Chat Noir's legs dangled off the rooftop as he stared starry-eyed at the pink and orange Parisian skyline. He’d watched the sunset hundreds of times, but tonight’s was more beautiful than ever before. He’d been spending more and more time with Kagami as Adrien. There were fewer patrols due to Hawkmoth’s mysterious absence. The Mayor removed Chloe from classes a few days ago, so the atmosphere in class had even been more pleasant. For the first time - ever, really - he was happy as Adrien Agreste and Chat Noir.
Light footsteps landed on the rooftop beside him; he didn’t need to look up to know that it was Ladybug. Even though he was growing closer to Kagami, he was still glad to see her. He still recognized her footsteps. He just wasn’t overwhelmed by his emotions anymore.
“Ladybug!” Chat called out without looking away from the view. “How did your patrol go?”
There was a pause, a few seconds of silence. Chat looked up at Ladybug and saw she was smiling, but it looked forced; he couldn’t quite place the expression.
“Ladybug?”
“Chat Noir.”
Chat stood up, alarmed. Since when did she call him “Chat Noir?”
“What’s wrong -”
“Chat. I need to talk to you.”
Her solemn, almost melancholy tone made his adrenaline shoot up. It was darker now, the sun had almost completely set, and it made her tense smiled that much more ominous.
He swallowed, grateful she couldn't hear his heartbeat quicken as he put on a fake smile.
“Yeah, of course, Ladybug. What’s going on?”
“I…” Ladybug started, suddenly taking great interest in the gravel between them. She took a deep breath, eyes not leaving the ground. “You were right,” she finally said, chuckling dryly. “I was jealous of Ryuuko.”
Chat blinked, surprised. Was she talking about when the three of them took out Loveater? That was almost a week ago; he honestly forgot he’d said that.
“What?”
“I was jealous of her,” she repeated. “I - the boy I …” she trailed off, still not meeting Chat’s eyes.
Chat stepped towards her in concern. He wasn't sure if he'd meant to hug her or make her look at him, but he’d never seen her so unsettled. It wasn't like Ladybug to hesitate like this.
“The boy I was in love with, he’s dating her. And the same day, you’re flirting with her and I just - I was jealous that she’d had both him and you.” Ladybug finally looked up at him, saying something like Kagami was her friend, but he wasn’t listening anymore. The boy I was in love with is dating Kagami.
He was dating Kagami.
“Ladybug wait,” Chat exclaimed, interrupting her mid-sentence. “The boy - was his name A-”
“I have a boyfriend.”
Ladybug held his gaze then, holding eye contact. He was sure that he looked like he was hit by a truck because that was definitely how he felt.
“What -”
“Yeah, uh, a few days ago I just… couldn’t deal with this anymore. You trying to make me jealous, fighting Hawkmoth and Mayura, protecting Paris, my civilian responsibilities, and I broke down. And he was there,” Ladybug continued, a genuine smile on her face.
“He was there for me,” she repeated. “Not Ladybug, not Lady Noire, me. The civilian me. He doesn’t have any interest in Ladybug at all, actually,” she added with a laugh. “You aren’t even interested in me.”
A flash of anger and hurt surged through Chat. How dare she say that when he’s loved her since the day they met?
“You don’t know that, Ladybug, if you would have just told me who you were -”
“You love Ladybug,” she responded, raising her voice higher than his. She didn’t yell, and it made him a little ashamed he’d raised his voice first. “You would have only been with me because you knew the civilian me was Ladybug. I deserve better than that, Chat Noir. I want to be with someone I can be myself with because they want me, not Ladybug.”
That’s not fair, a small voice in his head piped up.
“I would have loved whoever you were under the mask, Ladybug. No matter what. I loved you because you’re the one under the mask, not because you’re Ladybug. If I’d met you without the mask, I would have loved you, I know I would.”
At that, she shook her head and smiled at him sadly.
“I know you wouldn’t choose me over Ladybug, Chat Noir. You had the chance to, and you didn’t. And it’s fine, good even!” she added, sadness disappearing. “We’re both moving on with our lives now."
She was smiling ever so sweetly as if she hadn't just turned his world upside down. He couldn't even think of the words to begin to describe how he was feeling. Something ominous threatened to push its way out, but he clenched his teeth and said nothing.
"You don’t have to call me ‘my Lady’ anymore, Chat Noir. I hope we can still protect Paris together, as partners. You’re still my friend, and I will always have your back.”
He should be happy to hear this, he should smile and say he’s glad, and of course, they’re still partners, and then he should go home and text Kagami and yet -
If she was in love with the boy dating Kagami then -
“Why are you only telling me this now, Ladybug? If you had said something sooner we - we wouldn’t have to have this talk.”
Then she sighed, and she sounded so tired.
"I... We're not dating... yet," she added sharply when Chat's head shot up. "I wanted to clear this up with you first. You're someone I care about a lot Chat, even if we're not together."
She looked at him, waiting for him to respond or agree with her, but he couldn't. His shoulders tensed and his jaw clenched and he remained silent.
Ladybug's shoulders dropped as she continued talking.
“You could be right. But my duty as Ladybug is to protect this city from Hawkmoth and retrieve the missing Miraculouses. I’m hoping that your sense of duty will be what fuels you from now on as well.”
She watched him expectantly again, waiting for a response. He knew what he should be saying, knew what she wanted him to say, but he didn’t trust what would come out of his mouth.
"Yeah," he mumbled roughly. "Me too."
He could feel resentment creeping up and he knew that Ladybug did not deserve it. Before he knew it, he was walking back to his perch on the edge of the roof.
With a sigh, he heard her footsteps again and knew she’d left.
The sun had completely set a while ago and it was cold and dark. The deep blue Parisian skyline was nowhere near as inviting as it was ten minutes ago.
With a sigh, he stood up and made his way home. It was late and for the first time in days, he had to pretend everything was fine.
@tallmansions tagged me to fill out this WIP meme sooooo here I go
Post the names of all the files in your WIP folder, regardless of how non-descriptive or ridiculous. Send me an ask with the title that most intrigues you, or interests you and I’ll post a little snippet of it or tell you something about it!!
1) Hot Mess AU - Where all my Hawkes meet their LIs through various … non ideal situations. All stories are connected, though there isn’t much mention of the other Hawkes in their individual story.
- HAnders - (DamienAmellxAnders)
- Hawkabela - (AmberHawkexIsabela)
- FenHawke - (AlexisHawkexFenris)
2) Denerim Uni AU -(MaharielxZevran)
3) Fake Dating AU - linked to the Uni AU - (SuranaxSten)
4) Gay High School AU - linked with the Uni AU (TabrisxLeliana)
5) Tribunal AU - (MaharielxZevran)
6) Ezekiel Amell - Origins story about Ezekiel, which would include - Minerva Surana, Damien Hawke, and a whole lot of different mini stories about them all. Would be very long. (AmellxMorrigan)
7) Cinderbela - Oneshot. (AmberHawkexIsabela)a8) Soulmates - Original story!
I’ll tag @sane-cat-lady and …. anyone else who’d like to do this
Anders checked the time. 5:03am. Time to check on his newest patient. His ID said Damien Amell, and he was rushed in with alcohol poisoning. Anders pumped his stomach and got him an IV and, after some pain killers, went to sleep. Anders hadn’t had much time to talk to him, but on a Wednesday night, there weren’t that many people who needed emergency care.
Anders picked up the clipboard on the end of Damien’s bed and examined his sleeping patient. Damien’s face scrunched and he groaned. He blinked, and his eyes opened and - wow. Grey eyes. Anders had never met anyone with grey eyes; the few born with it typically develop some pigment as a toddler.
Anders was snapped from his train of thought when Damien started coughing. Anders looked over and Damien was sitting upright, hand at his throat.
“Side effect of the stomach pumping, unfortunately,” Anders explained. “It’s going to be a little hard for you to talk for a while.”
“Heh, no kidding,” Damien said. His voice was raspy and hoarse, and it probably hurt to even say that, but he still had a weak smile.
“How are you feeling? One word answers are fine,” Anders added quickly.
“Hm. Better than yesterday,” Damien croaked. “You sure did look surprised when you saw me wake up, doc. Was I that bad?”
“No - And you can call me Anders. You’re just awake earlier than I expected you’d be.”
Damien’s face broke out in a grin.
“Heh, thanks. This isn’t my first rodeo, you know.” Then he coughed.
At that, Anders chuckled. His patient was resilient, he’ll give him that much.
"So, was last night a special occasion?” Anders asked.
Damien’s head tilted in confusion. Anders’s brows furrowed. Maybe he should rephrase the question?
“You know… the binge drinking?” Anders motioned to the hospital bed Damien was laying in.
Damien looked down at the bed and then realization struck.
“Oh! Hah, no, just a regular Wednesday night,” Damien answered with a grin. “What, are you new here?”
Anders was completely baffled. How was he the one getting such a I-can’t-believe-you-didn’t-know-this look from someone binge drinking on a Wednesday night?
Anders checked the time. 5:03am. Time to check on his newest patient. His ID said Damien Amell, and he was rushed in with alcohol poisoning. Anders pumped his stomach and got him an IV and, after some pain killers, went to sleep. Anders hadn't had much time to talk to him, but on a Wednesday night, there weren't that many people who needed emergency care.
Anders picked up the clipboard on the end of Damien's bed and examined his sleeping patient. Damien's face scrunched and he groaned. He blinked, and his eyes opened and - wow. Grey eyes. Anders had never met anyone with grey eyes; the few born with it typically develop some pigment as a toddler.
Anders was snapped from his train of thought when Damien started coughing. Anders looked over and Damien was sitting upright, hand at his throat.
"Side effect of the stomach pumping, unfortunately," Anders explained. "It's going to be a little hard for you to talk for a while."
"Heh, no kidding," Damien said. His voice was raspy and hoarse, and it probably hurt to even say that, but he still had a weak smile.
"How are you feeling? One word answers are fine," Anders added quickly.
"Hm. Better than yesterday," Damien croaked. "You sure did look surprised when you saw me wake up, doc. Was I that bad?"
"No - And you can call me Anders. You’re just awake earlier than I expected you’d be."
Damien’s face broke out in a grin.
"Heh, thanks. This isn’t my first rodeo, you know.” Then he coughed.
At that, Anders chuckled. His patient was resilient, he’ll give him that much.
"So, was last night a special occasion?" Anders asked.
Damien's head tilted in confusion. Anders's brows furrowed. Maybe he should rephrase the question?
"You know... the binge drinking?" Anders motioned to the hospital bed Damien was laying in.
Damien looked down at the bed and then realization struck.
"Oh! Hah, no, just a regular Wednesday night," Damien answered with a grin. "What, are you new here?"
Anders was completely baffled. How was he the one getting such a I-can't-believe-you-didn't-know-this look from someone binge drinking on a Wednesday night?
"I, uh ... I just transferred here last week from Fereldan. So yeah, I guess you can say I'm new."
Damien's face broke out in a grin. "Welcome to Kirkwall! You seem like a handsome, capable doctor. Why do you work at the smallest hospital in Low Town?"
Anders blinked. Was his patient ... hitting on him?
Damien's toothy grin really made Anders noticed his well-defined cheekbones, and his white teeth really shone next to his dark skin. Huh.
"Oh you know, the old story of med school debts, constant failure, and avoiding the problem. Kirkwall's Lowtown seemed a good place to start over."
Damien's expression darkened as he nodded solemnly. Like he understood where Anders was coming from.
"Where did you go to medical school?"
"Oh! Uh, I didn't. My older brother - he just graduated a few years ago."
"Does he work here?" Anders hadn't seen anyone who looked anything like Damien, but it's possible they just worked opposite shifts.
"Oh, no, he's one of those fancy doctors at that Amell Hospital in High Town," Damien responded casually. But also like he was surprised Anders didn't know that, either. "He's - oh, he's here."
Anders turned around and saw a tall man with shoulder length dreads making a beeline straight towards them. And he was tall. 6'4'' maybe? He probably towered over everyone. Broad shouldered, muscular - he was a doctor? That's insane -
Damien grunted as he threw his legs over the edge of his bed.
"Hey, you shouldn't be moving yet -"
"Damien!"
The man reached them and man, was he tall. And big. And looked incredibly haggard. Bags under his eyes, premature wrinkles. When was the last time this man slept?
The tired looking man pushed up the sleeves of his button up shirt as he pushed past Anders to examine his brother.
"Hey Zeke," Damien said as 'Zeke' turned his face back and forth.
"What's your temperature?," he asked, forgoing a greeting.
"Haven't had the chance to ask." Damien looked a little amused.
"Blood pressure? Last night's blood-alcohol content?"
"I'm pretty sure a doctor would know better than I would. Just ask Anders."
"Damien, please. At least call him 'Doctor'," 'Zeke' said, exasperated.
"Actually, I'm an EMT," Anders interrupted, finally finding his voice.
At that Zeke finally turned to him. It just dawned on him that he probably didn't even see him when he rushed to his brother. He looked him up and down, as if he was suddenly judging him.
"Hello Zeke," Anders began nervously. Damien's eyebrows raised. "I'm Anders. He doesn't have to call me 'doctor'," he added, hand stretched out. "Just my top notch, friendly bedside manner."
"He doesn't have to call you 'doctor'," Zeke agreed, rather coldly. "You aren't one. And it's Ezekiel."
Ouch. Anders lowered his hand.
"Hey, Zeke take it easy - " Damien hopped off the bed - well, less of a hop and more of a plop. He was almost as tall as his brother! And they both were taller than he was. Anders was already almost 6’ -
"We're leaving, Damien.”
As Ezekiel strided past Anders, Anders thought of saying a goodbye - but then thought better of it when he caught a glimpse of Ezekiel’s glower. Damien took two steps after Ezekiel and stopped in front of Anders.
“Yeah … He doesn’t really like it when people call him ‘Zeke’. Sibling privilege, unfair, I know,” Damien mused, patting Anders’s shoulder. This close, Anders could see small, silver lines on his face, marking old scars.
Then Damien winked. “Don’t worry, Anders, you’ll be seeing plenty of me. So you’ll be able to get to know Ezekiel better too! Works out for everyone.”
“Hah. Not too often, I hope?” Anders asked. He wouldn’t mind seeing those grey eyes outside the hospital.
Damien gasped, rather dramatically, and gripped his chest. “Anders! Don’t tell me you’re already tired of me!”
Anders laughed, but before he could get a response out, Ezekiel called for his brother from down the hallway. Damien said his goodbyes and followed his brother out of the hospital. The pair got stares from nurses, doctors, patients - literally everyone they passed on the way out. Ezekiel was cold, but he very clearly dropped everything as soon as he’d heard about his brother. And his brother, Damien … obviously a wild card. Anders felt like Damien walked away knowing more about him than the other way around. But, as extreme as he seemed, he still felt warm and friendly. What an interesting pair.
*~*~
A few hours later, Anders was finishing up his paperwork for the day in the hospital lab. He usually tried to stay out of the lab, but it was usually quieter there than anywhere else. And only doctors had offices. His eyes glanced over his patient list and his eyes caught the name Damien Amell. Why did ‘Amell’ sound so familiar?
“Hey, Bethany,” Anders started. Bethany Hawke was a new intern, fresh out of med school, aspiring to be a doctor. Apparently, she’d shown promise, as Chief of Medicine Orsino had pointed her out to Anders several times since he’s been at the hospital. Anders had to admit, Bethany was quick witted, completed all of her paperwork on time, and had excellent bedside manners. He hadn’t heard a single negative thing about her, and she’d been at this hospital for a few months now.
“Yeah, Anders?” Bethany’s voice rang up from the other side of the desk, behind a stack of papers. The lab wasn’t huge; relatively small for the amount of work they had to get done there, but they had as much equipment as they could fit there. Bethany learned to work around it all pretty quickly, and became pretty adept at stacking what she needed very high.
“What do you know about the ‘Amell’ family?”
“Amell?” She popped her head out from behind the stack and looked over at him. Her dark brown curls bounced as she got up and walked over to him.
“They’re my cousins,” she stated plainly.
“What?” Anders scanned her hazel eyes, trying to see if she was bluffing - but no, people as good as Bethany didn’t bluff.
“Yeah, my mom’s sister and her kids. Ezekiel, Damien, and Claire. Ooh, who did you meet?” She peeked over his shoulder at his paperwork.
“Damien Amell,” Anders answered for her. “And Ezekiel came to pick him up.”
“Oh you met Damien and Zeke!” Bethany exclaimed. Apparently, ‘Zeke’ was okay for siblings and cousins. Anders wondered if Damien knew. “Yeah, Damien is here a lot. It’s pretty much the only way to get Zeke to leave the hospital.”
“What hospital? Damien told me he was a doctor, but I don’t remember which one.”
“Are you kidding?” Bethany looked him up and down, an incredulous tone in her voice. Why did everyone in this family do that to him? “Ezekiel is the chief physician at the Amell Hospital. It’s the biggest and oldest hospital in Kirkwall.”
Now that was something Anders should have known. Maker, the Amell Hospital was huge. And cutthroat. Anders would be lucky to even get an interview. And yet, he did not envy Ezekiel. Even being born into the family, maybe even especially, getting the Chief of Medicine position was not going to be easy. And he still dropped everything to pick up his brother on the other side of town?
“That’s crazy,” Anders started, barely able to wrap his head around this new information. “Why is Damien so … out of control if he’s the son of the Revka Amell? How is he in and out of a rival hospital on a regular basis? Why is Ezekiel risking his position at the most prestigious hospital in the Free Marches to pick up his brother from a hospital? And why aren’t you working at your cousin’s hospital?”
Bethany laughed, her brown skin wrinkling at her eyes. Even her laugh was light and airy.
“Well, Damien has already established with Auntie Rev that he’s not going to be a doctor, and she’s already publicly disowned him. And I would barely call this place a ‘rival hospital.’ Ezekiel spends almost every day of the week in the hospital, doing Auntie Rev’s bidding so he can take over the hospital. So he can spare a day or two to spend with family. And me, I just like helping people. Amell Hospital doctors are a little too … ‘out for themselves’ for me. Except for Zeke, of course,” she added.
That gave Anders pause. That family was so complex, with so many different pieces to the puzzle. Oh, Maker. What had Anders learned?
“Why all the questions, hm? Interested in one of them?” Bethany teased. And she didn’t even sound malicious.
“Huh?” The question caught him off guard. Interested? In whom, exactly?
“Honestly, nearly everyone here wants to get Zeke, somehow.” Bethany seemed to shudder at the thought. “Don’t feel bad about it, but you’d have a long line of doctors and nurses to get through to get to him.” Another laugh.
“No, I’m not interested in Ezekiel, I was just - curious. There’s so much more going on than I’d thought.”
None of that was a lie, really. He just didn’t feel like it was the whole truth for some reason. Not that it mattered; the work he had was more important that this dysfunctional family.
“That’s fair. They are a bit of a mess.” She grinned a little sheepishly. “Well, I’m gonna finish my lab work, unless you had more questions about my cousins?”
Anders chuckled. “No, no. Sorry for taking up so much of your time.”
“No worries!”
She returned to her side of the desk and disappeared behind the stack of papers. He decided to return to his paperwork, as well. Damien Amell. Huh. Well, he’d rather not gonna worry about it right now. If he runs into him again, he’ll consider giving the Amells a second thought.
*~*~
Anders had about a week of normal, adrenaline rushing EMT work before Damien showed up again.
Over the weekend, the work picked up of course; bar fights, car accidents, self-repair mishaps. Nothing out of the ordinary for Kirkwall. He’d spent a few days recuperating at home with his new kitten, Ser-Pounce-A-Lot, and tending to the herb garden he’d set up in his kitchen. He was renting a small apartment in Lowtown, the most reasonable space he could think of given his workplace and his salary, and there wasn’t much room for greenery. However, modern inventions had created things like hanging pot racks and window sills, so Anders made do with what he had.
Then, Thursday night around 7:50pm, Anders was paged to go down to the ER to patch up a street market brawl patient. Apparently, the patient was jumped by four other men, all of whom were in surgery or getting stitches, but they just needed a few wounds sewed up. In hindsight, Anders felt like he really shouldn’t have been as surprised as he was to see Damien in the hospital bed. And to see that he was chatting with an elven nurse he seemed to know really well.
“You really didn’t need to involve yourself, you know,” she was saying as she wiped the blood off his face.
Damien winced. “They were giving Isabela a hard time! And they were drunk at like, 5 in the afternoon!”
The nurse - Anders recognized her as Velanna Ilshae - shook her head. “It was seven in the evening -” Damien protested. “And Isabela can handle herself. You and Carver got too involved.”
Damien looked fake appalled. “And what kind of gentleman would I be if I allowed a lady to be verbally accosted on my watch?”
Velanna stared at him for a few seconds and then smacked his nose.
“Hey!” Damien rubbed his nose and turned to see Anders at his bed. “Anders!” Damien grinned at him, then winced - Anders could tell that probably wasn’t the best idea. There were cuts on his cheeks, near his jawline - likely from multiple rings - and bruises up and down his arms. Whoever he’d fought against had to have been shorter than him. But realistically, who wasn’t? Anders wouldn’t be surprised if he had a fractured rib, honestly.
“Hello again, Damien.” Anders couldn’t help but smile just a little.
“Anders, please talk to Nurse Ilshae about her bedside manners. She just assaulted a bedridden patient!”
Velanna and Anders made eye contact and her expression completely gave off the idea that she would not care about what he had to say about that. Better to leave it alone.
“I can take it from here, Velanna,” he said instead.
She nodded and put the gauze down. Damien waved goodbye as she went to check on another patient.
“So is this a typical Thursday night?” Anders asked as he settled in Velanna’s spot. Those cuts were going to need cleaning and stitches.
“Hah!” Damien laughed, quite cheerfully actually, and then winced again. “Ow! Uh, no. While I do like to keep things interesting, this was more of a night out with friends after work.”
“That’s not very reassuring.” Anders finished cleaning Damien’s face and picked up the butterfly stitches.
Ander would have to get up close and personal to fix up Damien’s face. Time to put that top notch bedside manner to work.
“So, I met your cousin Bethany last week. Well, I’d met her before but I didn’t know she was your cousin. Your families are pretty well established here.”
Damien nodded instead of responding. He was either not good with needles or he knew the routine when someone is sticking his face back together. Probably both.
As Anders finished, he saw Damien’s hand reach up towards his face. Anders suddenly understood how Velanna got comfortable with smacking him.
“Don’t touch.”
Damien’s hand lowered quickly and Anders moved to stitch up the other side.
“But, you wouldn’t know how well established you and Bethany are just by looking at you. You’re both incredibly humble.”
Damien stifled a chuckle. Anders finished the other cheek and wiped the remaining blood off his patients face.
“So, where do you work?”
“The Bone Pit Construction Company,” Damien responded with a grin.
“The - The old mining facility?”
“Hah, yeah, crazy name right? Apparently, it decided to go into construction,” Damien explained. “The owner just didn’t feel like changing the name, I guess?”
“Huh. Well, I’m not too confident about you working in a construction zone with your injuries. I can write you a doctor’s note to get out of work for a few days.”
Damien shook his head. “No, don’t worry about it. I own the place, so I pretty much just bark orders.”
“Aren’t you a little young to own a construction company?”
Anders knew from his ID that he was only 24. Two years younger than Anders and yet so much taller.
“You’re telling me. But, you do a few favors for the owner, clean up some messes, uncover a few murder mysteries, and suddenly they just want nothing to do with the place. So it’s mine now, I guess.” Damien shrugged, then grabbed his side.
That didn’t sound right to Anders, but he didn’t know enough business ownership laws to argue.
“Sure. Alright take a deep breath for me.”
Anders put his stethoscope on and listened to Damien’s breathing. Nothing sounded out of the ordinary, though his heart rate was a little faster than normal.
“Are you feeling alright?” Anders asked.
“Yeah? I mean, relatively speaking. Could be better, could be worse.”
Damien sounded pretty calm.
“It’s just, your heartbeat is a little fast.”
“Oh! Uh, really? That’s, uh, strange, I feel fine. Hey, why were you using a needle earlier? You’re an EMT right? I thought they couldn’t do anything that breaks the skin.”
Was he changing the subject? Anders really didn’t know him well enough to tell if this was him being embarrassed or nervous or if he was just like that.
“Don’t tell me I make you nervous, Damien,” Anders teased. “This is a small hospital and since all of our doctors are taking care of their patients or the men you beat up, I can bend the rules a little.”
“Hm, you should have seen Carver,” Damien said. “He got away without a scratch. He’s Bethany’s twin, by the way.” Anders’s brows shot up. “Yeah, I figured you didn’t know.” Damien grinned yet again.
“Are there any other family members I should know about?” Anders couldn’t keep the exasperation out of his voice, but Maker, did Damien have a lot of relatives.
Damien laughed heartily - and then groaned in pain. Yeah, probably a bruised rib. “Uh, let’s see - Zeke, me, and Claire. And Bethany and Carver have two older sisters, Amber and Alexis. But uh, yeah, that’s it, I’m pretty sure. Do you not have siblings?”
Anders was taken aback by the question. It wasn’t out of line or anything, but Damien’s voice suddenly carried interest and concern. It was unexpected.
“No, I’m, uh, an only child. My parents passed away about a year ago. It’s actually why I was gone for a while.”
“Oh - And I kept making jokes. Sorry - well, sorry for your loss.”
Damien’s voice dropped a little and he looked so concerned and why was Anders even telling him this?
“Don’t worry about it. We weren’t that close. They weren’t too fond of me after I dropped out of med school.”
There was also the whole, preferred-sleeping-with-men thing, but Anders didn’t feel compelled to share that with this near stranger. But then Damien nodded like he understood.
“Yeah that’ll make someone’s parents disown them if they aren’t too careful.”
“Speaking from experience?” Anders asked.
“No, not uh, mine. Zeke went through a lot with Revka.”
“Revka.” Not “mom.”
“Well, I do not envy Ezekiel’s position.” Anders picked up Damien’s patient clipboard and started writing. “You seem fine, other than needing stitches, and your rib is likely just bruised. Nothing’s been punctured or broken, but you should still get some anti-inflammatory medication and keep your side iced for a few days. You should be fine. Also, here’s a doctor’s note anyway,” Anders added, handing him the paper. “You know, just in case you’d like to take a few days from your highly exciting lifestyle.”
“So is your brother picking you up? I figured he’d show by now.”
If Anders didn’t know any better, he would have sworn Damien’s face fell for the briefest moment.
“Who knows. Maybe they told him it was just a fist fight and I wasn’t dying this time,” he responded casually.
“That would make sense -”
“Nevermind, there he is.”
Damien motioned behind Anders and there was Ezekiel, striding down the hallway to them. Again, Ezekiel pushed past Anders to get to Damien. Anders was convinced he was invisible or something.
“Hey, Zeke.” Damien wore a sheepish grin. “What took so long? We were scared you’d forgotten about me.”
Ezekiel frowned but didn’t dignify that with a response.
“Are you alright?” The older brother was eyeing the stitches on his brother’s cheeks. Maker, Anders didn’t want to know what he’d say if Ezekiel learned he did it and not a certified doctor.
“Yeah I’m fine. Carver is too,” Damien added.
Ezekiel’s teeth clenched. “Carver was with you? Is he here - Is he hurt?”
“No, no, bro, relax. Carver didn’t get a scratch on him. He dropped me off at the hospital and then took Isabela home.” Damien placed his hands on his brothers shoulders in an attempt to calm him down. It looked like that worked.
“Isabela was there too? What, did someone ‘verbally accost’ her again?”
Damien laughed and grabbed his side. “Aaah. Ow. Yeah. Those men are also here, if you were interested in knowing that.”
Ezekiel paused for a second. He seemed to be considering if he cared? Maybe? “I wasn’t. Who did your stitches?”
Damien pointed behind Ezekiel at Anders. “Anders the EMT.” Damien grinned.
Ezekiel turned and looked at Anders for the first time. Yeah, he was definitely invisible to this giant. Ezekiel looked almost the same as last week; bags under his eyes like he hadn’t had a good night’s rest in years, a few lines on his face, and - sunken cheeks? Was he getting enough to eat? The clothes were different, at least. White, purple, and grey plaid button up with black slacks.
“Anders.”
“Hello, Ezekiel.” Anders didn’t want to risk saying more than that after last week’s interaction.
Ezekiel and Damien exchanged a meaningful look and then Ezekiel sighed and turned back to Anders.
“The stitches look - good. Like they won’t get infected.”
Damien groaned loudly and Anders held back a laugh. He had to assume that was Ezekiel’s version of a compliment.
“Uh, thank you. I do my best with what we have. It’s not Amell quality resources, but we get by.” Anders smiled.
Ezekiel frowned and Damien grimaced and - Did Anders say something wrong?
“Right. We should get going, Damien.”
Ezekiel walked by Anders down the hallway.
Damien got off the bed with that same grimace and stood next to Anders.
“You weren’t wrong, but you shouldn’t have said it. Zeke’s actually convinced Revka to donate supplies to Kirkwall’s hospitals twice a year. So some of this stuff is Amell quality.”
Anders could have kicked himself. Of course that sounded bitter.
“Can you tell him -”
“You’re sorry you said something so hurtful in your ignorance and hope to make it up to him?”
Anders suppressed a frown. “The first bit is more accurate.”
“Heh, alright. I can pass that along. Take care, Anders.”
Damien patted Anders’s shoulder and caught up with his brother, saying something about grabbing dinner before going home.
Just like last time, heads turned as they made their way out the building. Anders was impressed, just like last time, but he was starting to understand why. Sure, Ezekiel was definitely a catch, but Damien had his own charms. He was quick witted and funny and could take a punch, apparently. Actually, a great deal of pain, as many times he’s been in the hospital.
Anders called a nurse to clean what was left of Damien’s blood and moved on to the next patient.
*~*~
Anders strode through the hallway to the break room as quickly as he could. Doctors and nurses flitted about, rushing from one room to another, administering flu shots and changing bandages. It was a Tuesday afternoon and there were a lot of people in the ER with flu symptoms. Some just had stab wounds (this was Lowtown) but more than the usual were sick. He’d already been working since 10am and it was already 3pm. And he was starving. If he could just make it to the break room he’d be in the clear -
“Anders!”
Maker’s balls.
Anders stopped and turned to see Velanna flagging him down.
“Hey, I need you to take over a patient in the clinic for me.”
“Why, Velanna?”
“Because it’s time for my shift to be over.” Velanna crossed her arms, daring him to challenge her.
“Velanna, I’ve been here since 10 and I haven’t eaten -”
“Anders, I’ve been here since last night and I was called in to help with the sudden wave of sick people and I had to cancel a date with a handsome man to stay here.”
Anders glared at her and her superior smirk and gave up. It wasn’t his first full shift without eating and probably wouldn’t be his last.
“Fine. Whatever.”
“Thank you so much, Anders,” Velanna said sarcastically. She patted his arm once as they passed each other. He groaned in response and headed to the clinic.
----
Anders grabbed the clipboard in front of the door and knocked. This patient was diagnosed with a bruised rib and needed a follow up, but they weren’t sick, at least. He heard a voice confirm his entry and opened the door.
“Hey Anders!”
Anders looked up at the cheerful voice and there was Damien, leaning back on his elbows in the bed. His red shirt was torn just above his bicep and was tucked into his black jeans. Damien sat up as Anders crossed the room to him.
“Of course it’s you.” Anders sighed.
“Oh - yeah, sorry, it’s just me,” Damien responded despondently. “Didn’t really mean to bug you again -”
“No, no. No. Sorry Damien,” Anders cut him off. “I’m glad to see you - especially since it’s not in the ER.”
“Yeah, just a follow up, doc.” Damien seemed to be proud of that.
“I’m just really tired and starving and Velanna fed me some story about having to cancel a date with some guy and I just realized it was all a ploy to get me here -”
“She told you she cancelled a date with a guy?” Damien asked, incredulous. “She has a girlfriend, Anders. They hang out with Bethany and Claire sometimes. I’ve even seen them go on double dates with Carver and Merrill. Her name is Sigrun, I think?”
Anders pinched the bridge of nose in frustration. Velanna lied to get him in room with Damien. Why?
“Right. Of course. Just to mess with me I’m sure.”
“No! No, that’s not why - uh, look Anders I don’t wanna impose but -”
“Yes, right, your ribcage. Let me check you out.” Anders approached Damien and poked Damien’s ribcage and he jumped a little, but no groaning, no wincing.
“Your ribs are okay?”
Damien nodded and Anders examined his face - thin, dark lines replaced the red ones from a week ago. Damien’s arms weren’t bruised anymore either.
“You’re all healed up. This is literally the first time I’ve seen you uninjured. Why are you here then?”
“Right, yeah, hang on.”
Anders took a step back as Damien got off the bed and picked up a bag from the floor. He pulled out a small container of pasta, a smaller container filled with - maybe meat? - and a third full of red sauce.
Damien couldn’t be doing what Anders thought he was doing…. Could he?
“I don’t want you to feel like this is a bribe, or anything - I just made dinner last night and I figured you would need something to eat or whatever. I wanted to give this to you whether or not you said yes - Also I wasn’t sure if you ate meat? And I didn’t want to assume, so there’s vegetarian red sauce and some chicken -”
Damien went on and on with increasing nervousness and Anders just couldn’t wrap his head around this. Damien asked Velanna to get Anders into the clinic so Damien could bring him food and - what else?
“Damien, Damien,” Anders interrupted him. Damien stopped talking almost immediately. “What are you trying to say?”
“That, uh, this is your lunch that I made whether or not you say ‘yes.’ I mean - if you want it.” Damien extended the containers to Anders.
“Okay. Thank you, Damien,” Anders started, as he took the containers. “Say yes to what?”
“I was hoping that, maybe on your next off day or something, maybe you and I can … you know … go out to dinner? Or, like, lunch or a movie or something.”
Anders blinked. He went through all of this to ask him out?
“And if you don’t want to it’s fine! I’ll leave and you won’t have to see me again.” Damien paused. “Well, you will see me again, ‘cause I’m here a lot, but not like, in a ‘potentially romantic’ situation -”
“Damien. You’re rambling.” Anders couldn’t hold back a grin. When was the last time he was asked out on a date? Couldn’t even remember the last time he asked someone else. Maker, was he being courted? He suddenly felt nervous.
“Mhm.” Damien stopped talking again.
“I’d be glad to go on a date with you. One thing though; it’ll just be you and me, right? No family members?”
Damien’s eyebrows shot up in surprise and then he laughed. “Yeah, yeah. Just you and me. No family.”
“Then I’ll let you know when I’m free.” Anders smiled up at Damien and might have even thought he was blushing. Maker, he was too old to blush.
“That’s - Awesome! Great! Can’t wait!” Damien leaned in towards Anders, like he was going for a hug but then decided not to. “I’ll, uh see you around!”
Damien grabbed the bag and his jacket and bounded out the door. Anders looked over the stack of containers he’d gotten. How could anyone be so sweet?
And then he realized he didn’t have Damien’s number. So sweet and so impulsive. Anders supposed he could get Damien’s number from Velanna or Bethany -
Then he saw black writing on the largest container:
3. Who kisses the inside of their partner’s palm before reassuring them everything is going to be okay?
Zevran! Coming from a small nomadic tribe where EVERYBODY knew EVERYONE’S business, Allura isn’t big on PDA. Sometimes, tho, she might cradle his face in her hands or caress his cheek, and he’ll pull her palm to his lips for a kiss. She always draws her hand back (if they’re in public) but secretly likes it so does it again later anyway.
11. Who brings the blanket to wrap them both up in it?
If they’re already comfortable laying on each other, they’re not gonna get up and interrupt that for a blanket. No, they’d just be each other’s blankets. During winter though, Zevran will always complain that it’s cold, so Allura will bring a blanket with her before they cuddle or sit next to each other.
i just logged into AO3 on a comp for the first time in forever (at least 378 days, apparently) and saw a message telling me I’m a good writer and they enjoyed what Ive written so far ;;;; i may cry omg
you people… you people really do like your Shakarian fics. my actual story is like… 3 years old ……… and like …. i posted ch 3 at like 3 or 4am (5 or 6 hours ago) and in that time I’ve gotten a new comment, three new kudos, and like 20 new views. it probably isnt a lot but?? in 6 hours?? i feel like thats a lot.
man i sure do wish i would have made this mass effect fic now instead of three years ago. back then i didnt know so many things, one of the main things being that bioware canon sucks and you should definitely forget about the majority of it while writing fanfiction
i just logged into AO3 on a comp for the first time in forever (at least 378 days, apparently) and saw a message telling me I’m a good writer and they enjoyed what Ive written so far ;;;; i may cry omg
you people... you people really do like your Shakarian fics. my actual story is like... 3 years old ......... and like .... i posted ch 3 at like 3 or 4am (5 or 6 hours ago) and in that time I’ve gotten a new comment, three new kudos, and like 20 new views. it probably isnt a lot but?? in 6 hours?? i feel like thats a lot.
A quick JulianxApprentice fic based on that one post.
Moira sat on the hospital bed, waiting for their doctor. The room was small, with random medical posters on the wall. One described the most effective way to wash one’s hands, another had the human skeleton with the bones labelled. Typical doctor posters, they thought.
Their idle thoughts were interrupted by a knock on the door.
“Moira?” The voice on the other side of the door was low and somewhat slow, almost like a drawl. “May I come in?”
“Come on in,” they responded, eyes now watching the door.
A man in a lab coat walked in. His hair was short and red, with an asymmetrical cut. Was that a typical doctor-approved hairstyle? But even more interesting was his face - well, in an objective kind of way, they meant! Most doctors don’t walk around with an eye patch, or purple eyeshadow, or - maybe a rouge blush? Moira wasn’t sure if doctors were allowed to wear make up, but if they weren’t glad no one stopped this one -
“Moira? Did you hear me?”
His voice broke their trance. He must have been talking since he walked in, because he already had his gloves and stethoscope on. They did their best to hide their blush but couldn’t stop themselves from breaking eye contact and pushing their long black hair behind their ear.
“Sorry, I got - I wasn’t paying attention. What did you say?”
The doctor chuckled. “My name is Julian Devorak, and I will be your physician today. If you can take off your jacket, I can start the check up.”
“Oh! Of course.”
Moira mentally kicked themselves for spacing out so hard as they took off their jacket. They’re just here as Doctor Devorak’s patient, there’s no reason to get their hopes up. Moira held in a sigh as they turned back towards the doctor. Who seemed to be staring at them this time.
“Doctor?”
“Ah, right.” Julian approached them, and started the check up. They probably just imagined the slight flush of his cheeks when he turned towards them. Which was fair; they were getting their hopes up. So they just tried to not react when his breath brushed against their cheek as he examined their ear, or when they had to maintain eye contact when he flashed that light into their eyes, or when his fingers gripped their arm while he took their blood pressure. He’d tried to make idle small talk, but they couldn’t really focus on conversation while his green eye watched them so intently.
But then, he put the stethoscope in his ears and pulled up a stool to the bed.
“Alright, Moira, I’m going to take a deep breath.”
They nodded, not trusting their voice right now, and took a deep breath as the flat end of the stethoscope reached their chest. Almost immediately after, Julian’s eyebrows shot up.
“Hm,” he murmured absentmindedly as he continued to listen. The stethoscope dropped to their rib cage, then he stood up to move to their back and asked them to take another deep breath. Then he “hm”-ed again.
“What is it?” Moira couldn’t contain their curiosity any longer.
Julian sat back on the stool and took the stethoscope out of his ears.
“Nothing,” he began, watching them closely. “Your heartbeat is just … faster than average.”
Then he made eye contact and they blushed and he smirked. He smirked and they knew that he knew and he’s probably known since he walked in and they were staring at him and - god were they embarrassed.
“I’m uh - I’m sorry I don’t know what to do about it -”
Julian’s laughter cut them off. “Don’t worry about it, Moira. No harm done.”
He wrote something on a piece of paper and handed it to them.
“Your temperature was a little high, but other than that you seem healthy. Take this and get the medicine, and come back in a few days. I just want to completely sure you’re fine.”
He smiled - and for some reason Moira missed his smirk - and helped them off the bed. They thanked him as they left the room and could already hear their roommate Asra laughing about this.
-------------
Moira got home and told Asra about Doctor Devorak and they were right about exactly how hard he would laugh. He practically doubled over with laughter when they told him how Julian knew why their heart was beating so fast, and Moira was mortified but there was nothing they could do now.
“Oh Asra, shush! I’m embarrassed enough.” They were flushed out of annoyance but really, they walked into this by telling him.
Asra finally stopped laughing long enough to wipe the tears from his eyes and pat his friend’s shoulders.
“Moira, don’t be embarrassed. I think he likes you. You should flirt back.”
“What!,” Moira exclaimed, appalled. Julian was their doctor, how could they ever go back if they flirt with him and he doesn’t actually like them? For all they knew, every other patient he had flirted with him, and they didn’t want to add to that. It probably sucked.
“You should do it. I’m positive it will work out.” Asra’s eyes seemed to dance in amusement. He was truly enjoying this.
“Why are you so sure? Don’t you know that if he rejects me I could literally be bleeding out and I would not go back to that hospital.”
At that, Asra chuckled. “Trust me. He sounds just like…. An old friend I used to have. Just, next time you see him, flirt back.”
Asra winked, and seemed all knowing in that moment. That relieved Moira just a little. Maybe … they would flirt back.
-------------
A few days later, Moira was back at the hospital, under Julian’s gaze - under Julian’s care yet again. They’d taken the medicine from earlier and was now awaiting Julian’s opinion on their health.
Julian had the stethoscope out again. He didn’t need to take their heart rate again, did he? Was he teasing them? Did he really know?
“Huh, still a little fast,” he looked up at them, a ghost of a smirk on his stupid, smug, hot face. “Do I make you nervous?”
Moira looked away, unable to hold eye contact, when they remembered Asra urging them to flirt back. They took a deep breath.
“Maybe a little.” They turned back to Julian, whose eyebrows were raised just a little. “You do look … awfully good in your doctor’s coat. I can’t help but think how much better it would look… On my floor.”
Moira held eye contact then, and watched Julian’s eye widen, and his stupid, smug, hot face look not so smug as his face turned almost as red as his hair, and he stumbled back, kicking the stool behind him, and grabbing onto the counter for support. Huh. Maybe they were a little too flirty.
“Moira that’s - I mean well - I wouldn’t disagree but I - No, that’s not what I meant to say -”
As Julian stumbled over his words as hard as he stumbled over the stool, Moira couldn’t help but be a little amused. What was it about seeing this smug doctor so flustered and embarrassed over one pick up line? They weren’t sure, but really started to wonder what would actually look like in their bedroom.
Moira smiled then, slow and steady, as Julian gained his composure.
“Was there anything else, doctor?”
“N-no. You seem to be healthy. I’m glad the medicine worked. You’re, uh, free to go.”
He still seemed a little … well, distracted. Moira got off the bed and, very briefly, touched his arm as they passed. He head turned to their hand almost too quickly, and the red started to return to his cheeks.
“Thanks for the check up. See you next time, Doctor Devorak.”
Moira smirked as he mumbled a goodbye and left the room. They won’t tell Asra he was right tho; Moira wanted to keep the memory of the smug doctor’s blushing face to themselves.
Send me a # (questions for OCs) or a letter (questions for creators) and I’ll answer
QUESTIONS FOR YOUR OCs
What’s the maximum amount of time your character can sit still with nothing to do?
How easy is it for your character to laugh?
How do they put themselves to bed at night (reading, singing, thinking?)
How easy is it to earn their trust?
How easy is it to earn their mistrust?
Do they consider laws flexible, or immovable?
What triggers nostalgia for them, most often? Do they enjoy that feeling?
What were they told to stop/start doing most often as a child
Do they swear? Do they remember their first swear word?
What lie do they most frequently remember telling? Does it haunt them?
How do they cope with confusion (seek clarification, pretend they understand, etc)?
How do they deal with an itch found in a place they can’t quite reach?
What color do they think they look best in? Do they actually look best in that color?
What animal do they fear most?
How do they speak? Is what they say usually thought of on the spot, or do they rehearse it in their mind first?
What makes their stomach turn?
Are they easily embarrassed?
What embarrasses them?
What is their favorite number?
If they were asked to explain the difference between romantic and platonic or familial love, how would they do so?
Why do they get up in the morning?
How does jealousy manifest itself in them (they become possessive, they become aloof, etc)?
How does envy manifest itself in them (they take what they want, they become resentful, etc)?
Is sex something that they’re comfortable speaking about? To whom?
What are their thoughts on marriage?
What is their preferred mode of transportation?
What causes them to feel dread?
Would they prefer a lie over an unpleasant truth?
Do they usually live up to their own ideals?
Who do they most regret meeting?
Who are they the most glad to have met?
Do they have a go-to story in conversation? Or a joke?
Could they be considered lazy?
How hard is it for them to shake a sense of guilt?
How do they treat the things their friends come to them excited about? Are they supportive?
Do they actively seek romance, or do they wait for it to fall into their lap?
Do they have a system for remembering names, long lists of numbers, things that need to go in a certain order (like anagrams, putting things to melodies, etc)?
What memory do they revisit the most often?
How easy is it for them to ignore flaws in other people?
How sensitive are they to their own flaws?
How do they feel about children?
How badly do they want to reach their end goal?
If someone asked them to explain their sexuality, how would they do so?
QUESTIONS FOR CREATORS
A) Why are you excited about this character?
B) What inspired you to create them?
C) Did you have trouble figuring out where they fit in their own story?
D) Have they always had the same physical appearance, or have you had to edit how they look?
E) Are they someone you would get along with? Would they get along with you?
F) What do you feel when you think of your OC (pride, excitement, frustration, etc)?
G) What trait of theirs bothers you the most?
H) What trait do you admire most?
I) Do you prefer to keep them in their canon universe?
J) Did you have to manipulate or exclude canon factors to allow them to create their character?
(Can be extended to include some anti-heroes, anti-villains, etc.)
I hadn’t seen one around, so I put together a one word prompt list specifically for villains. Use them to write something, draw something, or make gif sets of your villainous fave(s) - anything you like!
31 prompts, so you can work on something each day for a month, just pick a few, or reblog for people to send your a character and prompt - it’s all good.
8. Share a snippet from one of your favorite dialogue scenes you’ve written and explain why you’re proud of it.
Oh man, I think I just like any/everything with Allura talking? But, I’ve made my decision! Basically all the dialogue in a very, very short piece I wrote “When He Fell in Love With Her”. I came up with the dialogue on a whim and like .... had to write it? Haven’t posted the piece, I might not, but this is the bulk of it:
"Yes, I seem to be of some use after all." Despite doing his best to stay out of the way and out of trouble, Zevran had not won over many of the other group members. He felt that it was partly because of the way Allura accepted him wholeheartedly; some of them had to remain objective.
"I think you'd be just as helpful without the lessons." She lunged forward and thrusted with the full length sword.
"Oh? What if I was bedridden and couldn't move?"
"You mean like after we first met?" He could hear a smirk in her voice. Was she being coy? "I would take care of you until you were better."
"For free again? How generous."
She chuckled. "Your stories would be my payment."
"What if I fell ill and lost my voice? These cold Fereldan winters are so hard on my delicate throat."
"Your massages would be enough."
Zevran was dumbfounded. Was she naturally this selfless or was he a special case?
"And if I lost my arms?"
Another chuckle. "You'd be a nice hot water bottle. You spoke of how cold Fereldan is."
"What if I had no arms or legs?"
What if he was injured, ill, had no his voice, and lost his limbs? What if he was but a shell of the man she knows now? He could hear his pulse echoing in his head; at what point would he wear out his "helpfulness" to his benefactor? How would she tell him? When would he be alone again?
She centered herself to prepare for the swing the blade. "Then..."
She swung, and the blade's point stopped directly in front of his face, level with his eyes. He paid the blade no mind, and focused on her. They both knew she didn't want him dead.
"I would enjoy your company."
30. Do you accept prompts?
askdfdl, yes I do! I just didn’t know that my Ask was closed!! But yes, I love prompts, and will do them even if it takes a while for me to get to it.
31. Do you take liberties with canon or are you very strict about your fic being canon compliant?
I’m kinda weird abt this! Most things I’ll use from canon tbh. Like the over arching plot, world status. But the characters... I feel like can have so much more depth? So I tend to change character’s sexualities or give explanations for their quirks.
