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roosterforme · 1 year

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The Younger Kind Part 32 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: Bradley is used to feeling comfortable around you, so when he arrives home and things feel strained, he wants to understand why. The more you tell him about what has you so upset, the more he wants to try to fix everything. But you don't know if he can do anything to mend your confidence.

Warnings: Angst, swearing, fluff, and age gap (18+)

Length: 5600 words

Pairing: Single dad!Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x babysitter!female reader

Check out my masterlist for more! The Younger Kind masterlist.

Nat called and texted the next day to check in with you and Noah. It didn't matter how many times you lied and told her that you were just fine, she said she wanted to be sure. But you knew you were barely holding on, and the next two days without Bradley were going to be really hard.

Because now it wasn't just the USB drive. It was also your hand. And the broken glass. And the way Noah cried. You were currently curled up in Bradley's bed with Noah sound asleep in your arms, and you didn't even want to go to work tomorrow. Your hand was aching, and the gash looked terrible. Even though you had done your best with it, you knew you should have gone for stitches. But you also knew it was too late for that now.

After a moment of contemplation, you decided to keep Noah in bed with you for the night. You opened up your email one more time with the arrival instructions from Bradley even though you had them memorized. But you didn't want to mess this up.

When you got to work the next morning, while you were still trying to decide if you should report the break in, another layer of embarrassment was added. Dr. Kelly pulled you aside and glanced down at your hand as she said, "Would you like me to take a look at that?"

You'd done a pretty terrible job of bandaging it up on your own. "Sure," you said softly, and she unwrapped it and winced.

"This didn't happen at work, did it?"

"No," you replied quickly. "At home."

She met your eyes with startled ones. "This is a nasty, irregular cut. You live with your boyfriend, correct?" When you nodded, she added, "If there's any sort of issue with... violence at home, please know that you can always come to me."

Your jaw dropped open, and you gasped. "No! He's not even here, he's deployed! It was an accident!"

"Okay," she said right away. "I believe you. Let me get it cleaned up. It's looking angry, and you should have probably gone somewhere for stitches over the weekend."

Instead of responding, you silently followed her to one of the exam rooms where she carefully disinfected your palm and applied an adhesive that would work on your skin. "I can reapply it later this week for you."

"Thanks." As you got back to work, you were starting to think you should have reported the incident with the police. Panic rose inside you as you were instructed to prepare some vaccination syringes for the ten year old in exam room five.

Should you wait until Bradley got home on Wednesday? Should you call the police after work today? Your cut up hand was bad enough, but Noah could have been the one who got hurt. And you'd honestly never be able to forgive yourself if something happened to him. You had protected him from Meredith in the park, so why was this any different?

You rushed back to Bradley's house after work and ran inside, completely exasperated by his old man tendencies. You had to search for the list of phone numbers he gave you which would have been much better if he just saved them to your contacts in your phone.

Noah needed to be picked up in the next forty minutes, and you didn't know how long she would be in her office, but you tried to reach Tracy anyway. When you gave your name to her receptionist, you were shocked that he put you right through to Bradley's lawyer.

"I hope Bradley thanked you for me. The Red Bulls were very sweet of you."

You laughed at Tracy in spite of the fact that you felt like crying. "It's the least I could do." Then you took a deep breath and said, "I was wondering if there is any way you can help me? I don't want to end up with Bradley having to pay you if you give me advice over the phone or anything like that. But I think I need some help right now even though he should be back on Wednesday."

"Your boyfriend basically has me on retainer for you. What do you need?" Tracy asked.

"Retainer?" you asked. No, that couldn't be right.

"I was given explicit instructions to help you with anything you might call about. We're not going to worry about any billing, because he certainly wasn't worried, okay? What can I do for you?"

You sucked in a deep breath as you paced around the kitchen. You felt defeated. That damn USB drive was on top of the refrigerator. The coffee machine you could barely figure out how to use was on the counter. The list of phone numbers in Bradley's handwriting was on the table. So you walked out back and forced yourself to say, "I think Meredith broke into my rental which I had already moved out of. And I saw her at a gas station before that."

There was a long enough pause that you were about to repeat yourself, but then she said, "I think that if she did break into your rental, it was purely out of spite. Because I actually have some news about Meredith that I was waiting to tell Bradley. But I think you and I should have a conversation first, and then you should decide if you want to call the police."

---------------------------

Bradley just wanted to get off this aircraft carrier. He had one night left in this fucking bunk with Carl, and then he could go home to his cozy house and sweet son and your warm, welcoming body. Maybe you'd let him snuggle with you and Noah on the couch, and then after Noah's bedtime, he could take you to bed. He couldn't stop thinking about every single way he wanted to have you. And then he could fall asleep with you wrapped up in his arms and your soft breath on his skin.

He was almost getting hard just thinking about it. It had been a long time since he had someone to come home to, someone who was waiting just for him. He felt like he wanted to reward you for it. God, he wanted to give you everything. He had to tuck his hands up behind his head in his bunk and force himself to try to go to sleep. But he dreamed about your voice and your fingertips on his face.

The following day went quickly as they docked in the afternoon. Once he was able to text you, Bradley was pleased to see that you were more responsive.

I'm docked, Princess. We got in a little early, but I haven't deboarded yet. I know you're at work, but I can't wait to see you whenever you can come pick me up.

My Princess: I'll be there by four with Noah. We missed you so much!

When he was able to finally collect his things and start down the ramp, Bradley's heart was thudding in his ears. It wasn't four o'clock yet, and he knew he might have to wait for you to get there, but then he was pleasantly surprised. As he started walking along the fence to the parking lot, he spotted his Bronco in the last aisle. You had parked it away from everything and everything else, and that brought a smile to his face.

And then he saw you, carrying Noah and hurrying toward him in your new work scrubs that he hadn't even seen yet. A smile broke out on his face as he rushed to close the distance. "Noah! Princess!"

"Daddy!" Noah squealed with delight, practically jumping from your arms to his. Bradley wrapped Noah up in his right arm and kissed him all over his face, reaching for you at the same time with his free hand. "I love you, Bub. Did you have fun with Princess?"

But you hesitated. And when Bradley met your eyes, he was still reaching for you, but you were only very slowly stepping toward him. "Come here," he rasped, slipping his arm around your waist until you were snug at his side. "I love you." Those words seemed to do the trick as you melted against him, and your chin tipped up as you looked at him.

"I missed you so much," you told him, your voice soft and maybe a little sad? And Bradley kissed you hard and heady in front of everyone including Noah, letting his hand rest on the swell of your butt. He didn't care. You belonged with him. He wanted you there forever.

But even though you were clinging to his uniform shirt now and returning his kisses with a soft moan, he could tell you were holding back. He trailed a few kisses along your jaw back toward your ear and whispered, "I love you, Baby," and you shivered for him. But when he reached for your hand, he found it was bandaged up. And you looked at him with barely concealed frustration. He could just tell something was wrong.

"What happened?" he asked, repositioning Noah in his arm and letting his son's cheek rest on his shoulder. He kissed your fingers and ran his thumb along the bandage. "What's wrong with your hand?"

You tried to pull away from him, but he wouldn't let you. "Can we talk about it later? Tonight?"

"Yeah," he agreed, suddenly even more apprehensive. "We can."

"Great," you replied, leading the way to the Bronco with your fingers loosely tangled with his. And while Bradley walked with his lips pressed to his son's forehead and his duffle bag on his back, he was worried about you.

You were still quiet when the three of you pulled into the driveway and headed inside. "I have a lasagna ready to go in the oven," you told Bradley when he followed you into the kitchen. "Should we start doing your laundry?"

He laughed softly as he put Noah down in one of the chairs and dropped his bag to the floor. "Princess," he whispered, reaching for your soft cheek. "Baby, I don't care about my laundry. I don't even really care about dinner, but I love that you have something ready to go. I just want you to tell me what's bothering you."

He watched you swallow hard, and he thought he saw your eyes dart toward the top of the refrigerator. "Bradley," you muttered.

"You know I thought about you nonstop, right?" he whispered, remembering how it felt to have his fist connect with Carl's face as he made sure he got his polaroid back. "On repeat. I just wanted to be home." He kissed your lips over and over again, stroking your soft skin with his thumb. "So I'll take care of whatever has you upset. You know I will."

You just nodded and let your eyes flutter closed. And all you offered him was one word. "Later."

After dinner was eaten and cleaned up, Bradley spent some extra time giving Noah a bath. The tub was absolutely filled with toys, and Bradley ended up removing his soaking wet undershirt, kneeling on the floor in just his underwear and service khakis. "I missed you so much," he said, kissing his son over and over again. "But I know you had fun with Princess."

Noah held out a green duckie for Bradley to take before he said, "I want Princess to be my mommy."

Bradley met brown eyes that matched his, and he easily said, "I do too, Bub. She would be really good at it." You already were good at it. But something was wrong, and he needed to figure it out. The two of you weren't acting the way he had hoped you would after being apart for weeks. And now he was questioning whether or not you'd actually want to marry him someday.

It was late. Definitely after Noah's usual bedtime. He was yawning now, but Bradley had been so excited to see him, he let him stay up. With one more big yawn, Bradley scooped his son out of the tub with a towel and drained the water. Then he stopped in the living room where you were sitting on the couch, and he let Noah give you a goodnight kiss. And he leaned down and kissed your cheek as well. "I'll be back out in a minute. We'll talk."

"Okay," you said softly, and then Bradley was thankful that Noah was already falling asleep as soon as he was in bed. On his way back out to the living room, he stopped in the kitchen and grabbed a bottle of merlot and a bag of Skittles he had stashed away.

After he opened the bottle and took a sip, he met you in the living room. Your gaze took in his naked torso as you bit your lip, and when he handed you the wine with no glass, you took a sip from the bottle as well.

"Let's talk?" he asked, settling down next to you. He opened the bag of candy and patted his thigh. "And snuggle? I've been saving the wine and Skittles for our reunion, but you'll have to remind me which color goes best with merlot."

He could tell you were trying not to smile as you scooted across the couch and onto his lap while you sipped the wine. "Red, Daddy. Red Skittles pair with merlot."

"Yes," he rasped, kissing the side of your neck. "That's right. Now that I'm all yours again, just like I'm supposed to be, why don't you tell me what's bothering you?"

You handed him the bottle in favor of the candy, and you crunched on a few pieces before you said, "I moved all of my stuff in. And I used your address for my new hire paperwork."

Bradley had to hold back a moan. That sounded so fucking perfect to him, he wanted to take you on the floor right now, right in the middle of the area rug. But instead he just tightened his arm around your waist. "Mmhmm, you know just want to say to make me happy. And you did so great with Noah. I knew you would be perfect, Princess."

But then you met his eyes and held up your bandaged hand. "I had to call Tracy on Monday," you said, and Bradley's heart dropped.

"Why?"

You pressed your lips together and looked down at the bottle of wine before taking it from his hand and drinking some more. "I saw Meredith at the gas station near Noah's daycare," you whispered, your voice soft and harsh.

"She broke the restraining order?" he growled. "What the fuck?"

"It was just a gas station," you replied quietly. "And I think she was already there when I pulled in." Bradley was about to rage, but then you kept going. "But then someone broke into my rental, and I cut my hand when Noah was with me. And it must have been Meredith, so I called Tracy, because you weren't here, and I wasn't sure what to do." When you took a deep breath there was a little sob with it that made Bradley clench with the need to protect you.

"Shit! I wish you didn't have to do this by yourself," he replied, heart skipping faster. "But I'm proud of you. What did Tracy say about Meredith?"

"She helped me file a police report, and they said they are looking for evidence, but my landlord is pissed off that the window is broken. He was supposed to have a new renter move in this week, and he's threatening me about paying for another month. He told me to fix the glass, but the police won't even let me. And you and I are supposed to go meet up with Tracy tomorrow." You hiccupped when you finished talking.

"Shh," Bradley said, setting the bottle down on the end table and pulling you to his body so your cheek came to rest on his chest. "Baby, I'll take care of it. But back up, and go slow. Did Meredith threaten you or Noah?"

You shrugged against his body, and Bradley focused on every single word you had to say about the gas station and your broken windowpane and the note that was left. And how the police and Tracy both agreed that there's probably not enough evidence to prove anything one way or the other. And then you seemed wrung out as a tear slid down your cheek when you said, "Tracy did tell me that Meredith was on trial for the fraud charges I brought up against her during the custody hearing. When I saw her at the gas station, she told me I ruined her life. And then my window was smashed, probably just because she's such a horrible bitch."

"Make sense," he mumbled against your hair. No wonder he had several unread emails from Tracy that he knew he still needed to go through. Shit. You'd dealt with an awful lot in his absence. He wondered if that meant Meredith was being sentenced. "And we have an appointment with Tracy tomorrow?"

"Yes," you whispered, curling up tighter against his body. "During my lunch break."

"Okay." He kissed your forehead and ran his hands up and down your back. "I'm still off tomorrow. I'll drop you off at work in the morning, and then I'll come back for you whenever you want. And we'll go talk to Tracy, and I promise you, I will take care of everything." You were practically shaking as he added, "Because you take care of us."

You were nodding as you finally looked up at him, and as angry as Bradley was about more bullshit from Meredith, you and Noah were safe. And Tracy would probably have more information for him tomorrow. But right now, you needed someone to take care of you for a minute. "I love you," he promised, considering how exhausted you looked. "Let's take a shower and get in bed?"

Whether you were nodding in agreement or because you were still shaky, Bradley wasn't sure. But he carried you into the bathroom and set you down gently as he turned the shower on. Once you were undressed he helped you in and carefully unwrapped the bandage on your hand. There was a jagged cut on your palm that made his heart lurch. "I'll clean it and rebandage it, Princess," he said, trying to hide the anger in his voice. You didn't deserve any of the shit you'd repeatedly gone through since you met him.

"Okay," you whispered, and as soon as he was out of his khakis and underwear, you were pulling him in with you. Bradley was helpless in his feelings for you. Very carefully, he took his time and washed you so you didn't irritate your cut further. And he let himself just enjoy the feel of your body against his as he gently held your hand.

When he turned the shower off, he wrapped you in a towel and carried you to the bedroom. Everything looked exactly as it should: your purple crown was on his bedpost, everything was tidy, and the bed looked inviting. But you still didn't look relaxed as he helped you into his gray sweatpants and a soft undershirt before bandaging your hand again.

"What will make you feel better?" he asked, pulling on clean underwear as you climbed into bed. "Tell me, and I'll do it. I just want you to know how much I missed you and how happy I am that you moved all your stuff in while I was away."

You peeled the blanket back on his side of the bed and whispered, "Snuggle with me?"

You looked so perfect and innocent, and Bradley slid in bed with you and collected you in his arms. "Come here, Baby. Let me tell you how much I love you."

----------------------------

You started to fall asleep in Bradley's arms while he rubbed small circles on your back through his undershirt which you were wearing. You had been on the brink of erupting into tears all night, and you hadn't even mentioned the USB drive. And now that he was home, you didn't know if you were strong enough to bring it up at all.

If he knew it was in that box in the attic, then you were going to make a fool of yourself. And if he forgot about its existence, he was going to think you were snooping through his things even though he gave you permission to use the attic. Either way, you weren't going to mention it, at least not yet.

There were too many other things to think about anyway. Like whether or not the police found anything in your rental. And how you were going to fix the window. And if Meredith was actually going to attempt something with you or Noah, or if she was just bitter that she might be facing jail time.

"Daddy," you whispered, and Bradley's arm tightened around you as he kissed the top of your head.

"Just sleep, Baby. I'll be right here."

As you dozed off, you realized you didn't have to be on full alert at the moment. For the first night in so long, you could just sleep and know he was with you and Noah. And then you were out.

Next thing you knew, it was light inside the bedroom, and Bradley was waking you up with gentle kisses on your face. You reached for him, and then his body weight was on top of you as he chuckled. "Baby, we'll be late."

"Good, I want to stay in bed all day," you whined, but soon you were dressed in your scrubs and making breakfast while Bradley got Noah ready for daycare. You hated the way you felt like you were holding back being as physical as you wanted to be with your boyfriend.

And then a flash of panic shot through you. He must have been expecting you to have sex with him last night, when instead you fell asleep as a bundle of nerves. You were still a bundle of nerves, but now you felt like crying as well. But he was acting so normal when he brought Noah into the kitchen to eat pancakes. "Just leave the mess in the sink, and I'll take care of it later," he said casually, reaching for your good hand to give you another kiss.

But you were thinking about the USB drive, and your meeting with Tracy and your job. And you barely kissed him back this time. "Okay," you agreed before picking at your breakfast.

Bradley looked concerned now, and he continued to look concerned a little later as he pulled into Noah's daycare parking lot. "I can take him in," you muttered, but he had already turned off the Bronco's engine.

"Let's go together," he replied, eyeing you skeptically as he climbed out to get Noah. And when you were walking in, side by side, Bradley asked, "Will you tell me what else is on your mind?"

You just shook your head, because you didn't want to get into this right now. But he took your hand anyway. And of course the same girl was working at the front desk with her clipboard.

"Lieutenant Bradshaw! Good morning!"

"Hi, Casey," he replied smoothly, his fingers laced with yours.

"How was your deployment? We really missed you here." She gave you some serious side eye, and you just knew she wished you weren't even around.

"It was fine," he replied, setting Noah down and kissing him. And then Noah turned to you for a hug before he walked back to the playroom. Then Bradley tugged you a little closer to him and wrapped his arm around you before signing the clipboard with the back of your body snug up against the front of his. He kissed your neck while Casey watched. "Let's go before you're late for work, Princess," he whispered next to your ear.

He handed the clipboard to Casey without even looking at her, and you were so mixed up inside, you wanted to scream. Five minutes ago, you were dreading the idea of being intimate with Bradley without showing him the USB drive first, and now you wanted to fuck him in the front seat of the Bronco.

"Listen," he said, voice stern as he pulled out into traffic and headed toward your medical complex. "Something is bugging you. I want you to be honest with me. After we talk to Tracy together, you and I are having a conversation later today. And by the end of that conversation, I want you and I to feel the way we are supposed to feel again. Because you moved all your stuff into the house, which I think is us officially taking the next step in our relationship. And I'm used to feeling comfortable when I'm with you. Okay?"

You pressed your lips together. There was no getting around it now. "Yes."

-----------------------------

"I really like Tracy and all, but I was hoping I'd never have to come here again," Bradley said as you and he rode the elevator up to her office.

"I'm sorry," you whispered, running your hands down the front of your now wrinkly scrubs. "It's probably my fault."

Bradley did a double take. "Your fault? How would this possibly be your fault, Baby?"

You sighed and exited the elevator, and Bradley just wanted you to look happy again. "Because I'm the one who mentioned all of Meredith's insider trading and shady deals in the first place."

"Hey," he said, leading you down the hallway with his hand at your back. "This is one hundred percent Meredith's fault. And the fraud charges were probably coming whether or not we said anything about it during the custody hearing."

Then Tracy's receptionist was waving the two of you past his desk without question, and Bradley thought that was either a very good or a very bad sign.

"Meredith is in custody," Tracy announced as soon as her office door was closed behind Bradley.

You gasped and said, "She's in prison."

"Yes. Now have a seat," she replied, pointing to the small conference table. "Because we have some things to discuss. Welcome home, Bradley." Then she set down a copy of Meredith's mugshot and arrest information.

"What a warm welcome," he muttered, skimming the paperwork. "She turned herself in?"

"She did," Tracy told him, taking the empty seat across the table and cracking open a Red Bull. "Probably broke the window at your place for fun as her last hurrah before turning herself in."

"Did the police find anything?" you asked her. "My landlord is so mad about the window."

Tracy just kind of shrugged. "Like I told you before, it's probably a lost cause. Nobody picked anything up on a doorbell camera, and it's impossible to tell exactly when it happened since you haven't actually been living there for a few months." You nodded, and then Tracy asked, "But if they do find evidence, would you like to press charges?"

"No," you replied immediately, and Bradley leaned in a little closer.

"Are you sure? We can absolutely press charges if you want to."

"Come on, Bradley," you said quietly, even though Tracy could still hear. "I don't want to cost you any more money. And I can't afford Tracy on my own."

You looked at him with pleading eyes, and he leaned in even closer to you. How many times had the two of you had this fucking conversation? Too many for him to keep track of, and it annoyed him every single time. "Look at me," he whispered when you started to turn away. As soon as you met his eyes again, he kissed you softly. But his voice was rough around the edges as he said, "I would defend you with my life. Why would my money be any different? Why is that the thing that is always too much for you?"

With a soft gasp, you gaped at him. "Your life?"

"Yes, of course," he said, brow furrowed. "So I really need you to stop making a fuss about everything else. Because it doesn't matter compared to you. Or compared to Noah. Or compared to us. And I'm getting pretty fucking sick of having this conversation over and over again with you."

"Bradley," you whispered, wrapping your arms around his neck. He chanced a glance at Tracy, but she was simply scrolling on her phone now. And he could hear tears in your voice as you said, "Money isn't as important as you either."

"Exactly," he growled, holding you tight. "Fuck, Princess... don't cry. I didn't mean to make you cry. I'm sorry. But if you want to press charges, if there's even a reason to press charges, I will gladly pay for Tracy. She's expensive as hell, because she's very good."

"That's right," Tracy murmured, still scrolling.

You pulled away from him and kissed his scarred cheek a few times before you said, "Can I think about it? I mean, Meredith was probably just acting like a petty bitch because she could."

"We can wait for a police report," Tracy supplied, setting down her phone. "And I can get more information about Meredith as well."

You nodded and looked up at Bradley. "That's what I want to do."

"Then that's what we'll do," he agreed right away.

"Tracy, do you know when I'll be able to replace the window? My landlord is threatening me with another month of rent."

She just snorted. "Send me a copy of your lease agreement. I'll make him cry."

When the three of you stood, Bradley could tell you seemed more relaxed, and he kissed the now dry tears from your cheek. "How much do I owe you for today?" Bradley asked Tracy as he took your bandaged hand in his.

"No worries. I'll bill you."

"Worth every cent," Bradley told you once again as you rode the elevator back down.

You had your head resting on his chest as you pulled out your phone, and he could see your screen as you said, "Dr. Kelly texted me. She told me to just take the rest of the afternoon for myself."

"Do you want to head home?" he asked as you tucked your phone away again.

"Yeah, I'll make us lunch."

"Perfect," he replied. "And then we can talk."

And you seemed fine on the way home, changing radio stations in the Bonco and talking about how you hoped Meredith would have to serve the full fifteen years she was being threatened with. Bradley didn't really give much of a fuck about Meredith as long as you felt safe and happy. As long as things went back to normal for the three of you.

But as soon as you walked into the kitchen, you seemed apprehensive once again. He watched you carefully get some butter and cheese out of the refrigerator, claiming you were in the mood for a grilled cheese sandwich. But then you tossed everything onto the counter and spun to face him.

"I can't take it any more, okay?" You were nearly shouting at him, fists clenched at your sides. Your pretty face was all pinched like you were in pain.

"What?" Bradley asked, rushing to you. "What's wrong?" And then he saw one rogue tear streak down your cheek. Something was making you cry again, and he needed to know what it was.

"She's so many things that I know are horrible, but she's also so many things that I wish I could be... but I'm just not." You took a deep breath and reached up on your tiptoes to take something down from the top of the refrigerator. "I just want to know why it's here, okay?" you asked him, your hands shaking as you reached out with a blue USB drive on your bandaged palm. "Just don't lie to me about why you have this, Bradley. I know it's a few years old, but I just don't understand why you had it in the attic with Noah's baby clothes."

He took it in his own hand, and it seemed familiar. When he looked up and met your eyes, you were crying and trying to swipe the tears away. "I'm confused..."

You pointed at his laptop which was charging on the table, and said, "Just tell me the truth," as you sobbed.

Bradley opened the computer and tried to keep a wary eye on you at the same time. But as soon as he inserted the USB drive and the folder automatically opened up, he heard you softly say, "I can't," before you rushed out of the room.

He was still baffled as he tapped on the video thumbnail. And then he wanted to throw the computer across the room. His blood ran cold as he remembered making this video. The details were hazy, but when he heard himself tell Meredith that he loved her, he wrenched the drive back out of the laptop and heard it clatter across the floor as he ran after you.

"Princess!"

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Fix it now, Daddy!! You better fix it! I hope you enjoy your babysitter story @beyondthesefourwalls and thank you @mak-32

PART 33

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mrs-gauche · 4 months

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Let's talk about the Red Lyrium Idol

(…Because it's not like this thing has been discussed to death over the past ten years, right? 😂 *drops my two cents in the Scrooge McDuck money bin*)

Ah yes… The red lyrium idol. The one thing that's given me a headache since 2018, as I'm still trying to figure out how this damn thing could possibly fit into my bazillion tinfoil theories.

Whether it's the first official DA4 teaser in 2018, the Blue Wraith comic series or the entirety of the last chapter of Tevinter Nights, a lot of the supplementary media and promotional stuff setting up the course for DA4 seems to be centered around the idol. Quite literally, in some cases, like this mural from the first 2018 teaser:

It certainly led us to think that the idol won't just be another McGuffin (or so I hope lol), but other than that, it's still heavely shrouded in mystery…

Which is why I will now make an attempt to unravel this and gather every single bit of information we have on it (so far) and maybe that'll get us closer to some sort of answer in the end (actually, it won't, because this got SO long that I had to split this post in two parts lol No one's going to read all of this anyway 💀)!

Look, I just needed to get this behemoth of a post out before we might get an actual substantial trailer tomorrow and none of this will probably matter anymore. 😂💀

(Note: This whole thing was initially intended to be solely for myself to keep track of any information we've gotten about the idol since DA2. But since it's gotten SO long over the years, I figured why not just rewrite it into a somewhat coherent text and post it on here? :D ......Seriously, it's really, REALLY effing long.)

The Idol's Journey so far

To me, the idol always seemed to be something like "The One Ring" in LOTR. A forged ancient artifact with creepy unknown powers that is said to feel "alive", almost as if it possesses a will of its own, seeing as it has somehow found its way from countless random people, back to (presumably) its former owner. It also appears to be somewhat cursed, given that almost everyone who held it at one point seems to have died or gone mad by now (Yeah, I'm very worried about Varric and Hawke 👀).

Let us start with a quick summary of the journey the idol has made in the span of about 12-13 years (not counting the unknown timespan in which the last chapter of Tevinter Nights takes place):

First discovered by Hawke and Varric in an ancient Thaig in the Deep Roads.

Stolen by Bartrand, who then made a quick trip to Rivain.

Sold to Meredith, who turned it into a sword.

Taken out of Meredith's petrified corpse by Carta dwarves.

Sold again to a Tevinter mage, who brought it to House Qintara in Ventus.

Handed to a secret agent of Fen'Harel named Gaius (who was impersonating Magister Qintara).

Traded away to Tractus Danarius.

Handed to Magister Nenealeus at Castellum Tenebris to be used as part of a ritual.

Picked up by Cedric Marquette after the fortress fell, while trying to escape.

Handed back to Tractus Danarius, who then probably (not confirmed) went to Nevarra to perform another blood magic ritual.

Picked up by a Mortalitasi who (maybe) took it to Tevinter.

(Supposedly!) ended up in a vault under an auction house in Llomerryn in Rivain, where it was (supposedly!) retrieved by Solas.

That's quite the journey… that you wouldn't even know half about if you didn't read the comics or Tevinter Nights. But whereas the book and comics were all published after the first teaser trailer in 2018, after which the idol became the center of the fandom's attention and speculation, it should be noted that a connection to the idol was in fact already made way back in 2014, when people noticed that the image of Solas holding Flemeth's lifeless body at the end of Inquisition was very reminiscent of something else.

...Which brings us to the point of what the idol is even depicting to begin with.

Description

Before I'll start to give my own description based on the models in-game, the teaser and concept art, I'd like to quote the people who've actually seen it in person.

In the last chapter of Tevinter Nights, we are being told three tales by three different people, who all describe the same idol differently.

The Carta Assassin: "A couple hugging, too thin to be dwarves - but it's sitting there, glowing softly like a ruby lit by the grace of the Maker himself. […] It's heavier than you'd think - lyrium's heavier than you'd think, too, but this was heavy even for that. When I hefted it in my hand, it was like it wanted to keep moving, like it was liquid inside."

The Mortalitasi: "An idol crafted from red lyrium, which seemed to show two lovers, or a god mourning her sacrifice. It whispered in our minds when we saw it […]."

The Orlesian Bard/Solas: "He whispered something as he picked it up, tracing his gloved fingers gently along the crowned figure who comforted the other."

The one thing that all of these seem to have in common though is two figures who embrace each other in some way.

Which is interesting, because in all the depictions of the idol we've seen so far, it clearly shows three people instead of two. Granted, the third figure is a bit cramped up in the back of the crowned figure, but what's strange is that not even Solas himself mentions this third figure.

Most notable though is the crowned female looking figure in the center, which is holding onto the two other figures on each side of the ring shaped object (or it's the two figures holding onto the female?). The figures themselves look rather goulish, deadly or skeletal, with their bone structure clearly visible and all their expressions captured in a mix of horror or torment. The small carved-in lines coming from the middle figure's eye sockets also resemble black tears, much like we've seen on "The Mother" in Awakening.

There's also no sign of clothing, which is all the more apparent on the concept art of the idol, in which the breast of the middle figure is.. much more prominent. lol (We don't make fun of saggy boobs in this house, it's just nature and gravity after all, but for the sake of observation, I will note that they do remind me of Broodmother boobs, too 😂), aside from a hint of what could be a veil on the middle figure's head.

At the bottom of the idol, the lower bodies of the figures seem to fully submerge within its name-giving red lyrium and this "claw" type thing, which is coming off in the shape of crystalline red lyrium spikes at the tail end, though in the concept art and the DA2 model, these spikes were clearly more like red lyrium roots. But either way, the bottom makes it kinda look like it's been broken/ripped off?

We can also see tentacle like features, that remind me of the figures we've seen in the mural in the 2020 teaser and the depiction in the 25th anniversary book that revealed to us what the Archdemons were initially supposed to look like. 👀

I'd also like to point out that in the original concept art of the idol, the ears of the crowned figure look much more pointy to me than in later versions. 👀

There's also this "ring", that I've seen many people connect to how the Veil is often portrayed in Solas' murals.

But if this ring is supposed to depict the Veil, then what could it mean for the crowned figure reaching across to hold that ominous third figure on the "other side"?

And yes, I recognize that this ominous third figure also seems to be missing a left arm, just like another certain main character. 👀

The one thing that stands out the most though, is probably the crown itself. Most people might first associate it with Andraste, when the same shape can be traced as far back as ancient statues of Mythal.

Yeah, there's definitely a pattern here. 😂

That being said…

Connection to Mythal & Solas

Okay, we all know about the theory that Andraste might have been Mythal's previous host, right? We all know about the parallels between Mythal's story, Andraste, Flemeth, etc. And after comparing the idol to Flemeth and Meredith in their moment of death, considering all of the above/following and how old this thing potentially is, I will now make a wild guess here and argue that the idol is in fact depicting Mythal's death.

"He whispered something as he picked it up, tracing his gloved fingers gently along the crowned figure who comforted the other. But I could not make out the words, for I fear they were elven."

Not only does Solas seem to hold sentimental value for whoever the crowned figure is supposed to be, while also talking to it in elven, but the way he describes to "caress" the idol in Tevinter Nights does also seem to mirror how Flemythal was comforting him at the end of DAI.

However, I always thought it was a bit odd how Solas describes the idol as "a figure comforting another", when… tbh, "comforting" would probably be last thing that comes to my mind when I look at this...

"Agony" would be more fitting here, maybe? lol Kinda begs the question of how Mythal was murdered, too, with this being her expression in her moment of death? 👀

Without getting too much into it here, if there's one thing we can take from everything we've learned so far about their past, Solas' relationship with Mythal must've been a rather complicated one, to say the least.

"He did not want a body, but she asked him to come. He left a scar when he burned her off his face."

Solas calls Mythal "the best of the elven gods", calling her "the mother, protective and fierce", and Solas is even described in the designer's notes as "Mythal's oldest friend" who is all about free will, yet if the spirit origin theory is true and Cole's cryptic comments in Trespasser are in fact about them, it was Mythal who gave Solas a body against his will, potentially bound/enslaved him with her vallaslin, and maybe even forced him to act against his original purpose?

"You should have seen me when I was younger. Hot-blooded and cocky, always ready to fight."

Cole: "You didn't do it to be right. You did it to save them." Inquisitor: "Solas, what is Cole talking about?" Solas: "A mistake. One of many made by a much younger elf who was certain he knew everything."

How much of what happened was Solas acting out Mythal's will, or rather, acting out of vengeance and pain in reaction to Mythal's death? How much of it was him acting downright impulsive?

Solas: “Cole is a spirit. The death of the real Cole wounded him, perverted him from his purpose. To regain that part of himself, he must forgive.” Varric: “You don’t just forgive someone killing you.” Solas: “You don’t. A spirit can.”

Or was it Mythal's death itself that "wounded him and perverted him from his purpose", just like he described what happened to Cole?

And what does that say about Mythal then, when she clearly hasn't forgiven her murderers and still strives for vengeance after all this time? What if Solas' own perception of Mythal and all the circumstances surrounding her murder is warped because he was once bound to her? 👀

Anyway. To get back to topic.

So if we assume that the idol is in fact depicting Mythal's death, then that brings us to the next question of why the idol is even made of red lyrium? Or rather, what is Mythal's connection to red lyrium?

We know that red lyrium is tainted blood of a Titan. Mythal was the first to kill a Titan and mine their blood for things we won't get into in this post. So, how did the idol end up in the Deep Roads, anyway? How long had it been there? One thing that's kinda strange to me, is how the DA wiki page about the idol says that it was forged by the dwarves, solely based on the fact that it was initially found in the Deep Roads, when we have no actual evidence for that. We've seen statues of both Mythal and the Dread Wolf in the Deep Road section in Trespasser where the mining of lyrium was undergone, but we don't know if the dwarves even had any part in building them as well.

Would the dwarves forge an idol of the elven deity who conquered them and killed their Titan, if they were somehow forced to do so? We also have to remember that dwarves were and still are the only ones able to actually mine raw lyrium safely, but even the Carta dwarves in Tevinter Nights had to take several precautions in order to recover the red lyrium idol from Meredith's corpse. And even then, many of them still fell shaking or went mad in its presence like Bartrand.

So if it only takes that little exposure to have that much of an effect on someone's sanity, how were the ancient dwarves or anyone even able to create it in the first place? What if the idol was initially made of blue lyrium but was then somehow corrupted?

And if we take one moment to really think about what an idol actually is.

"An object representing extreme devotion and religious worship to a god."

While Solas doesn't think of any of the Evanuris as actual gods, he still seems to hold Mythal at such a high regard that he wouldn't even speak of her at a sacred place like the Temple of Mythal (whether or not that was because he just wanted to withhold any secret ancient knowledge). He's able to fully recite the invocation to Mythal if you bring him with you to her altar. He also looks exactly like the sentinels in Mythal's temple.

I could go on, but generally speaking, there are so many little hints pointing to Solas being a former slave/servant of Mythal that, again, we won't get into here, but it's important to mention when trying to figure out why the idol (presumably) even belongs to Solas.

"The idol's journey is now complete, and it has found its master."

In Tevinter Nights, the Dread Wolf claims that the red lyrium idol belongs to him. He also made sure to punish those who tried to misuse it, going so far as to march in with an entire army of spirits and snapping a guy's neck with his jaw. (Yup, you're better off not to touch the Dread Wolf's stuff for dirty blood rituals, kids.)

"You use my idol carelessly, and in doing so, you threaten all creation."

Additionally, in the last chapter of Tevinter Nights, Charter and other spies conclude that Solas must need the idol for whatever ritual he's planning, while Solas in Bard disguise claims that he's already in possession of the idol now and therefore, I quote, "cannot be stopped". (Though I personally still don't actually buy a single thing about his vivid tale at that auction house, but we'll get back to this later. lol)

And if the idol belongs to Solas, was he the one who created it, or did he order the dwarves or someone else to make it for him? But why would he intentionally make an idol out of red lyrium, anyway? He is fully aware of the dangers and corruption that comes with being exposed to red lyrium and its use. Especially considering that red lyrium is blighted and how he repeatedly expresses great concern over the Blights and gets furious over the Grey Wardens' attempts to preempt them by killing the Archdemons (because he obviously knows more than us).

So, does he know a way to use it without getting corrupted like everyone else? The Seekers of Truth are so far the only ones we've seen to be immune to red lyrium thanks to having their minds touched by a spirit of Faith during their vigil. Could Solas' connection to spirits/his hypothetical spirit origin allow him to use the idol without it effecting him?

But if any of this is true, then l'm again asking myself what even was the purpose of the idol to begin with? Why or when was it created? How does it differ from any other red lyrium, and what could Solas have used it for in the ancient past?

Powers & Effects

So, let's talk about what this thing can actually do (as far as we know).

(Btw, this is the part where I will shamelessly copy a lot straight from the DA wiki, because truth be told, I'm just a German struggling with limited vocabulary and I figured there's simply no way to summarize this any better than the wiki already has. 💀)

Just like any other red lyrium, we know that being exposed to the idol for too long will make you mad/paranoid/possessive/violent, while also grant you special powers, until overuse causes your body to be completely overtaken by red lyrium. It seems to thin the Veil wherever it is currently kept, allowing spirits or demons to interact with the physical world.

It also emanates a song that is slowly turning people who hear it insane.

The Song

"It sings… sick music." "It eats you inside until you're nothing." "It creeps into your thoughts, humming." "They hear a different song. The song behind the door old whispers want opened. They are dead and dark and done." "Songs screaming far away. It wants to wake up but can't remember how."

(- Cole's comments about red lyrium/red templars)

After Bartrand took the idol and left Varric and Hawke to die in the primeval Thaig, he started hearing voices, claiming the idol was "singing" to him. Even after selling it, Bartrand could still hear the idol and was eventually driven mad by its red lyrium.

Three years later, it is discovered that Bartrand had chipped a piece of the idol off and left it in his estate, which causes the house to behave like it was haunted and the Veil was torn.

Then during the "Haunted" quest, Varric himself remarks several times to hear music while walking through the estate, much like the Carta assassin in Tevinter Nights recalled to have heard "music in the wind, like some old song I heard as a kid but can't quite remember" when obtaining the idol from Meredith's corpse.

Important to mention here is that Varric seems to also be the only one in the party able to hear this song.

Varric: "Hey… is that music? Where is that coming from?" Hawke: "In don't hear anything." Varric: "Where is that singing coming from? You hear it, right, Hawke?" Varric: "Where is that voice coming from?" Hawke: "What voice?" Varric: "I can barely hear it… I wish I could make out the words."

Varric also told us that, after Bartrand went mad, he tortured his non-dwarven servants by cutting pieces off them to help them "hear the song".

(And remember, the idol was found in an ancient primeval Thaig in the Deep Roads, sitting on something like an altar, indicating that it was being worshiped by the ancient dwarves as well. Presumably because they too were being influenced by the idol's/red lyrium's song?)

Haunted

During the "Haunted" quest, we learn that the mere presence of a shard of the idol in the estate causes:

"Voices whispering in the walls"

Random objects moving on their own

Apparitions/screaming spirits appear running across the floors

When Varric picks up the piece of the idol, he starts to exhibit the same symptoms of madness Bartrand showed, at which point Hawke can either let Varric keep the piece, or can take it from him with the intent of having Sandal destroy it.

If Hawke asks Anders to diagnose Bartrand in Act 2, he suspects a demon at work, however Bartrand is a dwarf. Instead, he determines that "his mind has been poisoned by something powerful".

In Tevinter Nights, the Carta assassin recalls that, in the attempt to retrieve the idol from Meredith's corpse, most of his colleagues fell shaking and whispering the closer they got to it.

Meredith

After Bartrand sold the idol to Meredith, she reshapes it into her sword Certainty, which does eventually drive her insane as well. It also gives her unnatural powers, such as the ability to animate the statues in the Gallows, and even limited flight capabilities.

(My question is though, were the things happening in that final fight directly caused by the idol or was this just the result of the Veil being already weakened that much by the many terrible things that happened at that place/Kirkwall in general?)

Anyhow, during the final battle at the Gallows, Meredith overuses the lyrium sword, causing it to burst into dust and petrify her into a statue.

Though as we all know now, some part of Meredith seems to have survived somehow, as her… mind(?) or something was shown to now still "live" within the red lyrium somewhere in Kirkwall at the end of Absolution. She (or "it") also seems to have somewhat control over the red templars now, too.

So, how is this possible? What exactly is she now, if it even is herself and not just a manifestation/echo of her memories or something? Could it have something to do with the idol? No one really knows (and we might never find out, if Netflix won't give us a second season, anyway lol), but I do think it's curious how the idol is likely depicting Mythal's death, who didn't actually die either and lived on through the ages as a type of lingering "wisp" clinging to various hosts. 👀

I also want to point out how Solas did suspiciously include Meredith's petrified corpse in his mural in the 2020 teaser as well, placing her right under that ominous upside down figure with the tentacles.

Furthermore, just like Meredith, the idol also seems to be somewhat indestructable. lol After Meredith's sword burst into dust, it regrew inside her petrified corpse (which Solas was apparently also aware of). What's interesting is that it regenerated in Meredith's chest of all places. You know, like, where the heart is supposed to be? 👀

Then there's also this curious line from Anders, when talking about Varric acting strange after obtaining a shard of the idol:

"This thing's magic seems only more potent when broken."

I've mentioned it before, but with the spikes (or roots in DA2) at the bottom part of the idol making it look like it was ripped or broken off of something, you have to wonder if its current state is somewhat broken, even after regenerating.

"Hot-Blooded"

During the Haunted quest, Fenris will remark this:

"Whatever is here is angry."

In DAI, Cole repeatedly comments on how red lyrium feels "very angry" and how it is "less angry when it's cold". We know for a fact that red lyrium emanates a noticeable heat. A corrupted Bartrand is especially weak to cold/ice magic.

While anger is generally associated with heat, I find this aspect particularly interesting, given that red lyrium is tainted blood of a Titan.

And building on that, while still searching for further connections between red lyrium, the idol and Mythal… Remember how the ancient sarcophagus in the Blue Wraith and Dark Fortress comic was used in a ritual, in which lyrium combined with fire of a Great dragon carved lyrium infused markings into Fenris' and Shirallas' skin, granting them special powers.

Not only was this ancient sarcophagus specifically built only for elves, and its design resembling that of Mythal's statues…

…but here we have a case in which lyrium is purposefully "set on fire" by a Great dragon to create "elven super soldiers". Mythal is always depicted as a dragon. And she mined lyrium in humongous amounts.

Again, red lyrium emanates heat. If this was common practice in ancient times, then I feel like it's not surprising that a Titan would eventually be pretty damn angry in reaction to its blood being continuously burned for centuries [insert boiling blood joke here].

So, aside from the red lyrium being blighted, could there be a connection in Mythal burning the Titans' blood? As far as we know, it did take a couple of aeons in which Mythal (presumably) continued to mine (and burn?) the Titans' blood, before the ancient elves sealed the Deep Roads for good, because they discovered something… bad. As Solas himself declares in the vision described at the mural depicting a Titan's death:

"Let this place be forgotten. Let no one wake its anger." "The vision grows dark. An aeon seems to pass. Then the runes crackle, as if filled with an angry energy. A new vision appears: elves collapsing caverns, sealing the Deep Roads with stone and magic." "Terror, heart-pounding, ice-cold, as the last of the spells is cast."

And there it is again. That anger we're talking about. What's so interesting to me, is how this does sort of come full circle with Mythal and the idol after all, since the motivation behind Mythal's actions, even after thousands of years, remains her unwavering desire for vengeance upon the people who betrayed and murdered her, which, in a way, does mirror the same anger/heat that the Titan is emanating from its tainted blood.

And speaking of blood……

A Ritual Blade

In Tevinter Nights, we learned that the idol is able to produce a blade, which is then used as part of a blood magic ritual.

"The Tevinter mage was killing his slaves. […] He had cut the throat of one of them, and then another, catching the blood of his victims on the idol as he made his way around the circle. […] The Tevinter mage raised the idol before him, and I saw a spike of lyrium spring from the base of the idol, so that all at once, it was not merely an idol, but a ritual blade. He slashed his own hand, and a wave of power pulsed through the cavern. It was as though we were the blood, and the cavern was the body through which it flowed, and we fell, all of us, to the ground, our minds pulled into the raw chaos of the Fade by the power of his ritual."

In the end of the Dark Fortress comic, the idol produced another red lyrium sword, that could be fully detached and was then placed onto the before-mentioned sarcophagus, turning Shirallas into a raving beserker that was pretty much invincible as long as he was in possession of that same sword.

While the blue lyrium infused sword that was used in Fenris' ritual simply dissolved in the process, the sword produced by the idol could "regenerate" and was especially resistant to Great dragon fire.

"Unlike the lyrium-infused swords of the so-called Arcane warriors, this sword should survive the ritual."

In the final fight against him, Marquette comments on how Shirallas "feeds energy to the sword from the red lyrium in his veins" and how in turn "the sword heals his wounds".

So in both the comic and Tevinter Nights, the idol/the weapon produced from the idol seems to draw power specifically from the blood of its wielder. It makes me wonder if it was initially intended to be used this way, since we have to remember that it still presumably belongs to Solas, who claims to not practice blood magic, because it seems to make it more difficult to enter the Fade.

Which is ironic, given what the mage in Tevinter Nights did to disrupt the Fade, but also how the Magisters Sidereal used a massive blood ritual to enter the Fade physically.

And oddly enough, in your first conversation with Solas about blood magic, he makes this curious analogy with daggers as an example…

Inquisitor: Every time I've seen blood magic used, it has been for some evil purpose. Solas: I once saw a woman being stabbed in the stomach with a dagger. She died slowly, in angony. It was repulsive. If the Chantry outlawed daggers, would that stop the people from using it? Of course not. […]" Inquisitor: "You don't need to sacrifice a slave's life to make a dagger." Solas: "I suppose it depends upon the dagger."

So… Could Solas be referencing Mythal's death here? Or what if the dagger here is referring to the idol in its blade form? What the heck does he mean by "I suppose it depends upon the dagger"? Was a slave's life sacrificed to create the idol maybe?

But if blood magic wasn't the sole purpose for why it was made, then what else could the idol as a ritual blade be used for?

Which brings us to…

Dalish mythology

According to Dalish legends, Fen'Harel told the Creators and the Forgotten Ones that the Avvar had forged a "terrible weapon", a blade that would end the war between both clans of gods. He told the Creators that it was forged in the heavens, while the Forgotten Ones were told that it was hidden in the Abyss. And when the gods went seeking it, Fen'Harel sealed them both in their realms forever.

Okay. So, let's just assume for a second that the blade in this legend was actually the idol in its blade form. Because hell, what are the odds of having two "super powerful ancient blades that belong to Solas"? lol

If they are in fact the same weapon and the part about Solas tricking the gods is true, why were the Evanuris and the Forgotten Ones so eager to get this thing, to the point that they would fell into a trap?

And with this, I'd also like to point out the level design in the scene in which Flemeth takes Kieran's Old God soul in the Fade. I can't help but feel like the statue of Dirthamen being stabbed in the back with a sword, crying a stream of blood, resulting in a huge pool of blood, as well as a bloody ouroboros symbol on the ground, is a very deliberate design choice. Especially considering the context of this scene with the revelation about Flemeth and Mythal, I'd argue this is all in reference to how Mythal was betrayed and murdered.

Again, the idol could depict Mythal in her moment of death. In the final fresco in the rotunda, the one Solas never finished before leaving the Inquisition, we see a wolf looming over a dragon slain by a blade.

In the last visual of the 2022 cinematic that, going by Varric's narration, could potentially depict the destruction of the Veil, Solas appears to hold something that resembles a blade with a very destinct handle. Additionally, we've since discovered an icon hidden on the Steam page of DA4, that shows a dagger with an identical shape and the same glowy purple as the Dreadwolf title.

So we have the idol in its blade form, the blade Mythal was potentially slain with, the blade Solas is holding in the 2022 cinematic, Solas mentioning a dagger in relation to blood magic and Fen'Harel's blade in Dalish legends.

That's a lot of blades... and a lot of blood. lol

The Hunt of the Fell Wolf

"The Hunt of the Fell Wolf" is the title of a poem that can be found in the Jaws of Hakkon DLC. It tells a story of former Inquisitor Ameridan, his friend Haron and their fight against a demon wolf.

Along with numerous odd things in this tale that could be interpreted as some kind of metaphor (or just the devs messing with us, if you want to know more, please check out this post), it also mentions an "idol of fade-touched stone" in connection to the demon wolf.

The wounded knight in darkness Found within the cavern’s gloom An idol of fade-touched stone, Which could prove the monster’s doom.

In the poem, after a grim fight, the wolf takes Ameridan's friend Haron to its lair, a "labyrinth of winding cave" (which many believe is referring to the Deep Roads, just like the ancient Thaig in DA2 where Hawke and Varric found the red lyrium idol originally) where Haron, oddly enough, also happens to find an idol. What's intruiging though, is that this idol seems to be connected to the wolf in such a way that he can only be defeated if both him and the idol are destroyed and struck down at the same time.

With burning blade, Ameridan And monster met again Whilst elsewhere did Haron valiantly With demon-wards contend.

As demon-stone was shattered, Ameridan struck true: Beast and spirit—both felled at once, Though neither hunter knew.

"Beast and spirit—both felled at once"

Two entities that are connected across two different places… as in the physical body and the spirit maybe?

As in the waking world and the Fade?

So, let's reiterate.

The red lyrium idol belongs to the Dread Wolf. Cole remarks how he can feel that Solas is "in both places". The word "Dread Wolf" itself is an anagram for "World" and "Fade". We've talked about the popular spirit origin theory before, Solas taking a physical form against his will because of Mythal. The whole matter of Solas' "true name" before he called himself Pride. Solas' entire personal quest, which may or may not mirror his own past, a spirit of Wisdom being denied its original purpose, turning into a pride demon ("He wants to give wisdom not orders"). His strange remarks at the end of Cole's personal quest ("We cannot change our nature by wishing"). The fact that Solas makes Cole forget about his true identity, just like spirit!Cole does. The visual portrayal of Solas "consuming" Flemeth's powers at the end of DAI. The way in which Solas doesn't recognize anyone in the waking world as "people", but will vehemently debate you on why spirits should be considered people.

"But the People… They need me." (- Solas to Flemeth at the end of DAI) "Never again." (- Solas after burning the mages who were responsible for Wisdom's corruption) "From this moment, should you ever bind a spirit, your life is mine." (- the Dread Wolf's final warning to the mages in Tevinter Nights)

All of this considered, what could the poem in JOH imply for the connection between Solas and the Dread Wolf/the Dread Wolf and the idol?

"They made bodies from the Earth, and the Earth was afraid. It fought back, but they made it forget."

One theory assumes that the creation of the Veil lead to the separation of the ancient elves' bodies and their souls/spirits, assuming that before the creation of the Veil, the Evanuris somehow made bodies from the Titans/lyrium for spirits to manifest and then enslaved/bound them to their will by marking those bodies with their vallaslin.

But if that's true, then what happened to Solas when he created the Veil?

"He broke the dreams to stop the old dreams from waking. The wolf chews its leg off to escape the trap."

In all the murals, tarot cards and illustrations, the Dread Wolf and Solas are always depicted separately.

What really IS the Dread Wolf? And what is he to Solas?

"It was a beast unlike any I had ever seen. Lupine in appearance, but the size of a high dragon, with shaggy spiked hide and six burning eyes like a pride demon, and it came to us on wings of fire that resolved themselves into a horde of lesser demons."

From what little we know of the Dread Wolf himself, he only seems to exist within the Fade (that is to say, before the Veil, Solas was already depicted as a wolf, presumably even before his rebellion and before the Evanuris "bestowed" him with the title "Fen'Harel"). In the Mortalitasi's tale in Tevinter Nights, his army of spirits follows the mages back to the waking world, yet the Dread Wolf himself remains in the Fade. In one of the frescoes in the rotunda, Solas portrays the Black City surrounded by the six burning red eyes that resemble those of the Dread Wolf, almost like he's keeping watch over the eternal prison of those he banished. In the Tower tarot card, the Dread Wolf is ominously looming over Solas, almost like it's about to consume him, while in one of the Trespasser murals, it looks more like the Dread Wolf follows his lead. And then there's the DA4 2018 teaser mural, in which they're opposing each other, only seperated by the red lyrium idol in the center of the Veil.

If the red lyrium idol is connected to Solas like the idol in the poem is connected to the wolf, could this be part of the reason Solas is so desperate to find it? Does it possess some kind of spirit? Can the Dread Wolf only be defeated if the idol is destroyed at the same time, just like in the poem?

Where is it now?

So where's the damn thing now?

Well, in my opinion, there are two options.

Option 1) The bard's tale in Tevinter Nights was complete bullshit. lol

Despite Solas trying to convince us that he already obtained the idol in a vault some time ago under an auction house in Llomerryn, it's possible that, much like his whole charade in that chapter, this tale was also entirely fabricated. lol

To make it short, here is a list of arguments for why the "bard's tale" could've been a complete lie:

Solas attended this spy meeting specifically for information on the idol's whereabouts (because he doesn't actually know where it is currently?).

Everything until the last two pages was an act.

Both the Mortalitasi and the Carta Assassin point out several contradictions within his tale.

Upon hearing the other spies assuming that he needs the idol, it would just make sense that he would want them/Charter to believe that he’s now in possession of the idol and “cannot be stopped”, so that they would drop all effort to find it before him.

On the very last page of the book, there's a lists of bullet points of information when Charter is about to write down her report, and it does not explicitly say “He has the idol” but rather just what it looks like, which suggests that Charter didn’t buy his story either.

So if this was all lies, the last known location of the idol would therefore be the unknown person who took it when escaping from the Dread Wolf's spirit army in the Grand Necropolis in the tale of the Mortalitasi.

Meaning that Solas would therefore still be searching for it now. (Which would actually be kind of hilarious, considering how there's likely gonna be a ten year timeskip since DAI, so he would've been searching for the flippin thing for the better part of a decade now. 😂 We know from the end of the Blue Wraith comics that he had followed the idol's path via eluvian, but maybe he just lost track of it at some point? In fact, the last we heard from him, Solas was apparently busy pursuing some Venatori people to get another ancient artifact called the Crucious Stone in the The Missing comic, much like he prevented the Tevinter mage in Nevarra from using his idol. Solas after ten years of searching for the idol was probably like "Oh fuck it, I give up, on to McGuffin Nr 2 then". lmao)

In an interview with the comic writers Nunzio DeFilippis and Christina Weir, they talked about how in their initial draft of Dark Fortress, Solas actually *got* the idol(!!) from two of his agents by using the eluvian located at Nenealeus' place before BioWare stepped in and requested a change. 👀 That version would've explained how Solas was able to track the idol through the eluvian we see at the end. Their own interpretation was that Solas can only overlook a certain radius within the area of where another eluvian is located. Which would actually support the assumption that Solas might've lost track of the idol at some point after Nenealeus left the place… but that's just their interpretation and not official BioWare canon (yet), sooo…. Hm.

Option 2) Solas has the idol now.

So let's assume that the part about him obtaining the idol in Tevinter Nights was actually true and it's now in his possession.

Aside from this, the only thing that could speak for Solas already having the idol in the beginning of DA4, is once again the final visual in the 2022 cinematic.

If this cinematic is in fact playing at the beginning of the game as a general re-introduction to the lore and the last visual is depicting Solas in the middle of destroying the Veil using the idol, then.. well yeah, there it is, in his hand…. at least, for now. Making Solas succeed in the first 10 minutes, I guess? lol

……Unless!

See, a few years ago, I speculated about how the idol might actually be the perfect plot device/motivation for our new protagonist to get involved in the whole Solas deal without even knowing who he is.

Let's say the last visual in the 2022 cinematic is actually showing us a hypothetical scenario, and not something that has already happened/is currently happening. Like, Varric gives this expository narration explaining who Solas is and what might happen if we don't succeed in getting the idol. (Notice how Varric says "And we're the only ones who can stop him" at the end… Like there's still a chance to stop him before this actually happens.) We know from Tevinter Nights that Charter knows that Solas needs the idol for whatever ritual he's planning. And Charter obviously informed the Inquisition/Varric about this as well. So the next logical step for the Inquisition now would be to obtain the idol (whether or not the bard's tale in TN was true) to prevent this ritual at any cost, right?

The comic The Missing re-emphasized that Varric is now in charge of getting people that Solas doesn't know. And this might be where the new protagonist gets recruited by Varric (who is still a spymaster after all) and gets assigned the alias "Rook" for a heist mission to obtain the idol. (And after a very thorough observation of the DA4 reddit leaks from 2023… it looks like Rook might've actually succeeded in this potential quest?)

While we don't know when the stuff in the leaks actually takes place within DA4's storyline, I think it's safe to say that Rook will obtain the idol at some point in the story and that it will play a pivotal role, if the blurb on the Steam page for DA4 is to be believed. lol

As well as what could likely end up being the game's icon, found on the Steam page.

And again, remember how in the Hunt of the Fell Wolf poem, it seemed like Ameridan struck the wolf’s body in the waking world, while his friend Haron killed the spirit (inside the idol?) in the Fade. What could this imply for DA4 then, if we are applying the role of Ameridan, Haron and the wolf in this tale to the Inquisitor, Rook and Solas?? 👀 Is this how we can stop him? The Inquisitor confronts Solas in the waking world, while Rook has to destroy the idol/fight the Dread Wolf in the Fade?

Or could it just be a metaphor for the Inquisitor in DA4 keeping Solas occupied to distract him from Rook, while they can figure out another secret way to deal with him/how to get/destroy the idol?

See, the thing is, we have to remember that this is after all, a video game. lol Meaning that, if our protagonist gets to carry around a powerful ancient artifact/weapon, I would assume that this has to be somehow implemented in the gameplay as well. What we can take from the short footage of the 2023 reddit leak, is that Rook might carry the idol (if it really IS the same thing) while still fighting with their own main weapon in combat. So, what if the idol serves as more of a special power tool outside of combat, for example, like the anchor did in DAI, where it can only be used for special occasions? Let's say, the idol in its blade form can't be used in battle but is able to "split" the Veil or reality, like the anchor was able to open and close rifts? Or, if we assume that the idol is something like an ancient phylactery (which btw is my favorite theory and I will talk about in my second post), maybe it can be used as some kind of "tracking device"? Actually, I'm super curious to learn how Rook is even able to carry it like this in the first place, since we know what kind of effect it usually has on people. lol

~~~~~

Anyway, I'll make a hard cut here now and save the rest of this behemoth of a post for a second separate post (because I also just realized that tumblr doesn't let me add any more images 😂💀), so if any of you actually made it this far... thank you for being just as crazy as me about this and I will post the second part shortly after. lol ❤

#tinfoil time #da4 #red lyrium idol #solas #dragon age 4 #mythal #good god that got long 💀💀💀💀

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illdowhatiwantthanks · 5 months

Text

Postpartum

Amelia Shepherd x fem!reader Warnings: 18+ MINORS DNI (NSFW), sex, oral sex, hella eating out, fingering, etc., mentions of anatomy/body parts, some explicit language, post-pregnancy times (please let me know if I've left anything out!) Word Count: 2.0k

Summary: You're six weeks postpartum, and your doctor has cleared you for sex, but you're worried that it might not be the same anymore. Amelia assuages all of your worries. 😉

Request Info: This was requested by an anonymous user, but the request itself accidentally got deleted! The user also requested that the reader be an ortho surgeon and a third twisted sister. Whoever you are, I hope you find this, and I'm so sorry to have lost your original request!

“You’re good to go,” your OBGYN declared, finishing up your 6-weeks postpartum checkup.

You raised your eyebrows at her. “As in, good to go?”

She laughed. “Good to go, as in cleared to resume any and all sexual activity as you feel ready for it.”

You nodded and repeated it to yourself. “Good to go…”

But as you left Grey-Sloan, making a quick stop at the ortho unit to say hello to the nurses and the other attendings, you couldn’t help but wonder if you really were good to go. Sure, you missed sex with Amelia. You missed her body, missed connecting with her in that way, but you were also so self-conscious. You hadn’t had any major tears or anything, but you had shoved a human head out of your vagina less than two months ago. It was bound to be different down there. It felt different. What if sex didn’t feel good anymore? What if it never did? Or, even worse, what if it looked or felt different for Amelia, and she didn’t like sleeping with you anymore?

You decided to text Meredith and Cristina about it, as you so often did about any and everything.

Y/N: You guys I’ve been cleared for sex

M: Yay!

C: Good for you bitch

Y/N: I’m kinda scared tho…

M: Aw, why?

Y/N: Does it hurt after? Or like idk was Derek weirded out?

C: It feels like I could have been left out of this conversation

M: Shut up Cristina we’re being supportive! And no Y/N it didn’t hurt. You just have to take it slow and do what feels good at the time. And stop if it doesn’t feel good.

C: You don’t have a dick to deal with so you should be okay

M: CRISTINA

Y/N: I mean tbh we have several

M: Ew she’s my sister I didn’t need to know that…

C: I need to know more…

You shook your head and smiled. You decided that you might as well try, if Amelia was up for it. And there was no question that Amelia was up for it. She’d powered through like a champ, but before this, the longest you’d gone without having sex was two weeks and that was only because you’d been brought in as a specialist on a case at another hospital.

When you walked into the apartment, everything was quiet–a rarity at your house these days. You crept through the rooms, looking for Amelia and Pippa, and finally found them in the nursery. Amelia held Pippa to her chest, bouncing her softly as she slept, little chubby cheeks pressing out like she was blowing bubbles.

You placed a hand on Amelia’s back and kissed her on the cheek. You nodded toward Pippa, eyebrows scrunched.

“I just can’t bring myself to put her down,” Amelia whispered. “How was your appointment?”

“Good.”

Amelia stared pointedly at you. “Good good?”

You nodded, smirking.

If Pippa had not been tiny and fragile, Amelia would have tossed her into the crib like a football.

She placed the baby gently on her back in the crib, then crashed into you with the force of a tidal wave–or six weeks of no sex.

She pushed you into the hallway wall, shutting Pippa’s door behind her, and pressed into you, her mouth and hands desperate. She ran her tongue up and down your neck and back to your mouth and yanked your shirt over your head. God, you’d missed this. You’d missed her. Even though she’d been right here next to you the whole time. She groaned as she pushed herself into you, and you smiled into her kiss.

At this rate, Amelia would be finished before you even had a chance to make it to the bed.

“No, no!” she whined as you pulled away, her blue eyes pleading desperately with you.

“Come to bed, Amy,” you teased, taking her by the hand and leading her to the bedroom.

You gently removed her clothes and pushed her onto the bed. “You first,” you said.

She grabbed at your face hungrily as you leaned over her, kissing you with all the fervor of someone who’s love has been lost at sea for several years. She gasped and arched her back as your hand grazed over her clit.

You couldn’t help but smile at how needy she was, her hips bucking into your hand as you held it still, cupping her heat.

“Y/N, don’t fucking tease me,” she scolded, her voice stuttering. “It’s been way too long for that.”

“Oh, you don’t like that?” you said, smug. It was not often that Amelia was this powerless in bed. Usually it was the other way around, so you were enjoying this moment.

She grabbed your face, rough, and then soft as she ran her hand through your hair. “Just finish me already so I can get inside you.” She pulled your face closer, her breath hot in your ear as she whispered. “I’ve missed the taste of you.”

You’d never switched gears faster. No more power trips, just getting Amelia off as quickly as possible.

You kissed and licked your way down her body, intoxicated by the way she pushed into you and pulled you closer. By the time you reached her center, she was panting and glistening and you knew it'd only be a matter of minutes before she was absolute putty.

You pressed soft kisses into her inner thighs, then closer and closer until she was nearly bursting with the want of you, so that when you finally, finally, wrapped your mouth around her clit, she nearly lost her mind. You held her hips in place as she moaned, licking your way through her, around her, inside of her until she was shaking in your arms, hips rolling to meet your tongue. And for the final touch, you slipped two of your fingers inside of her, curling down and around, just how you knew she liked it. Her hands were gripping your hair so hard you thought might pull it out. “Y/N!” she gasped, her breath coming out in short, sharp moans as she came on your fingers. You smiled as you buried your face in her, guiding her through her high and back down again.

“Holy shit,” she breathed, her chest still heaving.

“Good?” you asked, already knowing the answer, as you wiped your mouth.

She nodded, still struggling to catch her breath. “Give me a second.”

You lay down next to her, feeling wildly pleased with yourself, especially when Amelia rolled over on top of you and pressed her mouth into yours, moaning as she tasted herself on your lips.

But as she worked her way down your body, anxiety shot through you.

You grabbed her hand. “Amy, wait…”

She looked up at you, concerned.

“You don’t have to,” you said, avoiding her eyes.

“I know I don’t,” she replied, still looking at you curiously. “I want to. I’ve wanted to for months.”

“I think…” you stuttered. “I think I’d really rather you didn’t.”

Amelia’s eyebrows furrowed. “Hey,” she said, laying down next to you and propping herself up on her elbow so she could see your face. “What’s going on?”

“I’m just not ready.”

“That’s fine, but you seemed super ready about two minutes ago.”

You didn’t respond, fiddling with an edge of your comforter.

“Y/N,” she said, brushing your hair behind your ear. “Tell me what’s going on in that pretty head please.”

She took your hand and you played with her fingers for a moment before answering.

“I’m scared you won't like it.”

Amelia looked genuinely shocked. “You’re what now?”

“I got messed up down there,” you mumbled. “What if it’s not like normal for you?”

“Oh, babe,” she said, caressing your face. “You’re not messed up. You could never be messed up. You’re you and I love you. I love all of you.”

You stayed quiet.

“Honey,” she continued, more emphatic now. “Your body made a whole human. A human that is sleeping in the bedroom down the hallway. A beautiful, precious human that I love with all my heart and hope with all my heart stays asleep for a while so that I can get in there. She had her time. It's my fucking turn."

You couldn’t help but giggle a bit.

“Listen,” she ranted, excited that your mood was brightening and trying to make you laugh more. “I’m like the Lewis and Clark of vaginas, okay? The wilderness must be explored. I gotta get in there and get the lay of the land. And it might be new, right?”

You nodded, grinning and blushing.

“But new doesn’t mean bad. Lots of times new means better. So just… let me do my exploring, okay?”

“Okay,” you acquiesced.

Amelia was gentler with this attempt, slow and steady and worshipful as she moved down your body, taking her time especially at the place where your uterus still bulged, where new stretch marks had drawn their way across your abdomen. And when she got to your center, she was gentle there, too, mindful of your anxiety, mindful that it might take your body more time than usual to warm up.

She was loving and slow and obsessive, sighing with pleasure as she placed kisses along the inside of your thighs, on your clit, all over you. Amelia’s careful touch had washed away most of your anxiety, leaving behind your flushed face, the shuddering of your body each time her skin met yours.

And when finally, finally, she had you wet and whimpering, she dove in like a woman starved.

“Amy,” you breathed, lightly holding her head in your hands as you threw your own head back, your hips rising to meet her. You could feel her smile against you.

“You want more?” she asked, and you knew she meant, Do you want fingers or a strap or a toy or anything like that?

You shook your head. “No, just–” Your breath caught in your throat, replaced by a moan as the knot in your lower abdomen tightened. “Just keep going.”

If there was one thing about Amelia, it was that she could eat you out forever. You’d been afraid that would change, but clearly your fears had been unfounded. She was insatiable.

“Amy–” you exclaimed, arching your back as your body approached the edge. You couldn’t even get the words out, just “Amy” over and over.

She reached up to grasp one of your hands in hers as you fell apart around her, Amelia lapping up every last bit of you.

You breathed heavily, watching as Amelia emerged from between your thighs, grinning like an idiot, her face an absolute mess.

You laughed as she wiped her face. “I take it your expedition went well?”

“God!” she exclaimed, flopping down beside you. “I missed you.”

“We literally have not been apart for weeks.”

“Okay, well, then I missed your vagina.”

You giggled, rolling over a bit to kiss her on the cheek. “You’re a dork.”

“Yeah, but I’m your dork,” Amelia retorted, pulling you in for another heated kiss.

You were interrupted then by a loud, crinkly wail through the baby monitor.

Amelia groaned, but you could see a smile creeping in. She stood and stretched. “I’ll go get her.”

“Amelia!” you hissed, throwing a pillow at her. “You can't bring her in here! We’re naked, and it smells like sex!”

“She’s six weeks old! She won’t remember!” Amelia nodded at you. “Go take a shower. Relax. Then we can switch. It's almost time to feed her anyway.”

You lay in bed a moment longer, waiting to hear Amelia on the baby monitor.

“Hello!” she cooed, her voice crackling through the speaker as Pippa continued to cry. “Hi, pretty girl! Oh, I know. I know. You want Mama? Let’s go see her. Oh, you love your mama, don’t you? Mommy does, too.”

You smiled, your heart full as you listened.

“We loooooove Mama, don’t we? Yes, we do. We love her so much.”

#amelia shepherd #amelia shepherd x reader #amelia shepherd x fem!reader #amelia shepherd drabble #amelia shepherd fluff #amelia shepherd smut #amelia shepherd one shot #amelia shepherd fanfic #grey's anatomy #grey's anatomy fanfic

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petew21-blog · 4 months

Text

Grey's Swapatomy

"Good morning, chief Webber. How are we feeling today?"

"Good morning. Thank you for asking. I don't want to complain too much but my back hurts from the couch In my office"

"Couch, sir?"

"Yeah, my wife Adele and I... we're going through some stuff right now that we need to figure out. Separately."

Mark now looking really unckmfortable shift the attention to the board with surgeries

"I see that we have a busy day, sir. I have 6 surgeries planned now."

"SIX?!? What? My name is not there even once. Do these people think that just because I'm older I don't know how to hold a scalpel anymore?"

"Chief, I don't think they mean it that way. They just want you to have your earned... rest. That's what everybody want after years of working here."

"You know what, Mark? I'll give you the rest you desperately need."

Richard Webber leaves in anger

"I'm sorry sir. I didn't want to upset you"

Richard now searching through his office found an amulet he got from a tribe leader whose life he saved. He said to him that when he will feel most like his journey was ended by someone, he can then continue the journey of another. He never knew back then what it meant. He definitely knew now.

He went to the scrub room before the OR. Mark was just getting ready, scrubbing his hands. Richard came close to him. Mark stood up, look into Richard's eyes, as Richard snapped the talisman in two pieces. A powder fell out from the talisman onto Richard's feet and Mark's hands.

"Thanks Richard. Now I have to scrub again"

Richard left the room with a gleefull smile

That night Mark producent so much sweat, that his room now was humid like a rainforest. All that was an effect of accepting a new soul. Richard's

Richard woke up. He felt all the sweat all over his body. His much younger and hard muscled body. All the back pain was gone. No more painfull joints

Richard went into the shower. He was now ready to show himself to Adele. How could she reject him now with a body like this. The body Richard knew was able to fuck like a horse. Also hung like a horse

As Richard left the shower, he just took the towel and went through the kitchen. Not expecting anyone, he was surprised to see Meredith's younger sister Lexie.

"Doctor... I mean Lexie, what are you doing here?"

"I wanted to surprise you. Give you a gift for all the surgeries that went so well and to show you how much I like you"

Lexie now dropped the underwear she was wearing, standing now completely naked in the kitchen

Adele can wait...

Inbox story request: Would you maybe do a story where Chief Webber swaps bodies with Mark Sloan (Greys Anatomy)?

I never thought I would ever write a story from Richard Webber's P.O.V. 🤣

#body swap #body switch #male body swap #Doctor body swap

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felixora · 2 months

Text

Anders discource

I forgot to post this here as well, lol

This kinda turned into a small essay…. Which is to be expected, it is Anders’ discourse after all.

This text is a personal view of the DA discourse, that is often summarized in fandom circles as “Was Anders right?”.

So let's start with this question: which is better, a peaceful or violent revolution? The answer is: both, depending on the severity of the situation.

I'm sorry to break your sweet dreams about “peace and love”, and “only peaceful revolution are justified” — but that's just delusional.

While I do believe that peaceful revolutions are the best outcome for both sides of conflict, more often than not they are impossible specifically due to unwillingness of the oppressors to seek true compromise. Because where the marginalized might achieve something slightly better for themselves, the oppressors lose the most important thing for them — they lose control.

And then the only thing that's left is a violent revolution. Or, well, death.

The rule of “turning the other cheek” does nothing but perpetuates further violence, when you're dealing with an oppressive regime. Because while the marginalized side often considers the middle ground with their oppressors (just for the sake of “making things better than before, while not risking the full annihilation by a stronger force”) the oppressors have only one in mind: “We want you fully gone, because you oppose our rule. You are a danger to us”.

The thing that I learned in past 10 years is that — ”Pacifism is a privilege”. And those who are oppressed don't have said privilege. They either fight or they die. Sometimes slowly (for ex. by assimilation), sometimes rapidly (in a massacre).

The thing that genuinely baffles me in the whole Anders' discourse, is the fact, that people forget or ignore that he for years tried to do the peaceful revolution. The Mage Underground was a way to get the mages from the dangerous environment, without engaging in the direct confrontation with the Templars. The manifestos on why mages should be free and letters to the Divine herself regarding the same issues that Circles pose — all of these are methods of peaceful resistance.

Now, remind me again, did these actions have any effect on how Templars or the Chantry treated mages? Maybe they revaluated their stances, did a thorough investigation of the possible mistreatment of their charges?

Oh, yeah — IT DID NOTHING.

No, not even that — the things started to get worse and worse, actually.

Any time the Grand Cleric “calmed things down” — the status quo remained. They didn't try to investigate the concerning situation in the Kirkwall Circle or any sort of rumours of abuses by the Templars. No, the Chantry for the most part closed their eyes to these rumours, and when the number of rebellious mages went up, the only thing they considered — was to organise a crusade (an Exalted March) against the Kirkwall. Nevermind, that most of the mages from the Circle and as fugitives were a faithful Andrastians, despite the conditions they were put through by the Chantry.

But of course, “the Chantry is just a religious organisation, it shouldn’t be targeted in such situations”...

So, back to the Templars — they didn't get their wish of cutting down all the mages under their care right there and then. But they sure as hell were allowed to continue to physically and psychologically torture, push mages to their breaking point, and commit any abuses they felt like doing to their charges.

In all of this, the Chantry poses as an enabler and the cause of the laws against mages in the first place. Not to mention that Chantry was responsible for the creation of the Templar Order, and they are subservient to the Divine.

By the 3rd act of the game we have a conformation, almost right away, that Meredith send a letter to the Divine requesting a Right of Annulment.

It's not anymore a question of “if the Divine will approve of this” — she might have said no, it's true. But our characters don't know that. They see the situation, where every peaceful attempt to reach a resolution was met with silence or threats of violence. With all due respect — only a fool hopes for the better and does nothing in such a situation.

This becomes a question of “when will it happen”.

When the oppressors say “I will murder you” you don't go “How about we talk”.

When you propose a dialogue and the opposing side says "No" over and over again, while continuing to tighten up the leash around your neck, the only right action is to fight back. If you fight — at least you have a chance of surviving. Otherwise, — it's death. Slow or quick, depends on the choice of the oppressors.

Another important thing, is that revolution doesn't happen on the shoulders of one person. It needs people. And those people need to believe that the idea has at least some chance to come true, they need to be inspired.

Inspiration not always comes through well-put speeches preaching kindness and unity.

It also can come through acts of violence, if said violence is turned against the oppressors. It shows, that they CAN BE BEATEN.

And Anders’ actions inspired people.

Anders tried his voice, he tried to reach the society in general with his arguments. That didn't work.

He tried to bring change with the Mage Underground, to recruit his friends (Hawke and the party) to join his active efforts of fundamentally changing things — that didn’t work as well. (while the friend group acts uninterested and uninvested in Anders’ righteous cause, Hawke might constantly and only suggest diplomatic solutions, which at the time were already useless and only maintained the status quo)

So the next closest thing is an act of violence against the Chantry — to show all those mages, who are still doubtful, who are scared, who think there is no hope — you can fight back and make it hurt.

What was called “compromise” from the Grand Cleric was maintaining the status quo, where mages in the Circle were still suffering the abuses, while the Templars simply weren't allowed to make them all Tranquil.

How the fck is that a compromise?

If you didn’t get it already — I am a big supporter of action, when it comes to revolutions and fight against oppression.

While acting is always a wild card (you have no idea, what reaction you might get from your oppressors, if you'll receive any support from “external forces”, if the luck will be on your side) — it always brings change.

On the contrary, inaction — leaves your fate in the hands of the oppressor. They might be merciful, they might be cruel — what happens to you and your people in such situation depends solely on their wimps. In many cases — the status quo remains, nothing changes.

The Chantry personnel was part of the problem. For years, they did nothing to investigate possible misuse of power within the Circle, that obviously perpetuated further and further rise of temper among mages.

They stayed silent on the issues of Ferelden refugees, leaving them to fend for themselves in the slums (while obviously holding significant part of the influence in the city).

They obviously took part in less than peaceful instalment and fight against neighbouring religions (see Mother Petrice and the Qun).

And, returning to the topic of mages, they perpetuated as part of their official teachings demonisation of mages as a whole, purposely ostracizing them from society and creating an impossible conditions to fight against. Their word was the law. And even if the mage had a compelling argument for their case — without even a bit of approval from the Chantry, they wouldn't have a chance of bending the society to their side.

So, the Chantry is just as guilty.

Another thing that needs to be considered in this topic are the casualties among civilians as a result of Anders’ violent protest. Because in the aftermath of the explosion there was 100% injured or dead among civilians. One might argue that they are just as gullible, turning a blind eye to the obvious misdeeds by the Templars and apathetic response by the Chantry (all it takes for evil to fester, is for good man to stay silent, after all) — but that still doesn't make their deaths rightful or expendable.

Anders had to make a choice — either them, or the mages.

They are the collateral damage of this conflict. One, that could have been prevented, if the oppressive side agreed to at least a compromise with the oppressed. But they didn’t.

And as a result, Anders had to take actions to unsure at least some fighting chance for his people, for the mages. The sad thing for me, personally, is that he will be the one to live with the burden of this choice, and not the personnel of the Chantry or the Templars, as they didn’t consider themselves guilty.

The other side of this story could have ended with Anders staying silent, Meredith putting into motion the Right of Annulment and then the Chantry sweeping what happened under the rug (which had a high chance of turning the story to the path, where revolution among mages happened decades later or even didn’t happen at all).

And that would have been the consequences of his choice as well, though a much worse option if we're considering that Anders made it the purpose of his life to bring change to the system and protect his fellow mages.

Another thing that is often brought in discussion is that Anders should have chose the Gallows as his target. In this scenario, there would have still been casualties among the civilians (consider the debris falling from the sky), as well as guaranteed deaths among the mages and tranquil (all were located in the Gallows). Anders wanted to give them a fighting chance, not kill them right away.

So selecting the Chantry as his target to shift the general power balance in the conflict and send a message to both the institution and mages across Thedas — is absolutely logical.

Other thing that makes no sense — is the lack of mages who actively sided with Anders' actions while remaining on the defence against Templars (not that weird shit about creating 2nd Tevinter in the Hinterlands)

Because that's how it went with revolution in my country. We have some people who regret the revolution (even now), we have those who are apathetic to it, and we have those who believe in it wholeheartedly.

People died for their beliefs in this revolution, and both them and those who advocated for a more proactive approach and survived were idolised by numerous people afterwards.

Some rightfully so, some less. But it still happened.

They are considered heroes, EVEN THOUGH we also had an invasion of part of our country from our neighbour as a result of this revolution. And in latter years, we are now defending ourselves from a full-scale invasion from the same oppressive force that was largely responsible for the reasons we had a revolution all those years ago.

The majority of people in my country would still, without a doubt tell you, that the revolution and the subsequent violent fight for our future was the right course of action. Even now, knowing how things turned out for us.

Because it brought change. It gave us hope that we can be that force of change.

So when the DA tells us, that there were barely any mages, or relatives of mages who were taken from their families, who considered Anders' actions justified and idolised him into this heroic persona — I call bullshit on that.

That's simply not how things turn out in these sorts of situations.

Many held grudges not only against Templars, but the Chantry as a whole. Many spend their lives in hiding or locked away from their loved ones. The voices of many were never heard, no matter who they appealed to — and then comes this mage, who dealt an irreparable blow against the authority of the Chantry, who challenged their rule and told everyone “the time for compromise has passed, it is time to fight”.

Are you telling me people won't idolise that? Span a ton of rumours and legends around his figure?

I highly doubt that.

I have genuine criticism of Anders as a character — his racist towards elves views are hard to miss. The occasional misogyny (if we're taking Awakening into consideration as well) is also present. All of that can be explained by the upbringing in the Circle and under the Chantry, but it is NOT an excuse, and these are genuine flaws of his personality.

That being said, you don't have to be a perfect victim for your suffering to be acknowledged, related to and your fight against oppression to be supported.

“Oppression” is not an achievement, that you unlock only after reaching certain standards.

It simply exists.And not only you can fight it, but you must.

#da2 #anders

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kendyzzlewp · 5 months

Text

you can do it with a broken heart

summary: jackson broke up with you for no reason, so now you try to survive residency while working at the same place. but you’re a real though bitch, you can handle your shit

tags: fem!reader, jackson avery, angsty, ttpd

tw: mentions of su!c!de

—-

“You seem… okay.”

You looked at Meredith who was staring at you with a concerned expression. You shrugged, spitting the toothpaste from your mouth into the sink.

“Why wouldn’t I be?” You asked, grabbing a towel and wiping your face from any minty residue.

Meredith narrowed her eyes on you. “Well,” she said, entering the bathroom fully. “Avery dumped you.”

Your heart sank at the mention of him. You shook your head, forcing a smile. “So? It’s not the end of the world. He’s literally just a guy and I dumped him.”

Alex entered the bathroom, pushing past you to get to the sink. You locked eyes in the mirror and he shook his head.

“Pretty boy was not just a guy,” he grumbled, grabbing his razor. “He was like your person or twin or whatever it was you called him.”

Meredith hummed in agreement, sitting on the toilet with her eyes fixed on you. “He wasn’t just a guy, he was your guy.”

You sighed, running a hand through your hair. Your stomach twisting like a wet rag at the topic of conversation. It had been two weeks since Jackson decided to end things after months and months of the stupid will they, won’t they dance. It wasn’t even a viable reason, he needed to focus on plastics and you needed to focus on cardio. It wasn’t you, it was him. After the boards things were going to be different.

Blah blah blah.

“I’m fine,” you said in a failed attempt to convince both of them and maybe even yourself.

Because you were the complete opposite of fine. You were completely ruined. They were right. Jackson wasn’t just a guy, he was the love of your life. Your best friend and one random fight escalated to the point where you turned back to strangers.

Derek popped his head in the bathroom, catching your eye with a sympathetic smile. “Hey,” he said softly. “You okay?”

“I’m fine!” you exclaimed, pushing past him to get to your room. “Perfectly, fine.”

——

“You gotta fake it, till you make it,” Arizona said as she masterfully dissected a burst appendix. “Break ups suck. The important thing is though that you win, you have higher ground.”

You had the faking part down, now making it? That’s a whole different story.

“I’m fine,” you repeated, your eyes on the cavity in front of you. That seemed to be your new phrase lately, it had variations but fine was becoming your old faithful.

For some reason, you decided to look up at the gallery. Your eyes meet green ones. So green yet so blue at the same time. Like a watercolor painting of a beach paradise. You swallowed the lump that blocked your throat. Knowing the intercom was turned on by the red light, you decided to prove it once and for all.

“I actually have a date,” you lied, your eyes darting back to Arizona’s hand as she finished sewing up the kid.

She looked up at the gallery with wide eyes before landing her eyes on you. “A date? With who?”

“Um…” you racked your brain trying to come up with a convincing answer, your eyes briefly meeting Jackson’s. “A lawyer…yeah.”

Arizona dropped the subject when the monitor started beeping wildly, the attention shifting towards the patient. You look up at the gallery again. He was gone.

You’re fine.

—

“He said he’d loved me all his life,” you sobbed one into your arm one night at Joe’s. Lexie rubbed your back sympathetically. “He lied.”

She sighed, passing you another napkin. “You are going to be just fine,” she said, taking your drink away. “No more tequila for you though.”

You shook your head, wiping the tears from your cheeks. “I’m fine,” you said, forcing a smile. “I can handle this, this is nothing.”

——

“It’s kind of ironic,” Alex said one day, watching you repair an aortic aneurysm in the gallery. “She wants to fix hearts for a living but can’t get her own shit together.”

Cristina mumbled an agreement, her eyes focused on the surgery. April shook her head, feeling sad for her friend.

Meredith shrugged. “She says she’s fine,” she said, taking a bite of her apple. “If that was me, I would’ve drowned myself in the bathtub by now.”

Cristina raised an eyebrow, turning back to look at her. “That was you and you did almost drowned.”

“She’s on the verge of a mental breakdown,” Lexie said, her eyes focused on a medical journal. “It’s a matter of time.”

“Avery is a dumbass,” Alex stated, earning a chorus of agreement from the rest of the residents.

All of them were blissfully unaware that Jackson was standing at the entrance of the library. His eyes focused on you as you performed your magic. The way you laughed as you bantered with Altman. His heart sank.

He really was a dumbass for letting you go.

You sat in the gallery with the rest of the group, your eyes focused on the surgery below. You mentally took notes. You hadn’t slept in days, food would not stay down no matter how much you tried.

The anxiety ate away at you constantly. The emptiness follows you everywhere you go. The hospital became your home as you dreaded going to bed alone.

Jackson entered the gallery, causing the hairs on the back of your neck to stand up. You still couldn’t be in the same room as him, no matter how cool you tried to play it. With a curt nod, you stood up.

As the tension mounted within you, a sudden wave of dizziness washed over, causing you to sway slightly in your place at the gallery. Cristina, noticing your unsteadiness, reached out a hand to steady you.

"Hey, you okay?" she asked, concern etched in her voice.

You forced a smile, nodding weakly. "Yeah, just a little tired," you replied, though the lie tasted bitter on your tongue.

Lexie glanced up, furrowing her brow at your demeanor. "Are you sure?" she remarked, her voice tinged with worry.

Before you could respond, Meredith interjected, concern evident in her eyes as she set her half-eaten apple aside. "Maybe you should take a break, get some fresh air," she suggested, her tone gentle yet firm.

“I just need to leave,” you whispered, hurrying out of the cramped room.

You’re fine.

—

“Hey.”

You looked up from your study notes. Jackson stood in front of you, shifting from one leg to the other. His hand gripping the strap of his backpack tightly.

Your heart was pounding. “Yeah?” You cautiously asked, closing your notebook.

“I just wanted to check in on you,” he admitted, taking a step closer. “You looked rough in the gallery earlier.”

Your heart skipped a beat at his words, a mixture of emotions swirling within you. Anger, hurt, longing—each fighting for dominance as you struggled to maintain your composure.

"I'm fine," you replied, the words coming out more sharply than you intended. "Just a rough day."

Jackson's expression softened, his eyes searching yours for a hint of the turmoil raging within. "You know you can talk to me, right?" he said softly, his voice filled with genuine concern. “I know you. I know you haven’t been eating or sleeping. Meredith told me you barely go home nowadays.”

A bitter laugh escaped your lips, surprising even yourself. "Talk?" you scoffed, the words dripping with sarcasm. "About what, exactly? How you broke my heart?"

His eyes widened, a pained expression crossing his features. "I never meant to hurt you," he said, his voice barely above a whisper. "I thought I was doing what was best for both of us."

"Best for both of us?" you repeated, incredulous. "How is dumping me, without a single good explanation, the best for me?"

Tears welled up in your eyes, threatening to spill over. You blinked them back, refusing to let him see your pain. "You don't get to waltz back into my life and act like everything's okay," you said, your voice trembling with emotion. "I'm not your consolation prize, Jackson."

He reached out a hand, as if to touch you, but you flinched away, the pain of his betrayal still too fresh. "I'm sorry," he whispered, his voice breaking. "I never meant to hurt you. I just... I thought it would be easier this way."

"Easier for who?" you shot back, your anger simmering just below the surface. "Not for me, that's for sure."

With a heavy sigh, Jackson took a step back, his shoulders slumping in defeat. "Fine. I'll leave you alone," he said, his voice filled with resignation. "But just know that I'm here if you ever need me."

As he turned to walk away, you felt a pang of regret, a part of you longing for the comfort of his presence. But you pushed it aside, steeling yourself against the pain. You had survived his absence once; you could do it again.

You’re good. You can do it with a broken heart.

#jackson avery #greys anatomy fanfic #greys anatomy drabble #jackson avery x reader #reader fanfiction #female reader #jesse williams

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xoxoavenger · 10 months

Note

could you do any teen wolf character x reader where she doesn’t know she’s supernatural until the deadpool and everyone is trying to keep it from her bc maybe she’s a character’s sister?

thank you ❣️

Who's Gonna Tell Her?

pairing: Jordan Parrish x Fem!Reader

word count: 2876

warnings: canon typical gore (no detail)

12 Days of Christmas masterlist main masterlist

"Have you told your sister?" Scott asked as they got ready for the game.

"I'm not really sure how. Even I don't fully understand it." Liam told him, pulling his jersey on over his pads.

"Well, she's adopted, right?" Liam nodded at Scott's question. "She could have been born a supernatural but never known. It happened to Lydia."

"The assassin is going to be out tonight. You have to tell her soon." Stiles butt in, and Liam shook his head.

"She's dating Parrish; he can protect her until I figure out what to do." Liam told them, grabbing his stick and shutting his locker. They had been having the same rendition of this conversation for at least thirty minutes, and he was tired of fighting.

"Parrish doesn't know about the deadpool. He doesn't know that she's on it. He can't protect her if he doesn't know what to protect." Stiles pointed out. Scott nodded as he look to his beta.

"We have to at least tell him." Scott agreed, shutting his locker in unison with Stiles.

"Can't we just play lacrosse?" Liam asked. Scott and Stiles shared a look, frowning. They both knew Liam would never be able to 'just play lacrosse' again. "Look, the assassin is on the lacrosse team. Y/N and Parrish have a date night tonight anyway. We just need to worry about ourselves not getting killed." He pointed out, making the older boys nod.

"Alright, but after tonight, we have to figure out a plan." Stiles said as they turned their attention toward coach. He had been talking, giving some kind of speech, but it apparently wasn't important.

"It's only one night. She won't even be here." Liam said, mostly to himself. He was trying to keep from freaking out, because not only was he at risk of dying, but now his sister was too. The worst part was that he didn't even know what his sister was, and he wasn't sure anyone else would either.

"I don't want to have to cancel." Jordan said from his desk. His girlfriend was sitting on top of it, frowning. She had gone all out for this date, even shaving, and of course her boyfriend was busy.

"I know you don't." She looked down, trying not to let her emotions get the best of her. She knew that he wouldn't cancel if he didn't have to, and it did look like he was drowning in work, but it still made her sad.

"The Sheriff is going to the lacrosse game and with all the murders happening-"

"Hey," Y/N grabbed his chin and made him look up, and he sighed as he looked at her gorgeous face. It always grounded him. "It's okay. Maybe I'll go to the lacrosse game too." They shared a kiss, and Jordan wished he could just leave his job.

"How's Liam?" He asked, making Y/N groan.

"I know you are not asking about my brother in the few short moments we have together." He chuckled, kissing her again. He wanted to tell her about Meredith, who was in the Sheriff's office and the reason why he had to cancel, but that meant he could lose his job. He knew that weird things were happening, but he didn't know how to describe it. And part of him - the selfish part - didn't want to somehow endanger or worry her.

"Sorry." He smiled, and Y/N returned it. She got up to leave, giving him a few quick pecks before walking out. "I love you." He called making her smile wider and turn around

"I love you too."

When she got to her car, she tried to call Liam, but it just went to voicemail. She figured he was warming up, so she'd just go anyway. She let his recorded voice ring out as she turned the car on, putting it in reverse as the line beeped.

"Hey, Liam, it's me. Jordan had to cancel, so I'm gonna be coming to your game." It was silent for a second as she thought about what else to say, but ultimately came up empty. "Alright, well, see ya soon! Love you!" She hung up, throwing her phone into the passenger seat and pulling out of the station.

"Liam, is that your sister next to Mason?" Stiles asked the group. They all turned to look into the stands, and Liam put his hands to his head, trying not to break his helmet as emotions ran quickly through him.

"What is she doing here?" Scott turned, and Liam shook his head as he began to freak out.

"She had a date with Parrish! She isn't supposed to be here!" Liam said, the others looking at each other to figure out how to calm him down. She smiled and waved from her place in the bleachers, alone, without Parrish. She was sitting with Mason and Violet, which honestly almost made Liam feel worse. But, she didn't know Malia or Lydia - she had only heard Liam talk about the juniors at random times. As Liam scanned the crowd, he wasn't even sure they were here anyway.

"It's okay, we'll keep an eye on her. As long as she doesn't come out onto the field, we'll be good." Scott patted Liams shoulder before jogging to his position as Coach began to yell at them.

They were losing by one point, only a couple minutes in, and Y/N could tell something was wrong.

"Who are you guys playing?" She asked Mason, who looked at her as if she were crazy. The two had only been introduced once at the Dunbar house, but Y/N didn't know anyone else to sit with; her step-dad was working and her mom had some sort of club tonight.

"You don't know?" Mason asked as Liam got knocked to the ground. Y/N gasped and stood, not even noticing the other team had scored. When Liam got up and took off his helmet and began to shake off his gloves, she realized.

"Oh my God." She whispered, sitting back down. "We're playing Devenford."

"Yeah." Mason confirmed, watching Liam get held back from a fight. Y/N looked around, realizing the Sheriff had never made it. She wondered what the hold up was at the station, and what Jordan was doing.

The game passed, Kira scoring the first goal but then immediately being taken out. There was definitely some extra tension on the field, Y/N noticed, even within their own team. The game kept getting more brutal, and sure enough soon Liam was being flipped over two other players. Y/N didn't have time to think before she was running down, her brother's screams igniting her older sister instincts. She made it to the field, pushing everyone away until she got to her little brother on the ground.

"Liam! Oh my God, are you alright? What's hurt?" She asked. She went through her mental checklist, but she didn't finish before two other players were hauling him up. "Hey!" She screamed, pushing them away.

"How hard did you hit him?" Number 11 asked her bother, and Liam shook his head slightly.

"I didn't." He answered, and Y/N pushed the other boy away.

"Liam, where does it hurt? Is anything broken?" She asked, checking his arms. It wasn't long before she found the broken bone bulging out of his arm.

"Ow." Number 24 commented, but Y/N ignored him.

"Alright, let's get you to the hospital. I can try to reset it, but-"

"No," Liam breathed as Number 11 took off his gloves. He looked at Liam as he took his arm, and Y/N tried pushing him away again.

"Hey, stop! You're going to hurt him!" She yelled, but Liam shook his head.

"Y/N, let Scott fix it." He told her. She stood still, not sure what was going on. How was this high school senior going to fix a broken arm? Her heart was racing, head spinning as all she could think about was if Liam would be okay.

"Close your eyes." Scott told Liam. Y/N watched as Scott twisted the bone back in and Liam cried out, and she really pushed him that time. Scott went flying back, and she quickly began to check Liam's arm. She didn't notice the looks the others gave her at the display of unusual strength.

"I-I don't understand, how is there no discoloration? No blood?" It seemed Liam's arm was as good as new as she checked it, and Liam moved to place his hands over her's.

"Y/N, I promise I'll explain, just wait until after the game, please." Liam told her. She nodded, trusting him, but a terrible feeling began in her gut. She watched Scott and Liam both shoot their heads toward another player, Scott immediately searching his own body.

"Are you cut? Did Garret cut you?" He asked Liam. Liam looked at his arms, shaking his head.

"No, no. I'm okay." He told Scott, the two of them looking at their teammate. Y/N placed her hands over her abdomen where the pain was coming from, surprised to feel a liquid there. Apparently her gut feeling was a bit more than a feeling.

"Then he missed." Scott said, but Y/N just shook her head. She was beginning to feel faint, like her head was clouded.

"I don't think he missed." She muttered, pulling her hands away from her dark sweater to reveal the blood on them. She began to fall, and Scott and Liam moved to grab her as she fell. She grabbed Liam's jersey, pain coursing through her stomach. Unbeknownst to her, her eyes flashed purple. Scott and Stiles looked at each other.

"What does that mean?" Liam asked, holding her close.

"I don't know, but we have to get her out of here without anyone else seeing." Scott told Liam, the two of them looking around. They had no idea where to go, where someone wouldn't see them.

"We just have to go for it." Stiles said. Everyone was focused on Brett, who was still down, so the four of them slinked out, Scott holding Y/N. They made it to the jeep, where Y/N was laid in the backseat with Liam.

"Should we call Parrish?" Scott asked, and Stiles just shook his head.

"Lydia just cracked another third of the deadpool." He said, looking between his phone and the road. Scott took the phone, looking at the list.

"Am I on it?" Liam asked, scooting up.

"What the hell are you all talking about?" Y/N groaned, her eyes flashing purple once more. "And why is everything so loud?" She cried, pressing her hands to her head. The engine sounded like it was inside her brain, echoing and rattling her skull.

"Someone else is on it." Scott commented, showing Liam. He sucked in a breath as the Alpha took back the phone. Of course Parrish was on the list.

"Please someone call Jordan. I want to talk to him before I die." Y/N said, sitting up. She groaned, realizing the shirt Liam had been wearing under his uniform was pressed to her abdomen, which was still profusely bleeding.

"You aren't going to die." Stiles rolled his eyes before looking in the rearview mirror. "Probably."

"Stiles!" Scott scolded. They couldn't be telling her that she was going to die on her first supernatural experience.

"Where are we going, this isn't the way to the hospital." Y/N commented as she focused her eyes. She had never been in this part of town, only having moved with Parrish last month. Before, she had lived in the neighboring town with her family. When her mom had married Dr. Geyer and moved to Beacon Hills, Y/N had already moved out.

"Don't worry about it." Stiles winked at her through the mirror, but she wasn't looking. She was on her phone, trying to find Parrish's contact. Just as she was going to press on it, it was pulled from her.

"You can't call him." Liam said, snatching her phone out of her hand.

"Why," Y/N stopped, falling back against the wall of the car and groaning as a wave of pain hit her. She opened her mouth in pain, not even realizing her incisors had grown. Liam looked terrified as she cried out, eyes flashing purple once more. This was not the face of a werewolf.

"Guys!" Liam called. Scott turned, eyes widening when he saw what was going on. Y/N was still withering in pain, oblivious to what they were talking about. She flopped against Liam finally, who was freaking out.

"Holy shit," Scott whispered as Stiles turned into the parking lot. Her eyes closed and the incisors went back to normal, but she was barely breathing now.

"We need to get her inside!" Liam yelled, helping Scott get her out. They made it to the door and into clinic quickly, Deaton looking only mildy surprised as they burst through the door.

"She has purple eyes and fangs!" Stiles yelled, but Liam growled at him immediately.

"She was stabbed. It has to be poison." He informed the vet. Deaton nodded, then looked at them.

"I have to cut her chest open to extract the poison. See how she's foaming at the mouth?" Once Deaton pointed it out the obvious, and the other's nodded. "I need you to hold her down." He told Liam and Scott. The two move to each side, where she was seizing.

"Won't cutting her open kill her?" Liam asked as Deaton cut her clothes open. He grabbed a scalpel, pressing it to her skin.

"If she is what you say she is, and she is effected this bad by the wolfsbane, then she'll be fine." Deaton couldn't waste any more time, pressing the scalpel into her skin and cutting. Just as he had finished the incision, police sirens were heard outside.

"Did you tell your dad?" Scott turned to Stiles, able to let go of the girl now. She was laying still on the table, breathing evenly.

"No, dude, I swear." Stiles shook his head, and Parrish came running in.

"What did you do to her?" He yelled, pushing past everyone until he was right next to her.

"You cut her open? What the hell are you thinking?" Jordan held her hand, pushing her hair out of her face. He was shaking as he looked at the bloody cut, holding her hand but not sure what to do to help. He couldn't even think of a plausible reason why the boys would take her to a vet when she was clearly hurt, and he was even more baffled by the fact that the vet thought he was qualified enough to cut into her like a surgeon.

"Parrish, just-just calm down, okay?" Liam said cautiously, but Jordan looked at him with fire in his eyes.

"This is your sister we're talking about! How are you fine?" Jordan had tears falling out of his eyes, then turned to Deaton. "You! You're a veterinarian, not a human doctor! This is illegal on so many levels! As soon as I make sure she gets to the hospital, you're coming with me!" Jordan yelled, not paying attention to Y/N anymore.

"Parrish, she's okay." Scott told him, making him look at her. She no longer had the long gash going down her torso. Jordan simply stared, not sure what had just happened.

"Is this some kind of joke?" He asked, sniffling as he looked around the teens and doctor in the room. There was no actual explanation for this, he was sure of it. They had to be pranking him for some sick reason.

"There's a conversation we have to have." Scott told him, but before he could get any further, Y/N was breathing in and opening her eyes. They were purple, making Jordan even more confused.

"Y/N, what's going on?" He asked, but she just closed her eyes and groaned. When she opened her eyes again, they were normal.

"Jordan? What happened?" Y/N asked, looking around as Jordan took his jacket off and wrapped it around her, letting her zip it up. She felt her torso, realizing her stab wound was gone. "What is going on?" She looked up at Liam, who was blinking dumbly.

"I have no idea." He said, and Y/N was about ready to lose her shit.

"What do you mean?" She cried out, feeling Jordan tense next to her. She turned to see Liam looking completely fine. "Your arm was broken, like twenty minutes ago!" She saw her brother looking completely fine.

"I told you so," Stiles muttered, and Y/N wished she had something to throw at him.

"You didn't tell us shit," Liam said, instantly annoyed.

"Yes! I did!" Stiles exploded, looking very offended. "I literally said 'You need to tell her.' I believe those were the exact words that came out of my mouth."

"Tell me what?" Y/N asked, tired of watching her brother and his friend bicker.

"What?" All three teenagers asked at the same time, wide eyes looking completely guilty.

"Liam," Her big sister eyes came out, which made Liam cower slightly.

"It's a long story," He starts, turning to Scott as if he would explain everything. Y/N was staring intently at Liam, brows furrowed and eyes angered. She screamed when Scott turned to her with red eyes.

"Oh my God," She whispered, leaning back against Jordan. She closes her eyes. "What the actual fuck?"

taglist: @mcueveryday

#jordan parrish x reader #jordan parrish #jordan parrish teen wolf #teen wolf imagine #teen wolf x reader

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stormsbourne · 4 months

Text

honestly though dragon age 2 was the exact perfect game to follow dragon age origins and it's almost entirely because of the things that most hardc0re gamerz hated most: the inability to change or divert what happens

you go from a game where you are a special rainbow star who the plot and world seems to rotate around to a game where you are just a person who ends up a significant figure mostly by chance. in origins you are one of the only survivors of a mass betrayal by the king's right hand man, and you have it drilled into you again and again that your choices matter. not only do they matter but they are the fulcrum the worldstate moves around. not a fan of the werewolves? kill them all off and let the guy who cursed them in the first place off scot free. think golems would be a sick way to really fuck up an archdemon? revive that ancient tech at the cost of who knows how many lower-class and casteless dwarf lives. you are the one who determines if the archdemon dies or gets reborn as a supernatural infant boy. it is all on you.

in dragon age 2 almost nothing is on you. the other characters have goals and motivations and you might be able to slightly affect them, but some things happen regardless. fenris always kills hadriana. anders always blows up the chantry. isabela always has already stolen the qunari artifact and merrill is not capable of being persuaded not to fuck with the eluvian. sure, you can affect their fates. do you sell fenris back into slavery? do you kill merrill's entire clan to protect her reputation or let her take the brunt of it to spare them? does anders live or die? bethany? carver? but the actions the characters take mostly happen regardless of hawke's input. the worldstate does not morph to fit what you want it to be anymore because the characters have too much weight in the people they already are.

and the wider plot reflects this, too. the qunari are unwilling to negotiate a peace, especially once they deem kirkwall too far gone to be worth saving. meredith is set in her ways and cannot be convinced out of her mindset. you cannot save leandra. anders, again, always blows up the chantry. hawke is involved in many of these events but they are far from being the fulcrum the world spins around. they are just a person, like most other people, caught up in the conflicts of forces so much more powerful and more ingrained into society than they are, that the best they can do is to ride the waves. to leap forward as the world changes around them, as flemeth fortells early in the game. the big reveal varric hesitates to tell cassandra for so long is that hawke was just a person, caught up in a million conflicts that they tried to stop but could not because the world was already too set against them. a fish struggling upstream for its whole life, and if you buy the depiction of hawke in inquisition, one who sort of resented the role they ended up playing in what became of the wider world.

it's perfect. it's beautiful. I know the narrative these days is that it's so constrained because of the short dev cycle, and while I do think that if the dev cycle had been longer there would have been more polish and shine, I think this theme was always intended because it's such a perfect foil to origins. origins says show me how important you are, the world your warden wants to create. da2 says that the world already exists, and the best you can do is try to keep things from getting worse, and make a tiny impact for the better in the lives of the people around you. the mages you help escape kirkwall while they can, the people you manage to save from slavers. maybe you can't change the world, maybe it's too set against you. but you can change something. some little things.

it slaps.

#god I really hope dav is good #dragon age #dragon age 2

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justcallmecappy · 1 year

Text

One of the criticisms I've seen DA players have in response to Anders' actions at the Kirkwall Chantry is some degree of, 'his actions forced innocent mages into a war they had no choice whether or not they wanted to be involved in'.

What a lot of these players seem to miss is this: The mages were already involved. They have been involved since childhood, when their magic manifested.

If you are born a mage in Southern Thedas, you are marked. The Templars will find you, or your neighbors who were conditioned by the Chantry to fear magic will turn you in, and you are brought to the Circle where you are at risk of Tranquility, or Annulment, and subjected to a Harrowing. Your children born to you in the Circle will be taken from you to be raised in a Chantry orphanage (like Wynne's child was). You are not allowed to get married, or start a family, or own land. You are not allowed to leave your Circle ever, unless conscripted to fight in the army (like in the Fifth Blight) or fulfilling some whim or need of those in power (like Malcolm Hawke being made to entertain nobles at a party). You might be thrown into the dungeon and left to starve to death, like the mage child Cole (and other mage apprentices of the White Spire) did. You are at risk of physical and sexual abuse, like the mages of the Gallows were.

Innocent mages were already involved. They were already being killed, they were already fighting for their lives for centuries since the inception of Circles, long before Anders' actions.

Also, in the case of the Gallows specifically, Knight-Commander Meredith had already called for the Annulment as early as the beginning/mid of Act 3. The mages' lives were already in danger, even before the Chantry was destroyed.

Anders tried for six years to make people listen and show how magic is not meant to be feared and can be used for good -- by publishing a manifesto, by providing free magical healthcare in Darktown -- to bring people's attention to the plight of mages and change things for the better. It took the imminent threat of his people being slaughtered wholesale for him to resort to what is aptly titled 'The Last Straw'.

If players want to blame anyone for subjecting mages to a conflict they did not want, look no further than the Chantry and their system of exploitation and oppression over the mages. Put blame on the Chantry for forcing mages into lives they did not choose, and asserting methods of culling and control over them, simply for how they were born. It was the Chantry that gave them no choice whether or not they had a say in staying alive or dying.

And if DA players would still say that the mages could have tried for a more "peaceful route" to alleviate their circumstances (despite seeing how Anders' manifesto, his Darktown clinic, and years of trying to negotiate with Elthina failed and Meredith was calling for Annulment anyway): very rarely do the oppressed win change by pandering to the morals of their oppressors.

Innocent mages were already suffering and being murdered in droves, for centuries. Innocent mages were already involved in this struggle, whether they wanted to be or not. And Anders' actions at the Chantry was like a rallying cry: If we're going to die anyway, then I'd rather die trying to take them down than giving them what they want.

(Also, I have not yet gone into detail on what actually started the mage-templar war, which was the Seekers hiding the cure for Tranquility, and Lord Seeker Lambert's decision to dissolve the Nevarran accord and take the Templars hunting for the free mages across the countryside because he decided dead mages were better than free mages -- because that's a whole separate post.)

#da fandom critical #bioware critical #anders defense squad #da meta #in defense of anders dragon age #anders #dragon age 2 #chantry critical #templar critical #elthina critical #anders was right #mage rights #plight of mages #mage-templar war #sometimes the da fandom makes me want to flip tables #my meta

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bigassbowlingballhead · 2 years

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there's a lot of disappointment around Meredith's exit on the social medias.

I think part of that has to do with expectations the fans have set for themselves. another part of it is Ellen herself. She hasn't put her most into grey's the last couple seasons. She's been wanting out.

she's also not gone forever, just no longer a series regular. She'll be back from time to time probably for big events, like deaths, finales, premiers, and returns.

A lot of the promotion promised nostalgia. And I think we got that. We got cute little nods to the first season in the new interns, and nods back to moment's like the cake mess-up and Amelia actually talking about Christopher.

Meredith's exit was Meredith. She doesn't want everyone to make a big deal about her, as a result of her neglected childhood.

#I've been on the meredith hate train since the beach #like i've said it so many times #she hasn't had a compelling story on the show since then #because Ellen has been checked the fuck out #the show is going to thrive without her #and i guarantee a lot of the it won't be the same without her #won't even notice she's gone in a couple weeks #because the newbies are INTERESTING #they're GOOD #they're a new magic #grey's anatomy

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thursdaygxrls · 1 year

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Seeing It Out (‘Seeing Her’ Part Two)

summary — george weasley might (maybe) have a small crush. too bad she’s totally oblivious.

paring — george weasley x fem!bookworm!reader

disclaimer — i don’t own harry potter property, i don’t own this gif, and i don’t edit because i’m lazy. also, argyle & dicken’s isn’t real, i made it up.

warnings — everyone is stupid. maybe ooc.

read part one here!

She noticed him staring at her in potions. Well, she never proved it was her he was looking at, but she had a suspicion. Every time she would look up to transcribe the notes or recipes Snape described, she could see a mass of tangerine hair fly forward just a few desks ahead of her. She didn’t think anything of it at first. Why would she? But then she noticed him staring at her out of the corner of her eye before class one day. That look alone made her realize two things:

1. The looks she thought she may have been receiving were no coincidence and

2. The one staring was George Weasley

“I’m scared. Seriously, he’s planning something,” she confided as she and her friend, Meredith, began to stroll from dinner to their dorm, “He’s been watching me for a few weeks now. Something is going on.”

“Oh, don’t be silly,” Meredith giggled.

“I’m serious! When the Weasley twins set their sights on you, you’re dead in the water,” she guffawed.

“Or…” Meredith trailed off with a smile.

“Or?” She turned to her with an inquisitive look.

“Perhaps you tickled his fancy.” Meredith shimmied her shoulders suggestively.

“I tickled who and what?” Her eyes widened as she felt a laugh bubble at the back of her throat.

“I’m saying that maybe he keeps staring because he fancies you,” Meredith explained.

“George Weasley?” Her eyes crinkled as her grin widened slightly, “You’re mad.”

“Not mad, intuitive,” Meredith tapped her head, “You’re cute! You’re smart! Everyone in this bloody school ought to be head over heals for you!” She shook her almost comedically.

“Alright!” She laughed, “I get it! I’m fabulous!”

“Good,” Meredith said with a large smile, “Now, think about talking to him.”

“We haven’t disposed of the ‘the twins are going to put fireworks in my pillowcase’ theory,” she shook her head.

“I’ve disposed of it. It’s gone.” Meredith pretended to throw something before wiping her hands together, “But seriously, talk to him if you’re interested, y’know? He’s not too bad on the eyes – and I doubt he’s all too evil.”

“I guess I’ll think about it,” she shrugged, “How’s Emma going?”

“It’s – shit, I left it in the Great Hall,” Meredith groaned, “Wait here for me, alright?”

“I’ll wait an eternity for you!” She called after the girl.

“Put those moves on someone else, would you?” Meredith winked before disappearing down the hall.

George Weasley. He was popular, maybe not as much as his twin brother, but he was one-half of the dynamic pranking duo. She’d seen them before; they watched people, and so did she. They always observed their prey before attacking — but their targets were never just innocent bystanders. She’d like to think she was innocent. She’d like to think a lot of things, though, and not all of them were true.

Meredith was taking a while. Was she right? Was he interested in her? The thought seemed silly, foreign. It was like a honey bee finding a hidden daisy in a room full of tulips. Yet, she couldn’t help but smile at the thought. It was a nice thought. A flash of orange alerted her to the balcony in front of her. Funnily enough, standing at the edge, staring out to the floor below them, were the Weasley twins – and George was staring at her.

It was curious. This was the first time they’d ever connected eyes, yet it felt entirely natural. Maybe it was because she’d stared a thousand people in the eyes, or maybe this was different. She looked at him, and he looked at her, and for a moment, time was able to exist on a different plane entirely. God, was it cheesy. She’d read about this before; the lovers’ first meeting. Wait, lovers? They aren’t lovers, they don’t even know each other, besides – oh God. In a flash, something fell from George’s hand, flying down from the balcony and directly onto poor Professor Flitwick’s head. The thing burst ceremoniously and a powder fizzled around the man. He batted at himself in confusion as she looked on at him with horror. His hair was entirely green.

What the bloody hell was that?

She clutched her copy of The Picture of Dorian Gray — the copy that had just been knocked from her hands — in her sweaty palms. Today had been going great, spectacular even. Her dreams had wiped any memory of possible crushes from her mind. She woke up early, found a matching pair of socks on her first try, and was ready to pick up a new book. Meredith had shoed her out of the dorms when she attempted to wake the girl; she preferred sleep over food. So, it was just her and Dorian who’d made it out to the stairs when she was pushed (nudged?) to the ground.

By George Weasley, of course.

She’d wondered if this was a part of his scheme for a moment. It would be the perfect time to catch her off guard — bright and early before she’d even wiped the crust from her eyes. But then she saw his face and the shock that drew over his features. He certainly didn’t mean to bump into her. At least, it didn’t seem like it.

They conversed in an awkward manner, but managed to hit one another only once more. The real issue was the end of the conversation:

“See you in potions, George!”

It was meant to be friendly, a sort of peace offering if he was still trying to pull off something dodgy. And, of course, it was friendly enough until she realized she had never talked to him before. She sounded like a stalker. A bad stalker at that. She let her mind race as she rushed off to the Great Hall, hoping to not see the boy again before she got there.

It was a dragging, near exhausting wait until potions. Her nerves were so shot that, even if she calmed down, they would still leave a searing imprint under the surface of her skin. By lunch, she’d decided to try to calm herself. Surely he’d forget before then. Surely it would all resolve itself. Surely, she thought to herself as she pushed into the potions’ lab, there was–

He was sitting in her chair.

Meredith was late, unable to save her, and George was sitting at her table.

Her first move was to take cautious steps toward her destination. She knew well enough that this confrontation was unavoidable (or maybe she’d just built it up in her mind too much). She would just grit her teeth and bear it, though, because the only other alternative was to flee Hogwarts entirely.

“Hey!” He’d seen her, and she froze. She was only a step or two away from her seat, of course he saw her.

“Hi,” she responded with less grandeur. He stood in front of her, slicking his hands against his slacks as he smiled.

“Sorry about this morning,” his grin damn near sparkled, “I only do that sort of thing on the field usually.”

“Right,” she nodded. He was standing right in front of her seat, trapping it with his lanky body.

“Yeah,” his confidence stuttered momentarily, “Uh, your book. How is it?”

“Dorian Gray?” She questioned, receiving a nod, “Oh, it’s alright. A couple blokes doing a lot of talking.”

“Any puke?” George cocked his head.

“There’s blood,” she replied.

“Fluid is fluid,” he shrugged. There was another hesitation before he spoke again:

“I noticed you read a lot – muggle books, I mean. It’s interesting,” he stuck his hands in his pockets, “I was thinking about picking up a muggle book, but I don’t know where to start.”

So this was it. Weeks of stares and stilted interactions because of her obsession. She let out an audible sigh of relief. Any ounce of fear or tension drained from her body, and in its place, a peace rooted itself. Apparently, all it took to crack her shell was the mention of books.

“Oh, sure!” She spoke, her lips curling into a smile, “If you tell me what you fancy in a story I could find something you’d enjoy.”

“That’d be great,” he grinned, “Maybe I could tell you this weekend at Hogsmeade?”

“Hogsmeade?” Her eyebrows furrowed.

“Yeah,” he perked up suddenly, “There’s that muggle book shop near the outside of town — Argyle and Dicken’s? You could help me find something. Maybe we can go for butterbear after?”

There was nothing Jane Austen could have done to prepare her for an offer like this. No romance novel she’d ever read could help her. She couldn’t reply with something witty, or cute, or sultry. She couldn’t wink or do something flirtatious. All she was capable of doing was giving him a near-dumbfounded look whilst attempting to close her partially agape mouth. George Weasley wanted a little more than just a recommendation.

“She’d love to.” A feminine voice spoke from behind her. Meredith, somewhat winded and somewhat late, swooped in beside her to press a metaphorical hand to her jaw.

“Love to,” she repeated, though a little less confident. George seemed to appreciate the answer anyways, giving a quick nod of greeting to Meredith before smiling back at the other girl.

“Outside the castle at noon this Sunday work?”

“It, yeah, yes, it would work.” She nodded vigorously.

“Wicked,” he chuckled lightly, “It’s a da–“

“Get to your seats.” Professor Snape’s deep voice commanded. She, as well as Meredith, wasted no time shuffling past the boy to their chairs. George moved, though, only after he hesitated a moment. The potions lesson began unceremoniously, and she couldn’t help but look over to Meredith as Snape’s monotonous voice consumed the classroom.

“What was that?” She asked, eyes still wide.

"That was you getting yourself a date." Meredith whispered her reply happily.

A date. With George Weasley – the same George Weasley she had thought to be plotting against her, or at least hoping for her downfall. Yet, she couldn’t help but smile as the lesson went on.

A date.

With George Weasley.

hey guys, quick little note: i’m going to be starting a tag list so it’s easier to let people know when i post. if you’re interested in joining, comment a 🐝 on this post so i know who to add. alright, love u guys, toodles!

#george weasley #george weasley fluff #george weasley x you #george weasley x y/n #george weasley x reader #george weasley drabble #harry potter #fred weasley #hogwarts #fluff #bookworm #reading #classic lit #george wealsey imagine #thursday writes

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roosterforme · 1 year

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The Younger Kind Part 28 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: Bradley is leaving soon, and everything is changing for you. As your graduation approaches, he takes some matters into his own hands. He wants to share everything with you, and sometimes it's easier to ask for forgiveness than permission.

Warnings: Angst, swearing, fluff, smut, and age gap (18+)

Length: 4700 words

Pairing: Single dad!Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x babysitter!female reader

Check out my masterlist for more! The Younger Kind masterlist.

Sunday night ended up being family night, and Bradley was hoping it could become a regular occurrence. The three of you went to see a movie, and Noah sat in the middle. Or at least he started out there. About halfway through, Bradley scooped Noah up onto his lap and slid over one seat, wanting to be closer to you.

So when the movie wrapped up and you had your fingers laced with his and your head resting on his shoulder, Bradley made it a point to say this should happen all the time.

You kissed Noah's cheek and then his before you stood. "But you'll be deployed soon, Daddy."

He eyed you up and down as he stood with Noah's arms wrapped around his neck. "Trust me. I know how much I'll be missing out on when I'm gone. The two of you will be eating homemade food and taking nature hikes."

"And coloring," Noah supplied.

"Can't forget about that," Bradley said, reaching for your hand. "Now let's get you home. One of you has daycare in the morning, and one of you has finals."

"I still wish you could come with me," you whispered, letting your cheek rest on his bicep on the way to the parking lot. "I'm sure I'd do much better if I got to sit on your lap and eat Skittles the whole time."

After Bradley buckled Noah into his carseat, he wrapped his hands around your hips and pulled your body to his. "No reason we can't keep having sexy Skittles time at home," he rasped. "There's something magical about you and me and the living room couch."

You whimpered as your hands came to rest on his chest. When you pressed your glossy lips together, Bradley wanted to take you right up against the Bronco again. But he knew everyone needed to call it an early night, which probably meant no sex.

So he opened your door for you and helped you inside and then drove home. When you and he were in bed for the night, he kept his hands in innocent enough places as you studied a few more things on your phone. He quizzed you on a few topics, and when you started yawning, he insisted it was time to go to sleep.

"You'll do great, Princess," he whispered, gathering you up in front of his big body and spooning you. "I love you."

"Love you, Daddy," you sighed softly as you fell asleep. Truth be told, he was less worried about your day than he was his, because he knew you'd do great. Meanwhile Bradley was going to have to run across town during lunch to meet with Tracy. He already had a case of Red Bull in the back of the Bronco that you insisted he should take to her. And he had to follow through with everything related to Meredith, which were some loose ends he was anxious to get tied up.

He usually slept great with your body tucked against his and his hand resting on your belly, but not tonight. Noah was old enough now that the deployments were going to get harder. And Bradley didn't know what he was going to do if you wouldn't move in with him. Or if you found a job outside of San Diego and moved away. You told him you applied to a world-renowned hospital in Arizona. What exactly was he supposed to do with that information? Demand that you stay here in California and continue to love the two of them forever?

His lips came to rest on your neck, and you whimpered in your sleep. This was the first time Bradley had ever felt this way. He supposed he'd loved Meredith. He'd been in love with another of his exes, too. But this was insane. And you were so young, Bradley could feel you holding back when he talked too much about the future. So he knew he was going to have to keep things exactly where they were for a few more months, at least until he got home.

He must have dozed off eventually, because he woke to you kissing his forehead and whispering, "I'm heading to campus. Good luck with Tracy."

"Wait," he grunted, sitting up and reaching for you. He tugged on your hand until you were sprawled across him in bed giggling softly. Bradley cupped your neck with one hand and stroked your cheek with his thumb. "You'll do great today, Baby. You're incredible."

With a kiss to the tip of his nose, you were running out of his bedroom, and Bradley decided to just get up for the day as well. And when he went into the kitchen, he found a full breakfast spread for him and Noah on the table. Fruit, bagels, jelly and muffins. And a little note for him to read to Noah saying you had to leave too early to say good morning, but that you'd be back in time for dinner.

"Fuck," Bradley groaned, holding the note in one hand and cradling his face in the other. He needed you here. They both did. It was startling that he could hardly remember what it was like before he met you.

"Daddy?" Noah called from the hallway, and then Bradley got started on the morning routine.

-----------------------------

When Tracy's receptionist opened her office door for him, Bradley strolled in wearing his flight suit and carrying the case of cans of Red Bulls. Tracy looked up from her small conference table and started laughing.

"You're a client," she informed him. "I shouldn't accept gifts from clients."

He shook his head. "Not from me. From my girlfriend."

"Ah," she said, reaching out to take it from him. "Then I accept. Have a seat."

Then Bradley was presented with a huge folder of things to read and sign. Tracy went through all of it with him and answered what seemed like a hundred questions, and after an hour, he'd worked his way to the end. "So what does that all mean exactly?"

She ran a purple highlighter over his name on the last sheet and said, "Means you are Noah's sole legal guardian. The only one who has rights to anything related to custody. As soon as you pay me and I file the paperwork, that is."

Bradley was reaching for his checkbook right away, but Tracy held up a hand. "Not yet. You asked me to look into appointing a temporary guardian for Noah? And what it would take to get a protective order?"

"Three protective orders," Bradley clarified. "All against Meredith."

Tracy sighed and leaned back in her seat. "You want to appoint your girlfriend as a temporary guardian? While you're deployed?"

"Yes."

"No problem. We can fill that paperwork out right now."

Bradley's heart soared in his chest. But only until Tracy said, "However... getting protective orders against Meredith for all three of you is going to be a little bit tricky."

"How?" Bradley demanded. "She attacked my family when they were at a playground! I can't be around to watch them all the time."

She shook her head. "I'm not talking about them. I'm talking about you. If you know you're leaving for deployment, you'll have to disclose that information to the clerk. And if you try to lie about it, then I won't be able to represent you any further."

"What does my deployment have to do with the fact that I know my girlfriend still thinks about slamming into the parking lot at Myers Park? I was picking asphalt out of her arm."

She shrugged like she knew he was right. "Exactly. But the only times you saw Meredith were when you invited her into your house and when she accidentally ran into you at the coffee shop."

"I doubt that was an accident," Bradley ground out through gritted teeth.

"Be that as it may," Tracy said, walking across the room for two water bottles, "when you combine that with the fact that you'll be out of the country, you may be denied."

Bradley sat quietly for a moment and sipped the water bottle he was given. "Well, can I file for the three of us anyway?"

"Sure. The filing fees will total around $1,300. And you can sign for Noah. She will have to sign and submit hers on her own behalf."

"Give me the papers," he said, and she stood to print them out. "And if you have the time, I'd like to ask you what exactly would be involved if I ever get married and decide I want someone to adopt Noah."

--------------------------

Bradley and Noah were already home when you got there, and you went running inside with your tote bag smacking your hip. "Bradley?" you shouted, sprinting into the kitchen and right into his arms. "I aced my anatomy exam," you whispered against his lips as you threw your arms around his neck.

He slipped his hands around your waist and held you as he kissed you. "I knew it," he said with a smile as you kissed him a little harder. Your fingers were in his hair and you were tasting his mouth with your body pressed again his hard chest and abs. And then you heard Noah scoot his chair across the floor, and he came over to investigate.

With a soft grunt, Bradley let go of you. Then you knelt down and kissed the top of Noah's head. But when you looked back up at Bradley, his eyes were needy as he planted his hands on his hips.

"I didn't even get to the best news yet," you told him as Noah hugged you. "I have two job interviews tomorrow. One in the morning and one in the afternoon."

Bradley pulled you to your feet, and Noah was sandwiched between you. "Where are the jobs?" he asked, his voice a little rough.

You licked your lips and smiled at him, but he looked apprehensive. "One is in a hospital and the other is private practice. I'm excited about both of them."

"Are they here?" he asked, his left hand gripping your waist a little tight. "In San Diego?"

"Yes," you replied. You turned down interviews with a few out of state jobs already. It was a no brainer at this point; you wouldn't be this happy anywhere else. "I want to stay in San Diego."

After that, Bradley didn't leave your side for the rest of the night. He helped you make dinner, he helped you get Noah ready for bed, and then he helped you get organized for both of your interviews. And he kept kissing you as often as he could. "You're clingy tonight, Daddy," you said as he pulled you onto his lap on the couch. "Not that I mind, really."

His hands were up inside your shirt, his big palms flat on your waist. "You scared me with that Arizona bullshit the other day."

You snorted and kissed his cheek. "I applied for that one after I thought you and Helen were hooking up."

"Shhh." He shushed you and then kissed your lips. "Don't say that. You belong right here."

You licked his lips and wiggled yourself against him. "Right here? With your dick poking at me?"

He was trying not to laugh. You could tell. You always got a good laugh out of him, and this time he chuckled before he ground himself up against you. "Yes, Princess. Right here on my dick."

He let you tilt his head back against the couch so you could take control of kissing him. It was sloppy and hot, and he had your shirt and bra off in no time. He used his big hands to slow down the rolling of your hips as he dipped his lips down to tease your breasts. He wasn't rushing anything, just gently sucking and releasing you with soft moans and grunts. But you were going to lose it. Your fingers were tugging on his hair, and you thought you might cum with your jeans on.

"You're so sensitive," he whispered, nibbling on the underside of your left breast. His tongue flicked over your nipple and you whined his name. "Gorgeous tits."

When you slipped down to the floor between his legs, intending to suck his dick here like that very first night, you only got your lips around his cock for a few seconds before he wrapped his hand around the front of your neck and stopped you. "What are you doing? I want your daddy dick."

"Fuck," Bradley growled. "You're gonna get it." He eased you back onto the floor and stripped your jeans off you and pulled his own pants down to his knees. "I said you belong on my dick. You didn't disagree."

He kissed the valley between your breasts before rolling to your side. He looked cocky, laying next to the snag in the area rug with his arms folded behind his head. But he had every right to lay there with a smug expression, because his cock was huge, and he knew how to use it.

"I don't disagree," you whispered, straddling him and slipping him inside where he stretched you until you were gasping and grabbing at his shirt. With the fabric balled up in both fists, you leaned down to kiss him and whisper, "You're huge, Daddy."

"Mmm," he hummed, kissing you back but making no move to touch you. "Show me what you got, Baby."

You were clenching just from his words alone, and when you started riding him, you teased your own clit with your middle finger. He had you doing all the work to get yourself off. Not that it was difficult with his cock inside you and his handsome face to look at. When you squeezed your breasts, it looked like he was going to reach for you, but instead he just let himself relax and watch. It shouldn't have surprised you that you got off twice on him like this, moaning and jerking your body along. You were sweating and shaking after the second time you came, and Bradley eventually reached up and stroked his fingers along your neck again.

"Did you get enough?" he asked, and you nodded vigorously. "You ready for me to cum in that pussy?"

"God, yes," you moaned, and he brought his hands to your hips and guided you in a smooth rolling motion that would have been enough for you to finish again if you weren't so wrung out.

"I'll cum for you," he grunted. "Every fucking time." And then he was gritting his teeth, the veins in his neck and forehead so prominent against his skin. And he came with your raspy name on his lips.

You snuggled against his chest, thoroughly exhausted but honestly having the best day. He rubbed your back gently and kissed the top of your head. "God, you're such a good girl," he whispered, and you let out the most embarrassing sound in response that just made him chuckle.

"I'm ready for bed," you informed him a minute later as you let his soft cock slip out of you.

When you met his eyes, he kissed you softly and said, "Can you do one thing for me first? In the kitchen?"

So you pulled your underwear and shirt back on and shuffled into the kitchen with his hand on your hip. He nodded at the table, and you sank down, exhausted, into one of the chairs.

"Would you mind filling this out?" he asked, handing you a pen and some paperwork. But you froze when you really looked at it.

"You want me to fill out a petition for an order of protection?" you asked, looking up at him. "Against Meredith? Did Tracy say this was a good idea?"

He kissed you so well, you decided to stop questioning everything. And when he said, "Yes, Princess. Please fill it out," he stood next to your chair as you started writing your name at the top. You filled everything out all the way to the bottom. You wrote a bit about Meredith at Myers Park which gave you chills. When you filled out your social security number, Bradley removed his hand from your back to type something up in his phone. But when you got to the end and saw that it would require over four hundred bucks to process this form, you pushed it aside.

"You know, I don't think this is actually necessary." You set the pen down on top of it and added, "I think the most important thing is that you and Noah have some sort of protection in place like-"

Bradley silenced you with a lingering kiss that trailed off into a dozen tiny kisses before he pulled his lips away from yours. "It's necessary. I need to know that I did everything I could to keep you and Noah protected, okay? And I'll pay for it."

But you didn't want him to. You should be able to do things like that for yourself. And you would! In a few weeks you'd hopefully have a steady income. Things would be different then. You could buy new clothes, and it wouldn't be the end of the world if your car died. But right now, paying to have this form processed would be a stretch beyond what you could afford. And you were about to tell Bradley no and rip it up, but he was holding his phone screen in front of your face.

"Pick a design," he said, placing the phone in your hand. "They have one with a princess crown I thought you might enjoy."

"What's this for?" you asked, completely puzzled while looking at the Mastercard website. "I don't need another credit card."

"I added you to my account," he said confidently. "Just pick a design so I can order your card and have it arrive before I deploy."

"What?" you gasped, handing the phone right back to him and standing up. "No, you don't have to do that. Don't add me."

"I already did, Baby. I just read your social security number off the form you filled out. Choosing a card design is the last step, and the page is going to time out in a minute. You want the one with the princess crown?"

"You shouldn't be paying for things for me," you protested. "I'll use my own credit card while you're away. I'll have a job!"

"No," he said, shaking his head and holding up his phone. "When I'm gone, you'll be one hundred percent responsible for Noah. I'm adding you as a temporary guardian for him. I'm paying for an order of protection for you. I'm paying for everything. You have thirty four seconds left to pick a card design, by the way."

You glanced at the screen and looked at the timer before meeting his eyes again. "I can use my own card, and you can pay me back later."

"Absolutely not. You're making my life easier. Just knowing that Noah is with you of all people serves a dual purpose. I know he'll be taken care of, and I know you won't be too lonely. Twelve seconds."

"But, Bradley-"

"Pick a card, or I'll leave Noah with Penny."

You glared at him and reached out to tap the purple credit card design with the gold crown on it.

"Now was that really so hard?" he asked with a satisfied smile.

"You're obnoxious." But you kissed his cheek, and then he followed you to the bathroom for a shower, reminding you that he put five hundred dollars cash behind the TV.

----------------------------

Your graduation was coming up on Friday night, and you'd been so busy all week, Bradley had barely seen you. You told him both of your interviews had gone well when you got home on Tuesday, but you hadn't shared much more beyond that. He got the sense that you were hoping for one or two job offers, but you didn't want to jinx anything. So he just asked you a few open ended questions as you snuggled on the couch with him.

Then you told him he and Noah would have to eat leftovers for dinner on Wednesday, because you were going out with some people you knew from school.

"Will Greyson be there?" he asked immediately, wrapping his hands around your waist. "Or those other fraternity idiots who deserve to feel my fists connect with their faces?"

You placed open mouthed kisses along his scarred neck in response before promising it was only a few girls going out together. "Just some ladies who will drool on themselves if I mention how sexy you are. But I appreciate your enthusiasm, Daddy."

"You want me to drop you off and pick you up? Just in case? And that way you can drink as much as you want?" He knew he sounded clingy. He��felt fucking clingy. It must be the result of his upcoming deployment weighing so heavily on his mind, but he didn't really care. He wanted you with him all the damn time, and he wanted you to know it.

You responded by raking your fingers through his hair and sucking on his neck. "You're such a Daddy," you whined, dragging your lips along his skin and kissing his stubbled jaw. "You always want to take care of me, but I always want to take care of you."

And a minute later, you were sucking his dick like only you could. Soft, innocent eyes that just made him harder, and long lashes that brushed your cheeks when you gagged on him. After he came for you, he watched you swallow him down and then lay with your cheek on his bare thigh with your fingers softly brushing along his trimmed hair up to his abs.

"You take care of me," he whispered after a few silent beats, earning him a smirk as your lips grazed his soft cock. "And not just like that. You make my house feel warm. You adore my kid." As he ran his knuckles softly along your cheek, he watched your eyes flutter closed. "I've never loved someone like this before."

"You haven't?" you asked softly as your warm breath teased his thigh.

"No," he promised. "Nothing even close to this, Princess."

So when Wednesday night came, and you went out, Bradley put Noah to bed after he whined about how he missed you. Then he settled on the couch alone and put a movie on. When the movie ended, and you still weren't back, he thought about texting you. Had he misunderstood about you going back to your forgotten rental for the night or something? The idea made him uncomfortable. You didn't belong there any longer.

Bradley responded to some texts from Nat so his phone would already be in his hand if you tried to contact him. He was just deleting some old emails when he heard your car pull into the driveway, and then your key was in the door.

"Hi," you whispered, rushing inside and gently closing the door before heading his way in your pretty dress. You were smiling as you climbed right on top of him where he was stretched out on the couch.

"Hi," he replied before your lips met his. "Did you have fun?"

You grinned and braced your hands on the arm of the couch behind his head. "Yes, but I missed you. And I logged in to check my grades when they posted at six o'clock."

He let his hands rest on your back. "And? How did you do?"

"I had a 4.0 this semester, probably because you're the best study partner, Daddy."

He smiled up at you. "Or maybe you got perfect grades, because you're perfect. And Noah and I will be in the front row at your graduation on Friday. Can't wait to watch my perfect girlfriend in action."

"Are you really going to sit in the front row?" you asked with a kiss to his cheek.

"Yeah. I'll push my way up there. I'll knock over elderly people if I have to."

"Oh," you said with a snicker, "so you'll knock over people your own age for a better seat?"

Bradley smacked your ass while you laughed, and he hauled you to bed.

-----------------------------

You wanted to tell Bradley your good news in person, but you didn't get a chance to see him before your commencement ceremony started. Where you were standing off to the side backstage, you could see the front row starting to fill up. When you saw someone's elderly grandmother hustling along with a walker, you had to bite back your laughter. Because a moment later, Bradley came rushing for one of the only remaining empty seats left up front with Noah in his arms.

As soon as they were settled in, you pulled out your phone and texted him.

Nice work. You didn't even have to trip that old lady to get a seat.

You watched him take his phone out of his pocket and smile as he entered his passcode. Then his shoulders shook with laughter as he eyed the woman and her walker where she sat right next to him. And then he started to look around the room, clearly trying to figure out where you were, but it was time for you to collect your diploma.

Bradley Bradshaw: Nothing is going to keep us from watching our Princess. Noah is very excited.

You were excited, too. For so many reasons. When your name was called, and you walked across the stage to collect your diploma, you could hear Bradley's voice over the rest of the crowd in the auditorium. As you turned back toward your seat, you blew them a kiss. And you barely heard a word of the speeches, because you couldn't keep your eyes off them.

And then it was all over, and you were no longer a student. Anxious to get to them so you could get home and talk to Bradley, you nearly tripped over the old lady's walker yourself. "Careful," Bradley said, laughing harder than you thought was necessary as he caught you. "Or you'll be the one who needs a walker."

You ignored him and kissed Noah's chubby cheek as he hugged you around your neck. He tried to say congratulations a few times, but then he just went back to hugging you instead.

"I love you, sweet Noah. And I love you too, Daddy."

"Ready?" Bradley asked, taking Noah from your arms and leading the way out to the parking lot with his hand resting on your back.

You followed them in your car, and when you pulled into the driveway, Bradley was scooping Noah out of his carseat. "He's out," he muttered as you opened the front door for them.

You gasped. The house smelled like fresh flowers and something sweet. When you turned on the light, there were flowers everywhere. Noah had made a banner out of construction paper that was all taped together. And when you went into the kitchen, you found champagne, a stack of adult coloring books, and a small cake decorated with Skittles. It took Bradley a minute to get Noah in his bed, but when he strolled into the kitchen still wearing his sexy suit, you threw yourself at him.

"Let's open the champagne," he muttered next to your ear. "And then we can eat some Skittles cake. And you can take me to bed and do whatever you want with me."

You giggled as he backed you up to the counter. "I have more good news."

It wasn't lost on you the way Bradley's lips parted in silence before his eyes dipped down to your belly. "Do you?"

You nodded and bit your lip. Maybe what you had to say wasn't actually that exciting at all, but you blurted out, "I got two job offers."

"Princess!" Bradley gasped, gathering you up into his arms. "Of course you did, Baby. Everyone wants a piece of you." He set you down on the counter and kissed you about a thousand times. He told you he was proud of you. He told you he would help you make a decision by next week. And then he fed you some Skittles cake, but you insisted on splitting it with him 50/50.

----------------------------

Daddy will be gone soon. I have a lot of asks about dirty/sweet/loving/rough goodbye sex with Daddy and Princess. So stay tuned for that. Hope you enjoy your fic, @beyondthesefourwalls And thank you @mak-32 !

PART 29

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