#heh.. you could say hes pretty.. cutthroat..

[dragonzart03]

potentially a mitch art…?☺️(im obsessed with him its bad😭)

Here ya go!! Dw I'm also obsessed with him so I was very happy with this ask 😭

This is actually the first time I've ever drawn him and I'm pretty proud of it :)

I could have made the lineart a bit darker though because his skin color kinda blends in with the lines of his facial features :[

[hystericfae]

Been getting back into dialovers....the obsession truly never fades.

[dezz111]

Do Or Do Not, There is No Fighting Disney

((For context, I wrote this for class and decided to share it here.)

Ron DeSantis, take your L and do it well.

The LGBTQ+ community has been parked pretty with our bucket of caramel popcorn and Mickey Mouse pretzels. Because one does not simply go against Disney lawyers and expect to win. It is as simple as do not or do not. There is no try. And by the Magic Kingdom, did DeSantis try?

Pardon my glee, but this is up there with Trump being indicted and Stacy Plasket throwing back papers on national television. (Count your blessings, Elon. You were supposed to be on my chopping block this week.) Now I can understand if I’ve lost you like DeSantis did. But give me a second to give you all the details of the royal smackdown presented by the House of Mouse.

Now, as some of you may know, Florida has become something a…. What’s the word? Joke. And a terrible one at that. With a “man” like DeSantis in charge, the state has become the subject of more memes and episodes of The Daily Show than any other. The increasing bans on anything that will hurt a Karen’s feelings or call out a Ken on his bullshit are slowly lowering the state’s IQ. No one wants little Timmy to feel bad about history or come home asking his parents the hard questions, so it's easier to make sure he won't ask them in the first place. Because guilty consciences usually fight the hardest. And heaven forbid the people in charge of serving the people follow the proclamations of the good book that they so claim to follow and wield as a weapon of self-righteousness. For why would they love their neighbor who has no bearing or effect on their personal lives when they could just as easily let their blind hate lead them by the nose? Because heaven forbid that a rainbow, a symbol of peace, love, and acceptance be used for just that. Let’s simply ban it altogether.

Let’s make sure no one can say, Gay!

Heh. No. While I normally don't support multi-billion dollar corporations, I will gladly give Disney my vote when they inevitably run for President. Because Disney most definitely said, Gay.  Especially with the main character of their hit show, The Owl House, being openly bisexual with a lesbian girlfriend. Let’s not forget the married gay couple and the non-binary representation in the show. The company simply told Florida that they will stay in their self-governed lane and say, Gay. 

DeSantis took offense to this and decided to make Disney his new campaign promise. Because nothing screams competency and a desire to serve your eg- I mean the people like squaring up with the House of Mouse. Especially when you're pulling books like Maus off the shelves because you don't want to acknowledge your own hypocrisy. Now, I would like to point out that this was the moment when most of TikTok knew that he fucked up. Because everyone and their blind cat know that Disney lawyers are paid too much to lose. Ronny Boy thought he had one when he was able to take away Disney’s self-governing status and turned Reedy Creek over to his specially selected board (Swisher). The plan was to basically gain all the money and royalties they felt entitled to and make bank off of Disney. That is not what happened. 

Instead, Disney pulled out the biggest UNO reverse and slammed several draw four cards with an additional wild draw four card.

The board, and by extension Florida, has inherited Disney’s billion-dollar debt. Not only that, but the board has zero control over any of the entertainment mogul's intellectual property and has no right to make any changes to its parks until “21 years after the death of the last survivor of the descendants of King Charles III, King of England living as of the date of this Declaration.” (Cho). This means until the last of the British monarchy dies out, Florida cannot touch any of the characters of influence that DeSantis oh so desperately tried to put his fingers on without the most cutthroat lawyers known to mankind coming for his neck. Disney tied its fate to actual royalty in a power move that will be taught in law schools for decades to come. 

In the end, DeSantis fucked around and found out. And Disney said, “You’re welcome”.

Works Cited

Cho, W. (2023, March 30). Florida gov. Ron DeSantis' board outmaneuvered in wrangling 

over Disney Special District Control. The Hollywood Reporter. Retrieved April 4, 2023, from https://www.hollywoodreporter.com/business/business-news/disney-desantis-

board-special-district-control-1235363643/

Gay, R. (2023, April 2). The Audacious Roundup. The Audacious Roundup - by Roxane 

Gay. Retrieved April 4, 2023, from https://audacity.substack.com/p/the-audacious-roundup

-469?utm_source=substack&utm_medium=email

Gregg, A., Rozsa, L., & Pietsch, B. (2023, March 31). Disney quietly dodged DeSantis's 

Oversight Board, appointees realize. The Washington Post. Retrieved April 4, 2023, from https://www.washingtonpost.com/nation/2023/03/30/desantis-disney-world-board-loophole/

Swisher, S. (2023, March 31). DeSantis' Reedy Creek Board says Disney stripped its 

power. Orlando Sentinel. Retrieved April 4, 2023, from https://www.orlandosentinel.com/

news/os-ne-disney-new-reedy-creek-board-powerless-20230329-qalagcs4wjfe3iwkpzjsz2v4qm-story.html 

[yourfaveisyanderematic]

Safety In Numbers

So, uh, took some liberties with this one, because that’s the world we live in, and that’s just how things are.

WARNING:  Animal death.

You’re not one to be easily frightened, but you couldn’t help but rest your hand on the stock of your rifle as you glared into the darkness at the edge of your camp.  “I think that’s close enough, don’t you?”

Bear Ghost, your Andalusian white enough to glow in the dark, tossed its head, ears swiveled in the direction of the intruder.  Your unwelcome guest raised his hands, letting the gold accents on his shirt and hat flash in the spluttering firelight of your camp.  “Easy there, easy…didn’t mean to frighten you.  Heh, heh…”

Your grip tightened as the posh English accent registered.  You knew who this was, not that it meant you’re any safer out here in the Midwestern wilderness.  Diego-Fucking-Brando was unlikely to qualify for sainthood, to put it mildly, and tonight was the worst possible night for whatever underhanded tactics he might try.

The other riders you’ve banded with have noticed the newcomer by now, and moved to flank you.  Nobody’s pointing their guns yet, but the situation was certainly tense; you saw Wesson’s hand tense over his revolver, and Thompson’s rifle was slung over his shoulder in that too-casual way he adopted when he was preparing to shoot.  You watched Diego’s eyes rove over each of you, clearly calculating the situation and working out what his approach should be, as his horse pawed the ground.  Bear Ghost mimicked the action, though his was from definite nervousness.

Diego’s eyes were so blue, even in the near-blackness of the moonless night.  The color was intense, almost unnaturally so, and the way the shadows played over his face made it easy to imagine more monstrous features.  He took another step forward, properly illuminating himself in the campfire’s light, and you kicked yourself for being so paranoid; his features were handsome and arrogant, but all too human.  It was bad enough that you were being stalked by a monster; did you have to start imagining them on horseback, too?

“Are you sure I can’t give you the pleasure of my company?” he wheedled.  “It’s dark out here, and bitterly cold.  Safety’s in numbers, they always say…”

Safety in numbers.  The words sent a flash of memory through your head, of white teeth and unnatural shadow, and your next words—to tell him off, to leave before you opened fire—died in your throat.

Smith, ever the voice of mercy in your little group, noticed your hesitation.  “C’mon, Colt.  I’ve got no love for him same as you, but it’ll be murder to leave a man by his lonesome out there, what with the—“

“Oh, don’t scare the man.” his brother cut him off and stepped to the side, gesturing to the campfire.  “You can spend the night with us, but we’ll have to ask you to keep your distance from our horses, and we won’t be riding together come morning.”

Diego obligingly slid off his horse’s back in that arrogantly elegant little flip he does when trying to show off.  You were very pointedly not looking, suddenly busying yourself with the coffee you’d been making before you were interrupted by his arrival.

Honestly, that was for the best.  You were still shaken up by the events of the past few days, still easily spooked, and seeing the strangely cracked skin on the side of his face before he adjusted his bandage would have only made things worse.

—

“So…you’re going by Colt, now?” the words drifted a little on the evening breeze, making you groan.

Diego, to his credit (and your relief), had felt no need to get buddy-buddy just because he was sharing your fire; once he’d collected his coffee and some dinner, he’d retreated to the far side of the camp to tend to his horse, rebuffing Smith’s perfunctory attempts at conversation.  You wished he would, though; if his attention was on something else, it wouldn’t be on you.

He was watching, when Thompson’s hands brushed against yours as he took a seat next to you, and he was watching when Smith started with his stargazing and you shepherded him back to the safety of the group.  He was watching when you checked on Bear Ghost and the other horses.

Hell, you didn’t think he’d stopped watching you since he’d shown up tonight.  Thompson and the brothers had all headed to bed already, trusting you with the first watch, though the former whispered in passing that he’d stay up just in case Diego tried anything when you were apparently alone.

For the first hour or so, he hadn’t said anything, just sat by his horse and watched you pretend to not be watching him, as the night wind toyed with some dried leaves and something made scratching noises in the distance that made you shiver.

Now that he was apparently certain only the two of you were left awake, though, he’d approached.  Not close enough that you felt justified pointing the gun at him, but when he carefully lowered himself into the spot Thompson had occupied only a couple hours before, you found yourself holding your breath.

“I needed a fresh start, I guess.  Had to get away from my history in the racing circuit, under that…other name.”

“Your real name, you mean?  The name praised in every paper on the East Coast for your unerring skill and peerless talent?  That name?” he leered, the firelight doing something strange to the edges of his mouth.  You averted your gaze.

“If I wanted to talk about it, Diego, I would have.  It’s just Colt, now.  For as long as Thompson and the brothers’ll have me, anyway.”

I hope it’s forever, you wanted to say, but that felt embarrassingly personal to declare somehow, and Diego wasn’t really the kind of person you wanted to have this conversation with, anyway.  You didn’t have to look at his face to know he was frowning.

“Hrmm,” he replied, in a way that could have been interpreted as ‘I respect your boundaries, Colt, and I’ve decided not to press for more information despite my burning curiosity’, but what you suspected to be ‘wow! I just realized I didn’t care about this at all, actually, and I’m relieved you stopped before I had to get up and walk away from the conversation’.

He opened his mouth to say something else, but shut it again with an irritated snap as one of the tent flaps popped open and Wesson came into view, suppressing a yawn.

“Diego seduce you into racing with him instead yet, Colt?” he called as he wandered into the brush to take a piss.  

The blond curled his lip, but you grinned and called back.  “I’m giving it some pretty serious thought…he’s promised me a fortune back in England, and also to marry me.  I’m still holding out, though, I’m hoping for his horse.”

Wesson gave a bark of laughter (answered by a muffled “Chrissakes, shut up!” from Smith’s tent) as he finished up and came back.

“Is that all it would take to buy your talent?” Diego asked, eyebrow raised.  “This may be easier than I thought.”

The way he said it was easy to play off as a joke, but the idea—that Diego Brando, genius jockey, even considered you worthwhile competition—made you pause, even if you’d just promised you’d left that life behind.  Wesson caught the look and chuckled.

“Don’t let Thompson hear you talk like that.  He’s gotten pretty fond of you, y’know…keeps dithering about how to ask you to stay with us once this whole race thing’s over.”  Wesson gave you a knowing smile and threw another couple logs onto the campfire.

“Has he, now.”  Diego hissed, almost inaudible over the crackling of the flames.  His handsome features, already distorted by the uneven shadows of the firelight, now looked downright monstrous.  He glared at the tent the other man was resting in, then back at you.

You decided to go to bed.

—

The first thing you registered upon waking up was that it was still impossibly dark.

The second thing you registered was the hand over your mouth.

You shouted, a sound strangled by your assailant as they held you down, and it took several desperate seconds of struggling for your gun before you realized it was Wesson, trying to get you to stop with frantic, hushed whispers.

He had to repeat himself a fourth time before the words finally registered, finally taking his hand off your face.

“Smith’s dead and Thompson and Diego are gone.  We need to get out of here.”

“What?” you repeated, dumbly.  Smith—excellent with a knife and unbeatable as a navigator, who had seen so much and somehow maintained an attitude of ‘let’s be nice to other racers even though the Run has been nothing short of cutthroat’—dead?  How?

The stench of blood registered in your nostrils as you wrapped your head around the words.  How hadn’t you noticed it before?

“Smith is dead,” Wesson repeated, a definite wobble in his voice, “Thompson and Diego are gone.  I think…I think it took them.  We need to go.”

It had finally come.  Fear, numb and overwhelming, threatened to paralyze you, but Wesson was already moving, grounding you in the moment.  Cold metal forced itself into your hands.  Your rifle.  It was all you were carrying with you—Wesson barely gave you time to put on your boots before he grabbed your hand and lead you through the hole he’d cut in the side of your tent, slipping in the mud left behind by a recent rain.  You could barely keep up as he dragged you toward your horses, still tied to their tree but only barely; Bear Ghost had all but torn himself free in a frenzy of terror, and the other three were…

It hadn’t rained.

In the moment you realized this, Wesson lost his footing entirely, plummeting to the ground and sending a wave of gore splashing over your boots as he landed squarely in the eviscerated remains of his own horse.  One glassy eye stared up at you as you frantically pulled him back to his feet, deaf to his disgusted spluttering as he tried to get the blood out of his mouth.  You heard a crunch underfoot as your heel crushed the remains of Bonnie Tyler’s jaw, torn off and left half-buried in the mud a few feet away, but more importantly you heard the rattling hiss of something that was very definitely not a deer, coming from the direction of the campfire.

“Fuck.  Shit!  Get on, Wesson!” you whispered, forcing yourself onto Bear Ghost’s back, holding a hand out for him.  Instead of taking it, however, Wesson pulled a knife and cut the rope tethering your horse to its tree, letting it give into instinct and flee into the darkness in a mad dash.  You were too surprised by the move to react; all you could do was hang on.

“Wesson!”  You screamed, whipping your head around, and the last thing you saw as he disappeared from view was the flash from his rifle—your rifle, he must have taken it from you in the confusion—as he took aim and fired, still desperately trying to buy you the seconds you needed to escape, abandoning his own hope for survival in the same breath.

Tears blurred your vision, making it impossible to navigate even if you could somehow see in the dark, and you found yourself letting Bear Ghost dictate where to go.  Was this a nightmare?  It had to be.  It was too close to what you’d been dreading but didn’t dare voice—the loss of your precious friends to a nameless horror that stalked the night and finally made its move, something that could dodge a bullet and gouge stone with its claws, something that wouldn’t stop until it had finally eaten you alive.

Help.  You had to get help.  But where could you go that could protect you from a living, breathing monster?  As if recalling the words of another lifetime, you remembered that the nearest town was a day and a half’s ride away.

It might as well have been on the moon, for all the good it would do you now.  Hell, you could say that for a town an hour’s ride away, ten minutes away, because there was something else in the hills with you now, and your horse didn’t have a hope in hell of outrunning it.  

You’d almost missed it.  Its gait matched Bear Ghost’s almost perfectly, and it hadn’t been directly behind you, so you wouldn’t have seen it looking back.  Even now that you knew where to look, though, you didn’t have a clear idea of what exactly you were looking at.

That was Diego’s horse.  You knew it well enough, had stared at its ass for more than long enough on those perilous stretches where you were so close to passing him, but the thing riding it was unlike any living being you’d ever seen before.

It had a tail, one that lashed the air as it egged Silver Bullet closer and closer to you.  

It had claws, talons thicker than your fist that somehow managed to grip the reins without gouging the horse.

It had eyes, electric blue and full of a malevolent intelligence no animal could possess, eyes that had been fixed on you since…

No.  It couldn’t be.

Belatedly, you realized you’d let the other rider—this Not-Diego, whose muzzle gleamed in the starlight with a dark liquid you knew to be blood—get far, far too close.  Bear Ghost was foaming at the mouth in its mad dash to get away, but for every few strides it took, Silver Bullet somehow managed to take one more, until the two of you were neck and neck, separated only by a few meters.  You yanked the reins in one hand as you made one last, desperate gamble, reaching down your boot for the concealed pistol and pulling it up, aiming and firing in a wild shot that was more like a prayer than anything—

In that moment, faster than your eye could follow, the thing jumped, slamming into Bear Ghost’s side, tearing into its flesh with the massive talons on its feet. Its jaws opened, surely about to rip into your own flesh and tear your head clean off—

The world became a blur as Bear Ghost screamed again with a desperate finality, losing its balance under the weight of the Not-Diego and plummeting to the side.  You hit the ground with a graceless thud and rolled a meter or two, barely able to register the wind knocked out of you as you stared up at your horse, transfixed.  Time seemed to slow to a crawl as its full weight hovered overhead, its body contorted in a grotesque dance, and you found yourself hoping that the fall would kill you before the monster could, that you would be crushed before you had to endure the agony of being eaten alive.

Sorry, Wesson.  Looks like you did all that for nothing.

Teeth sank into your shoulder and pulled just as twelve hundred pounds of horse slammed into the earth, obliterating the spot you occupied a fraction of a second previously.  Your breath came in shaky, hysterical gasps as you watched Bear Ghost writhe in place, unable to get up or escape.  You found yourself struggling to your elbows to get up and help it, but a massive reptilian foot suddenly put its weight on your chest, keeping you in place, the points of the talons puncturing your jacket and grazing your skin.

The Not-Diego’s face came into view, teeth bared in a hideous grin as it breathed in the smell of your blood with quick, hungry snorts.  You shut your eyes.  If you wished hard enough, prayed hard enough to a god you stopped believing in years ago, maybe this would all turn out to be a dream.

“I’m really sorry about your horse,” the surprisingly human voice startled you into opening your eyes, to see the monster sitting on your chest had turned back into a man…mostly a man.  The feral, too-large grin you thought had been a trick of the firelight loomed at you now, as horrifically real as the rest of the night had been.

“What a shame…looks like you won’t be racing with your little pack anymore.  You’ll have to ride with me, instead…safety in numbers, and all that.”

[bae-leth]

I had a bunch more stuff I wanted to say about Faris and Natalia’s relationship in the Fraldarddyd family AU but I thought it would be easier on everyone to put all my thoughts in one submissions instead of sending a dozen asks this time. Also, lol, I can’t believe I keep coincidentally giving these characters the names of your relatives, what the heck???

Let’s just go over Faris first. He’s a friendly and social guy. He’s obsessed with the stars and can talk about them for hours if given the chance. He’s a smart guy and super politically savvy, perfectly at home in even the most cutthroat political climates. He’s known to be very mischievous and prone to pranks, though the less he likes you then the harsher his pranks can be. He and Natalia are the same age but he’s a couple months younger, which she loves to hold over him especially after he grows taller than her. He and Zain are pretty close despite Zain loving to give his little brother shit whenever possible. I see him being magically gifted, so I imagine him as a Warlock. I see him mainly taking after Claude in terms of looks (I don’t really have a spouse in mind for Claude in this AU so I’m leaving that part kinda vague).

Strengths – Reason, Authority; Weaknesses – Axe, Brawl, Heavy Armor; Budding Talent - Lance

Zain is two years older than Faris and basically anyone who meets him considers him a stern and serious no-nonsense kind of crown prince. This is how he’s like around most people. However he allows himself to relax and show off a much more playful, emotional, teasing side around people he trusts wholeheartedly (his immediate family and a small handful of friends). He resembles his brother in having the same eye color and skin tone, but Zain looks much more rugged and mature. Unlike Faris he is perfectly at home on the battlefield, being a renowned Sniper with plenty of victories to his name. He never became a Barbarossa like his dad cause he’s scared of heights. He enjoys the ocean a ton, so he’s always up for ocean voyages and will take any and every chance to explore coastlines.

Strengths - Bow, Axe, Authority; Weaknesses – Faith, Flying; Budding Talent - Riding

The whole engagement thing between Faris and Natalia is largely unofficial and both sides mainly just want their kids to become close to promote good relations between Fodlan and Almyra. Although things would really work out the best if the pair did become romantically involved but no one is really pushy about it. Especially since Faris and Natalia just do NOT like each other. Honestly the only thing stopping the first meeting between the royal children from being a complete disaster is that both Faris and Zain quickly become attached to Artemis (prince of stealing hearts without even trying). Faris and Artemis latch onto each other since they have so much in common (second princes, good at magic, similar weaknesses, bookworms, etc) while Zain ends up considering Artemis like another little brother while Artemis really look up to Zain (it’s thanks to Zain that Artemis’ budding talent is bows). Also Zain actually ends up being friendly with Natalia too (he likes her strong, honest personality and honestly he finds the disaster that is hers and Faris’ relationship hilarious, plus she thinks he’s super cool and likes sparring with him). So it’s literally just Natalia and Faris at odds with each other.

“If you like Artemis so much, why don’t you marry him instead?!” “Maybe I will!” “Fine!” “Fine!” “FINE!” “FINE!!!” *Zain and Artemis in the background, talking about their favorite desserts and not getting involved in their siblings’ fight*

“Claude I’m starting to doubt if this will work out. The two of them hate each other.” “Well Felix hated you plenty for a few years and look at you now. Adorable little lovebirds, a love story perfect for the bards to sing of!” “Listen here you little-” “Felix please.”

In order to try and help Natalia and Faris get along they’re both sent to visit each other’s homeland a bunch over the years. Occasionally the whole family goes but the rulers can’t keep running off all the time. So most of the time it’s Natalia (and Artemis because Natalia barricaded herself in her room until her dads agreed to let her take Artemis along “to see that stupid Faris’ face”) visiting Almyra for several weeks and then a little while later it’s Faris visiting Fodlan, particularly Faerghus, for several weeks (only bringing Zain when he’s in a particularly bad mood thanks to Natalia since Zain keeps making fun of him otherwise).

Faris is kinda sorta okay when he’s in Faerghus, even though it’s absurdly cold most of the time. Hell, every time he thinks he’s wearing enough the weather proves him wrong. Natalia keeps laughing at him when he has to dress up like a marshmallow in order to go out in Faerghus winters. Natalia is very brutal in snowball fights…RIP Faris. He definitely prefers to stay inside by the fireplace, though Natalia is insistent on dragging him outside. It usually ends in him spending the last few days of his stay sick in bed.

Natalia, like Dimitri, is dead in heat so every time she goes to Almyra she spends around a week just laying on her bed wearing as little as proper manners will allow. Faris alternates between “helping” by practicing his ice magic on her or otherwise relying on her need to do better than him to goad her into playing with him. Though he had to lay off on that after Natalia got heatstroke once.

Natalia considers it a personal insult that her beloved horse absolutely adores Faris when he’s usually very picky about who he allows near him (“Ares, how could you do this to me?!” *neighs* “Oh don’t give me that attitude young man!”)

Faris, in the meanwhile, is not pleased by how his retainers-in-the-making are absolutely smitten with Natalia (“Did you see her in yesterday’s spar with the new recruits? She could break my spine and I’d thank her.” “Please, sweet embrace of death, come for me.”)

Artemis and Zain start being regular pen pals as they compare archery notes, seek advice from one prince to another, talk about recent events in their homeland and in their lives, and complain about their siblings/commentate on whether or not they’ll get together.

“I don’t know, Zain, after that incident with the birds Sister said, and I quote, ‘The next time I see that scrawny piece of *ahem* garbage, he’s dead. Almyra will be down a prince and they’ll be all the better for it.’ So I’m saying no.” “I’d agree with you, especially since Faris has been disturbingly interested in researching dark magic after eating those ‘super special Faerghus delicacies’ Natalia brought last time. But for as social as he is my brother is normally never so obsessed with anyone, so I think we may have a romance for the ages on our hands, my friend!”

The two of them play PLENTY of stupid pranks on each other over the years. Sometimes they flat out got into physical fights with each other. The people of Fodlan and Almyra have long since gotten used to the sound of Faris and Natalia yelling at each other and then the sound of crashing and punching.

That being said, not everything was bad between them. That one time Natalia got heatstroke, Faris was genuinely apologetic and worried about her and kept her company while she was bedridden. Likewise Natalia does feel bad when she keeps getting Faris sick while trying to show off Faerghus to him and will read him adventure stories to pass the time. Also I love the idea you mentioned of Faris trying to help Natalia get over her low spice intolerance (to mixed results, Natalia’s just glad she no longer downs an entire pitcher of water on her own after eating Almyran food). One time when a Faerghus noble child made a snide remark about Faris being Almyran, Natalia tackled the brat to the ground.

Faris, holding a tissue to Natalia’s bloody nose: “I thought you didn’t like me.” Natalia, very obviously confused: “??? What does not liking you have to do with you being Almyran?” Faris: “Heh, I suppose you’re right for once.”

“Zain, I think I want to change my opinion. Sister and Faris may have more of a chance than I originally thought.” “What did I tell you, Artemis? Romance for the ages…”

As the years pass and Natalia and Faris both grow and mature and mellow out, the two of them start to consider each other friends. They speak more, debate more, discuss their interests more, and slowly start to enjoy spending time together. Eventually it gets to the point where the two of them joke around about their kinda sorta engagement to each other. Natalia singing the absolute worst love songs while Faris writes the cheesiest poetry and love letters imaginable. Calling each other cutesy pet names, those kind of shenanigans.

Honestly, they mostly do it just to fuck with poor Zain and Artemis, who didn’t ask for this bullshit but are stuck with it anyways.

“Artemis, I need you to kill me, I can’t tolerate them anymore.” “Come now, Zain, it’s not so bad! Hey, why don’t we go for a ride on Altena? That always calms me down!” “I cannot stress enough how much I would rather die than do that…” “What are you trying to say about my sweet Altena, huh?” “Would you stop taking it as an insult against your wyvern every time?!”

Natalia starts teaching Faris about fighting with lances. And Faris helps Natalia grow more used to handling politics.

Honestly, there was something special growing between them for quite some time after they started getting along better, but neither of them really recognized what it could be. But they kept getting closer and closer as time passed. At public events they stuck by each other’s side and often danced together. They were seen going off on rides together or just taking walks while talking.

Faris is the first one to recognize his feelings when he comes along to help Natalia out with a skirmish. The pair make a great team in battle, covering for each other’s weaknesses well. Faris, too exhausted after a large number of enemies surrounded him, is almost taken down from behind when Natalia saves him. His joke has a fair amount of relief and gratitude in it when he says “Thanks for the help, sweetheart!” But WOW when Natalia turns to him with the most dazzling smile on her face, looking like she practically glowing with the sun behind her, Faris feels like his heart stops. “Anytime, honey!” And Faris just keeps staring after her as she rushes off after another enemy.

Natalia was always pretty but Faris has never actually acknowledged how pretty until that moment. And his heart won’t stop racing, her smile and voice still in his head. And oh fuck, oh shit, he knows exactly what this is…

“Zain, you umm…you wouldn’t happen to know when the next visit to Fodlan is, would you?” “…Why do you ask, my dear little brother? :))))))” “…Are you going to tell Arty about this?” *Zain, pulling out a piece of parchment and quill* “What gives you that idea????”

Faris regrets everything when his parents and brother don’t let him live it down that he’s now realized he’s in love with Natalia. “Whatever happened to ‘I’d rather become a hermit and die alone and unloved on a barren mountain than ever marry her’ Faris? Seven-year-old you was soooo dramatic!” “Father, please.”

Things don’t change too significantly after Faris’ realization. But there are changes. He’s noticeably softer around Natalia, smiling gently around her or going along with her wishes more easily. Most of his pranks towards her tone down to being things that give her pleasant surprises. The most significant change comes from the love letters and poems purposefully written badly for jokes slowly becoming more sincere sounding and really sweet.

Natalia doesn’t know what to make of the changes. They’re odd but she’s more surprised by how much she enjoys it. She even reads Faris’ letters and poems over and over well into the night. A warm and peaceful feeling spreads through her every time she gets a new letter from Faris or he holds her closer than usual during a dance.

She doesn’t realize it’s love until sometime later when she visits Almyra. Faris is so bright and excited as he drags her outside in the dead of night because the skies are so clear that you can see way more stars than normal and it’s soooo beautiful. Faris happily explains the stories behind all the different constellations and laughs so happily recalling some of his favorite tales. Natalia stares and stares at him and thinks that she could watch him smile and laugh like that forever. At some point Faris starts holding her hands and pulls her close to him as he keeps pointing out constellations and telling her stories. And Natalia tries so hard to concentrate on his words but all she can focus on is his hands and how warm they are and so much bigger than hers and how she wants him to keep holding her and-Oh. Ooohhhh…Oh fuck…

“So, Sister, you enjoyed your last visit to Almyra a lot, didn’t you?” “Hmm? What gave that away, Artemis?” *Natalia, lying on her bed surrounded by all of Faris’ letters and poems to her, giggling to herself as she reads them* “…Just a hunch.”

“Felix, it seems Claude was right. He tells me Faris is rather obviously smitten. And it’s easy to tell Natalia is in love. While I’m sad at how quickly the children are growing up, it’s wonderful to see them so happy, isn’t it?” “Uh-huh yeah sure, do you think this blade is sharp enough or should I take it back to the blacksmith? I want it ready before the Almyrans come visit next month.” “…Why are you-?” “You know damn well why.” “Felix.”

“Well it seems you and I will get to call each other ‘brother’ soon enough, Artemis! Or well, hopefully soon enough. It depends on how long it takes our stubborn siblings to take those final steps.” “Agreed. But I’ve already thought of you as my brother for a long time now, Zain. We’ve known each other for so many years! Your one of my dearest friends and my brother in all but blood. :)” “…” “??? Zain, are you crying-?” “*sobs* NO, I’m not!”

[grand-alter]

Overture of Terror

My submission for the Disgaea Halloween Gift Exchange. This one goes out to Neko Lyra, a.k.a lyra2love/neko-lyra of Twitter/DeviantArt respectively.

Just a little one-shot for Zeroken and Usalia which takes place in my technically 1000 year time-skip series of fanfictions known as Fading Retribution.

-----

Hm…

Ethereal wisps, check.

Screeching pumpkins, check.

Frightful decorum, check.

A set of azure candle lights had been flickering along the edge of the foyer, piercing through the calm night from outside of the castle. As a cavalcade of wererabbit maids had been making the finishing touches to various decorations within the room, Usalia had been marking off the last of many spaces on a list in her dainty grasp.

…and done.

The young overlord hands off her checklist to the maid at her side, “Preparations have come along very well. Splendid work, Elie. Your company is dismissed for the night.”

Elie retrieves the completed list from Usalia, and she gives her a respectful bow in response, “Of course, Mistress. We will make sure to contact our Prinnies for an update on the sweets.”

When the overlord nodded her head in affirmation to her vassal, the maid circles back through the foyer of the castle, filing her ensemble into its hallways.

A period of silence had then ensued around the lone wererabbit upon her vassals having departed, making the air run still in her domain.

Usalia sets her keen eyes back on the center of the room, and she lets out a calm sigh as she pressed her fingers together. When she gave a quick snap of said fingers, the numerous chandelier lights above her go out in an instant, leaving her in a quiet darkness.

As the eerie candle flames burned through the interior shade of the building, the overlord gives a final once over to the foyer and all of the colorful ornaments placed in it.

Hm, not a single ribbon out of line or decoration out of place there. The venue was all nice and orderly, just perfect for the festive gathering in mind by her.

As the wererabbit had stood composed before the scene for some kind of occasion, a quick shadow had been slipping through the darkness without a singular trace.

Usalia adjusts her short dress as she looked herself over as well, a small quirk to her lips, “Can’t wait for the others to see…”

In spite of her stoic disposition, a warm smile almost belaying excitement had made its way onto her expression. At that moment though, the shadowy figure had landed from above, intent on approaching her from behind, and he…

He shifts her rabbit ears apart in a rather gentle manner. She then feels a chin plop itself onto her head, going wide-eyed from the sudden contact.

“Can’t wait for us to see what?”

Huh…

Usalia flinches from the sly gesture of the visitor, and she almost trips forward as she spun back toward him, “P-plip?!”

Ugh… damn habit. How did…?

As the wererabbit steadied herself from all of that, the figure just looks on in befuddlement from her reaction, “Uh… hey, Usalia. You good?”

The overlord then almost freezes upon noticing who was before her. Even as he stood there in the room, his orange irises gleam in the ominous shade around them.

Zeroken… it was just Zeroken.

She gets her demeanor straightened out, “Oh… Hello to you too, Zeroken. What brings you back on such short notice… or no notice at all for that matter?”

As she adjusted her fluffy ears for a bit, he gives her a short wave in greeting, “Yo, caught wind of a little detail in the grapevine that you were planning some big event.”

She raises an eyebrow at that explanation from him, “Hm, you learned of that from a leak? What of the messenger Prinny I had sent out to you?”

In light of that question for the werewolf… a quiet beat passes.

He just tilts his head at her in apparent confusion, “Huh… what messenger Prinny?”

She could only pinch the bridge of her nose in disappointment. Note to self… continue doubting viability of the Hades Prinny Mail Service.

As he gave a cursory glance to the rest of the foyer, she shakes that lingering thought out of her mind, “Nevertheless, I planned for everyone to arrive on the same day.”

He wraps his arms behind his head as he looked back down at her, “Heh, guess I took the initiative then. So that’s what this whole setup was for.”

She nods her head in response to him on that, and she begins strolling back toward the windows of the room, “Hm, would you happen to have heard of Halloween by any chance?”

He looks off to the side in a moment of thought as he followed beside her, and he gives a casual shrug to her question, “Kinda, isn’t it one of those little human holidays?”

She gestures him toward the distinct ornaments arranged within her family castle, “Indeed, you could say I’m paying tribute to it this month.”

He raises an eyebrow at that assured statement from her, “Really now? But… it does seem a bit kiddy though, even with all this fancy decor being up.”

She clasps her small hand over her chest, “It is meant to be a respectful celebration. A time when they regard the importance of our kind by donning costumes and adopting a frightful atmosphere like those of the Netherworlds. Even bestowing sweets all the while.”

He almosts chuckles at her reasoning, “Oh, so they wear outfits and give out candy? Definitely seems kiddy to me.”

As the pair approached the view of the royal courtyard, she gives him a coy look, “Then it should be perfect for someone like you.”

He rolls his sharp eyes at her retort, “Eh, you’re not wrong there.”

She directs her sight up to the countless glimmers which dotted the night sky, “Mhm, but it could be fun for the likes of us. Everyone would be able to see each other after so long.”

He lets a smirk come to his face as he also looked up at the stars, “Heh… that does sound like something. Has been quite awhile…”

When he looked down over at her, his smirk loosening back into a smile, she returns the smile in kind, “It really has been.”

The werewolf had begun stretching out his lean form, enjoying the starlight from outside. As a quaint smile remained on the wererabbit, she wraps her arms behind her soft jacket.

Zeroken does perk up at a particular thought in mind though, so he begins looking around more of the foyer, “Speaking of… what about Majorita? Much with her?”

“Over here, mutt!”

Zeroken spins back toward the source of the exclamation, and he just raises an eyebrow upon seeing a certain necromancer come into view, “Uh…”

Mop in hand, the other woman just grimaces to herself as she wiped at the floor, clad in the same uniform as the maids from earlier, “Don’t… ask. I’m doing just peachy.”

As Majorita returned to her duties now in the foyer, Zeroken glances back down at Usalia, a sweatdrop to his brow, “Huh… guess that answers my question.”

Usalia returns the glance as she also turned back toward Majorita, letting the tiniest of smirks creep onto her lips, “Indeed, same circumstance as always with her.”

Zeroken sighes out in exasperation from that, “Geez, still no mercy for the wicked it seems. You just gonna be leaving her in the dust for the whole party?”

Usalia lets out a coy gasp as she glanced away from the werewolf, “Why, of course not, Zero. I will permit her some autonomy during it. I am a demon after all, not a monster.”

Zeroken almost sweatdrops again from catching a glimpse of the malicious side of his wererabbit friend, “Some, huh? Whatever you say, Lil’ Usa.”

As Majorita almost gagged from the conversation in earshot, Usalia holds back a little giggle from her former rebel partner, “Oh, do not forget how you were the one who decided to sneak inside here like some kind of street urchin.”

Zeroken flinches from that apt point being given, “Uh… not sure I made the best impression on your new guards. Figured I just take a different entry for tonight. Besides, seems like I got the drop on you pretty good back there.”

When he gave her a smug grin, she waves away that bout of confidence, “Feh, please. If it were anyone else, some blood would have most likely been shed by now.”

He raises an eyebrow at that cutthroat remark of hers, so he checks over his rugged garbs, “How considerate then. You weren’t really threatened by my presence at all, huh?”

As he continued grinning down at her, she trails her placid sight away from him, a light blush sneaking onto her features, “Hm… perhaps.”

In the meanwhile, Majorita was inching toward the pair of werebeasts in the process of her mopping work. She could only let out a silent groan upon seeing Usalia act bashful.

The necromancer halts herself when she reached the two, “Uh… ‘Mistress’, could you please quit your flirting and move along?”

The wererabbit shots a quick look over toward her servant, the slight pink on her cheeks fading away, “Why, of course.”

When Usalia pressed her fingers back together, raising them up for Majorita, the necromancer freezes up on the spot from the gesture. Zeroken tilts his head out of perplexity at that, noticing Majorita almost break out into a nervous sweat.

As Usalia did end up snapping her fingers from there, making the chandeliers light back up throughout the spacious room, Majorita winces at that instant. The impromptu maid just holds a shaky hand over her heart, turning somewhat pale from utter dread.

Hehehe… oh, how splendid.

Even as Zeroken raised a curious eyebrow at that reaction from Majorita, Usalia feels her smirk only grow wider, and she pulls her rebel compatriot aside, leading him into the hallways of the castle for the remainder of their little chat.

-----

A sincere thanks goes to @cosmicapproachart for suggesting the opportunity to me and everyone in the Disgaea Netherworlds Amino.

[amercsmemoirs]

The Handful and The Healer

Chapter 1: The Fateful Encounter 

AO3

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.”

Damien chuckled. “Thanks, Anders. I’ll definitely consider that.”

“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:

My brother’s number: (xxx) xxx-xxxx -Ezekiel