aposthates

[aposthates]

reminder anders is now on @muutos - i'm here to sort thru drafts

[aposthates]

HI SO!! i'm moving anders back over to my multi, @muutos - so catch me over there :3

[aposthates]

HI SO!! i'm moving anders back over to my multi, @muutos - so catch me over there :3

[aposthates]

HI SO!! i'm moving anders back over to my multi, @muutos - so catch me over there :3

[aposthates]

HI SO!! i'm moving anders back over to my multi, @muutos - so catch me over there :3

[aposthates]

HI SO!! i'm moving anders back over to my multi, @muutos - so catch me over there :3

[aposthates]

HI SO!! i'm moving anders back over to my multi, @muutos - so catch me over there :3

[aposthates]

You make me go akjsdhaks → Anders (From Dragon Age 2)

[aposthates]

one brow heightens while the other lowers. his smirk lopsided as ever, as he takes a half-step into the handshake and nods at her assertion. one given amiably, if not slightly guarded. she is a grey warden, after all. the famed hero of ferelden. if she had half a mind, she could try dragging him back. but the way she introduced herself made him doubt that fact enough to bite back the defence. for now. "ah, yes -- alistair. how's he doing these days? still chipper as ever, i hope." anders smirk persists. "it seems my reputation precedes me. unless alistair is particularly detailed in describing grey wardens."

" rumour has it that you were formerly a warden . but i don't believe we've met . " gloves tossed onto the table , a scarred hand reaches out amicably , expectant of a handshake . " bronwyn tabris . and you're anders ? alistair's mentioned you before . "

@aposthates gets a starter !

[aposthates]

@sainthekla. continued.

"karl --" the immediate objection comes from knit eyebrows, sweat scrunched between skin as hands levitate . . . his lip wrinkling in an uncharacteristic scowl of effort, as the frustration overtakes the fatigue. he doesn't want the man to sacrifice his own strength to stint his responsibilities. ( he shouldn't have to. he's been through enough, in the gallows. ) though anders must admit - the weight of the hands and the heat of the body - one he's so accustomed to, and comfortable with - slotted up against his back? it threatens to consume him.. the lull of fatigue and gentleness coaxing him, almost willing him to lean into the temptation.

yet nonetheless, next words are bitten and clipped as they are eventually cut off. ignored. overruled. "i'm fine, i swear --" but the annoyance was not directed at karl. how could it be? it wasn't his fault that he was performing inadequately. justice's influence sometimes such, that in pursuit of the greater goal, they are sometimes rendered inefficient. for how could one have time to heal the ferelden refugees by day, and aid the mage underground by night, if one slept? not to mention running around with hawke, at all hours. but on the other hand, how could he do any of it adequately if he is deprived of rest?

back but a breath away from awaiting chest, stomach . . . warm stability beckons. his eyes close as he feels the threads of magic binding them together, and anders inhales. his body bridging the gap, as he's used so freely.. and if he were not so plagued by fatigue, perhaps his fleeting thoughts regarding how this was almost romantic, would be less so. fatigued, or irritated that he couldn't complete this task himself. rendered a tool, rather than the healer he is. features still strained, yet softened by distance.

the both of them are sent staggered with their parting. anders forth, with hands catching himself on the side of the cot with a wince. mildly concerned with karl's welfare, as he feels the hand on his shoulder, again. pulling him back, with two fingers still on his temple. anders turns to face karl, and the fingers settling on his waist a little too hard are more stabilizing than not. however the look he gives the other mage is caught between soft appreciation and discontent. a knit in his brow as his warm eyes nurse an almost timid smile. "i .. guess this is the part where i admit you might be right." his smile turns apologetic, at that. shrugging. "i suppose i can close down the clinic, for a while..." he has to talk himself into it. "it's seemed to have quieted down a little, compared to this morning." he pauses. brows tugging inwards, earnestly.

"come with me?"

[aposthates]

And if i pay for that with my life... then I pay.

[aposthates]

- I guess you can't really leave the Wardens

Throwback Thursday: Circle Days / Past Relationships / Grey Wardens

for Anders Week 2025 🐱✨

[aposthates]

Dragon Age: Origins - Awakening - 2024 Replay

[aposthates]

❝ i'm doing some of my best work here and you don't even have the decency to roll your eyes at me. honestly it's hurtful. ❞

"ME? ROLL MY EYES AT YOU?" he tisks. "perish the thought, m'lady." anders gestures to the contrary, waving off the idea even with the mischievous smirk upon his face, glinted within amber eyes. "besides -- why would i do that, when frankly, your work speaks for itself?" hip juts out as he crosses his arms, satisfied with himself.

"as far as i'm concerned, you making a fool of yourself is just one of the perks of the job.. and you should know better than anyone that those are few and far between..." it can't be him embarrassing himself all of the time, surely. and faintly, from within his robes, comes an agreeable mewl - at which anders snorts in amusement.

@valorcorrupt

[aposthates]

Day 3 #andersweek: Dreams/Loss/Longing

In my dreams, you're still here.

@andersweek2025

[aposthates]

Dragon Age Awakening II Wending Wood + Scenery

[aposthates]

WHICH GOD CHOOSES YOU?

rot, the god of what remains

She has mushrooms growing between her gnarled fingers, her skin blackened and loose from her body. Every candle gutters and dies as her dark mass pools beneath you. When she rises, it is with the odour of the swamps. Her eye sockets are empty, yet still her gaze rakes through your very soul. "Oh, my dear." Her muddy voice bubbles and froths. "I call you to a harsh life. They will hate you for what you are. Death-keeper. Worm-eaten. Maggot-crawler. But even the gods die." She raises a filth-ridden finger to your forehead and paints her mark - a dirt streak, right to left, cold and clammy against your skin. "Life brings death, and death brings decay. Natural as the fallowing of the fields." Her mouth is a black pit, toothless yet still grinning. You feel your skin growing cold, clammy; tears break out across your skin, yellowed bone poking through, but there is no pain. Just a muddy dampness. "Ssh," she says, holding her finger to your lips. "You are mine, now."

TAGGED BY: @suledine TAGGING: @fadesleft, @sainthekla, @dinnanshiral, @avemaria