legate-violin sent: rogue Hawke stealing Anders's things just to annoy him

raining-demons-out-here:

(oasfdj this might be bad and riddled with typos)

"Hawke."

She is pretending to be asleep. She doesn’t move. He comes closer and shakes her. He’s far too irritated to be gentle.

She moans softly and rolls over, feigning drowsiness. Anders glowers down at her reproachfully.

"This has to stop."

She cracks open one eye and fakes a yawn. “What does, my dear?”

Don’t. You’ve been stealing my manifesto.”

She opens her eyes fully and tries her hardest to look shocked. “What? I would never -“

"And you’ve been editing them!" He brandishes the parchment in front of her face and she can see all the places where she’d scratched out phrases and put in inappropriate uses of the word ‘taint’.

"But Anders, darling…”

That’s not going to work!” he replies, but she’s pushing aside the coverlet and he can see that she’s nude underneath them. He swallows convulsively and puts forth a valiant effort to keep his gaze focused on her face.

She gets up off the bed, lithe and agile and almost liquid in her grace, and approaches him. He chews the inside of his cheek as she folds herself into his embrace.

"Go away, Justice. Can’t Anders come out and play?" she purrs into his ear and the parchment in his hand crinkles under his fist. He mutters a quiet curse and pushes her back to the bed.

Damn rogues.

misspaper:

stupid flower giving life ruining charming bundles of handsome leave me in peace….

misspaper:

stupid flower giving life ruining charming bundles of handsome leave me in peace….

misspaper:

stupid flower giving life ruining charming bundles of handsome leave me in peace….

misspaper:

stupid flower giving life ruining charming bundles of handsome leave me in peace….

sixpennies:

I should really be in bed but since I haven’t posted anything in a while have some shmoopsy kisses

(predictably fenders, predictably written for coco)

—-

Fenris is not a tactile person, not in any manner. The only time that he invites Anders to kiss him is when they are drunk, or fighting, or caught up in moments that are fast filled with bare skin and sweat and muffled curses; it is only then does he allow his desires to override that fear of close contact, and Fenris knows that he will find some odd comfort in the taste of Anders’ tongue and the husky timbre of his voice.

But some of Fenris’s favourite moments are when Anders is fast asleep, unaware that his elvhen lover has dropped his guards so far that his heart is as naked as his skin. In sleep, the lines on Anders’ brow smooth themselves clear, and it is to these that Fenris presses his lips; they travel south to kiss the curving bridge of a nose too-many times broken (and not just once by Fenris’s own hand), the top of a lip rough with stubble, the curve of a lower lip warm and soft and as familiar to Fenris as his own.

It is there that he allows his guards to truly melt away. It is there that he nestles his nose against his lover’s; there that his eyes come to close so that his lashes brush against Anders’ cheeks.

It is there that, between Anders’ gentled breathing and the dimness of night, that Fenris knows home.

ashsart:

anders doodle that i didn’t finish doodling. i might colour this someday.

ashsart:

anders doodle that i didn’t finish doodling. i might colour this someday.

experimentalmadness:

Name headcanons:

  • Anders’ real name was given to the Templars who came to take him to the Circle, but they couldn’t be bothered to remember. And after the majority of the trek to the Circle spent dragging the boy back after repeated escape attempts he became exasperatingly known as that troubled boy from the Anderfels.
  • At first Anders hates that this new name sticks. It doesn’t sit right on his tongue and sound harsh from everyone else. He spends most of his first few days in the Circle purposefully not responding when he’s called.
  • Anders starts daydreaming of a boy with his real name who has no magical powers and isn’t being held imprisoned. Someone who still has a family and a future ahead of them. He isn’t sure which is a lie, the mage boy with the fake name in the Circle or the free boy back home in the Anderfels.
  • Once he’s older Anders sees the benefit of no one knowing his true name, it’s the one and only element of him that the Templars do not own nor will they ever be able to get at.
  • Him wanting to tell Karl his real name, but somehow never finding the right moment to do so, but always thinking there would still be time.
  • Anders telling Hawke his real name and hearing them say it. Just once. And it sounds perfect, the way Hawke sounds out each vowel and syllable, in the way the consonants click against their tongue, in how they say it with a small smile and a glint of mischief in their eyes as they kiss him and breathe life back into that long dead memory of a name.