#and then i started drawing anders

[skellagirl]

played DA2 for the first time and romanced the possessed bisexual poor little meow meow who's totally down for firebombing a walmart

[minidoodles97]

Finished Dragon Age: Origins recently and finally drew my favorite companions 💖

Anyways this game series has become my latest obsession please I need someone to talk to about it

[blaithnne]

Menaces when they team up. Need to find a dynamic name I can tag them with that doesn’t sound shippy. Does Kaisen work

[hajima-7]

i love when ppl analyze my art in the tags cause... 99% of the time i did something just cause i thought it looked nice OR cause i was trying to avoid drawing something else...

HOWEVER

yall are making me feel smart and i like that so ty 😌💜

[miraculan-draws]

I think of my Hawke as like primarily blue/purple but I think in Act 3 red Hawke...is so sexy. My boy in act 3 is RUTHLESS. He knows it'll come down to him and Meredith in the ring, he's just scheming the time and place. He's pacing like a lion in a cage just WAITING for the actual fight to start. And then your fiancé blows up a Chantry?? YES. THE TIGER IS OUT.

Also I would have liked to be scarier to Sebastian when he threatens Anders. Like. "No, your quarrel IS with me. Do you think you're a faster draw than me? One on one. Do you actually think you'd last a full minute with me? And wherever he goes, I will be there. To you, I'm his shadow. You can't get to him without defeating me. And you can't. "

The Last Straw, I think there are companions that would be AFRAID of Hawke, if they weren't on his side, if he weren't between them and destruction, but he IS destruction!! I want pro-mage/mage Hawke to be frightfully unfamiliar to Varric, who has ignored this side of him for half a decade and now he has no choice but to see it.

[cherryslyce]

Second Son (XVI) | Regulus Black

Series Synopsis: Forbidden from contacting Harry over the summer, you opt to explore the eerie halls of Grimmauld Place where you stumble upon a lonely portrait of the House's second son.

— Chapter Synopsis: The soul-tracking ritual ensues, and Anders has a precarious idea.

Part XV / Part XVII / Series Masterlist

Pairing: Regulus Black x GN!Reader

Notes: I hope you guys enjoy this chapter :). Sincerely hoping this chapter doesn't glitch again.

The excitement of performing the soul-tracking ritual wore off rather quickly when you realized that you had to draw out all of the runes since Anders was unable to crouch down. It was an extensive process and each character had to be extremely precise, causing your fingers to cramp up rather quickly. 

Your feet were feeling fuzzy as the circulation in your legs started to suffer from your position, your knees cracking noisily with every shuffle you took to continue mapping out the ritual circle. 

“I can’t feel my legs anymore.” You whined, upper body flopping down as you braced yourself with your palms. 

Anders grunts from in front of you, “You’re not even halfway there yet, and careful you almost smudged the Dagaz.” His drawl has you huffing, head instinctually snapping to the side to make sure you didn’t actually smear anything. 

“Easy for you to say, you’re sitting on a bloody stool while I’m hunched over, practically shining your boots!” Your exasperation was painted across your face, words spewing out in a mixture of annoyance and jest. 

The man rolls his eyes and rubs a hand over his knee, the joint no doubt aching, “Careful loyal vassal of mine, I am graciously offering you my help after all,” his tone of amusement melts away and he suddenly grows serious, “but it is imperative that we do this quickly.” 

You huff and adjust your position, swinging your head up to look at the man in curiosity, “Why’s that?” 

Anders’ face is darkened with a grim frown, and he peers down at the papers on his laps, “You said that those buddies of yours were going to kill Tom, right?” 

“Yes…” Your uncertain tone has you fidgeting with your wand habitually, eyes flickering between the window of the room and the man in front of you. 

“Well he’s puppeting the inferis with his magic, so they’ll undoubtedly be reduced to husks once he’s gone. So we need to hurry,” Anders elucidates, mouth set into a firm line as he delved deeper into his thoughts. 

Putting a hand up, you blink owlishly at the man, “This is too much information. So, not only are inferis still housing their original souls – but you’re saying that it's Voldemort’s magic that’s tying these souls down to the land of the living?” 

You didn’t know whether you wanted to curse the detestable man into oblivion or begrudgingly allow yourself to be grateful that his existence meant Regulus’ soul was still with you. 

Well, he was chaining down hundreds of souls for his own selfish desires – so you were leaning towards wanting to stick your hand through his head. 

“Only the inferis of his own creation, but yes, in theory.” The man looks mildly impressed at your quick thinking. 

“Would it be a bad idea to owl Harry and ask him to raincheck on his plans to eviscerate the Dark Lord?” You draw a hand to rub at your forehead, a newfound migraine blooming from the back of your neck and straining across your occiput. 

Anders gives you an unimpressed eyebrow raise before waving his hand towards the abandoned quarter-circle behind you, “A terrible idea. Now, let’s continue.” 

You finish drawing the ritual circle an hour after sunset. 

Your hand was shaking uncontrollably, jerking with every cramp that tugged at your muscles. You had begun sweating at one point, causing Anders to limp over and slide both of the windows open. The cool air bristled through the room and circled around all the loose papers, the sounds of rustling and quiet cruising from the older man flowing around the atmosphere. 

As you step back to survey your hard work, you can’t help the smile that plays at your lips: the intricacies of the circle was alluring, practically glowing under the yellow light fixtures above you. The wind began to whistle, and Anders took that as a cue to interrupt your little reprieve, “Looks decent enough.” 

“Decent? Have you gone senile since the last time we chatted? This bloody thing is the embodiment of perfection!” You cry out in incredulity, pondering all the ways you could attach the nifty piece of work to your academic portfolio.

Anders rolls his eyes and organizes his papers, “Yes, yes, you’re practically a Runes Master. Take a picture of it, why don’t ya?” 

Playfully narrowing your eyes at his back, you go to retort, but a knock at the door has you pausing just as you open your mouth. Sharing a look with Anders, you carefully move to investigate, only cracking the door open marginally in order to hide your work. 

It wouldn’t do you much good to have the neighbors thinking you were summoning something. 

“Luna?” Your squawk of surprise only causes the girl to smile, eyes darting over your head as her gaze seems to fade in and out of fixation. 

Bouncing on her heels, she reaches into her pocket, “So, you’re done?” 

“Yeah, I finished drawing up the circle. I think the old man wants to perform the actual ritual tonight though, so I won’t see you until tomorrow.” You exhale tiredly and murmur to yourself, “If I wake up, that is.” 

Luna nods quickly and pulls out a few items from her coat, “I see. Well, I’ve brought some things. I was told that you were in need of this as well by the Humdingers” In her outstretched hands, you see a couple of wrapped sandwiches and a small camera. 

“What?” You gape and slowly reach forwards, “Where did you get a camera from, little moon?” 

The girl smiles brightly and fiddles with her coat buttons, “I asked Asger.” You nod in appreciation and smile at the girl, waving with your full hands as she gracefully skips away towards the house. 

You retreat back into the room and brandish the camera at the expectant man with a victorious smirk, “I have great friends.” 

Anders grunts and reaches for one of the sandwiches, “That’s my camera, kid.” 

You examine the device with your oh so supple fingers, and ignore the urge to stick your tongue out at him, your sensibility winning out for once. As you both eat in silence, your eyes run over the respectable pile of papers in front of Anders, realizing that the man was absolutely serious about publishing your findings. 

“What have you got so far?” You nod towards his papers. 

His eyes quickly flicker beside him, “Magical essences and the imbuing work your boy did, and now I’m drafting up some pages about inferis and their souls.” 

You hum quietly and dust off your hands as you finish the last scraps of your food, feeling more vigilant as your aching stomach settles. The camera was smaller than the jarring flash bulb that Rita Skeeter always had around, and if anything, seemed way more practical. 

It was a bit blocky and had a round lens in the center with a small depression that you could only assume was for the flash. The bottom of the camera had a small rectangular slit — an output. 

“Polaroid 600. Film is as expensive as it gets, so don’t you go and waste it.” Anders’ quietly mumbles as he gets up from his spot, hands reaching for the camera. As he fiddles around with it for a few moments, the top suddenly seems to prop up and he hands it back to you with a satisfied nod, “Think you know how to operate a camera?” 

“I’m not a dunce, thank you very much.” Your riposte causes him to roll his eyes as he gestures for you to move towards the circle. Despite your initial indignance, it took you a few moments of consideration and blind thumbing until you were confident enough to snap the photo. As you (luckily) manage to get a good shot, you conceal your surprise as the photo immediately begins to peek out of the bottom slit, slowly being spat out. 

How convenient.

You nimbly pull the photo out once it seems to stop sputtering, and hand the camera over to Anders before peering at the developing square film. Slowly, you watch as the outlines of the ritual circle bloom into visibility. 

You take a couple more moments to run your eyes over the photo before placing it in Anders’ awaiting palm. The man hobbles over to his table and clips the photo to one of the pages, placing the camera on the stack of papers afterwards. 

“Okay, now put your boy’s photo in the center—next to the Uruz symbol.” 

You wordlessly comply with Anders’ words, and slowly tiptoe out of the circle, eyes never straying from Regulus’ face. The man moves to the opposite side of the circle, and pats at the air, gesturing for you to sit down. 

Watching from your position on the floor, Anders begins to chant evenly, eyes closed as you feel him begin to gather his magic to pool across the symbols. The faint steely nature of his magical signature washes over you, and you clasp your hands together in your lap as you feel an immense pressure begin to weigh on the room. Regulus’ photo gives a faint jolt, then another, and then another, until the whole paper begins to vibrate. 

You watch in awe as the photo slowly rises into the air, the Uruz symbol glowing brightly with a faint red hue. In the blink of an eye, the photo jerks sideways and falls onto the Hic symbol to your left just as Anders’ chanting ceases. 

“Hic? Here? What does it mean, here?” Your questions seem to spill out uncontrollably, and you see the older man give the photo a look of consideration. 

“I’m not quite sure. Usually, souls still in the realm of the living are classified as Vivus,” Anders mutters, hand coming up to rub at his chin, “Kid, is that ring of yours imbued with his magic?” 

You nod and reach for your ring, fingers running over the two snakes that you’ve grown accustomed to. Anders sighs before slapping his hand over his entire face, dragging it down as he seems to wage an internal war with himself. 

“You said your boy was in a cave?” 

You raise an eyebrow at him, and nod slowly, “Yes…and so are hundreds of other inferis, why?” 

The man meets you gaze with a determined look as you slowly stand up, hands fiddling with your ring. 

“Well, let’s go fetch your boy.” 

The journey back to the cave was bittersweet, and you almost lost your footing as you apparated to the very spot you had before, except this time with a rather grumpy presence by your side. Water batted against the rock you were rooted to, droplets of water flying into your face periodically. You could barely make out the view in front of you as the moon faintly illuminated the waves.

As you apparate with Anders to the shore, you feel a lump grow in your throat. Your heart was beating violently against your chest, and a cold sweat started to break through the surface of your skin. 

The muted crunching of sand and rocks under your shoes grounded you to reality as the void of the cave engulfed you, washing away the sea of stars that had been beaming at you from above.

“Lumos.” 

As you extended your wand in front of you, you had half the mind to be cautious of potential bloodthirsty death eaters or one psychotic dark lord, realizing that perhaps the certifiable man would be on the upkeep for his horcruxes. 

Soon, you both reached the rounded end of the cave, and Anders shoots you an unimpressed look. Holding a hand up at him, you extinguish your lumos and bring your wand to your palm, “Secare.”

Dragging the tip of your wand against your palm, the spell slowly cuts your skin enough to draw blood. Satisfied with your work, you swipe your bloodied cut against the damp rocks behind you. 

“Lumos.” 

The wall of charcoal stone crumbles away like you remembered, and you’re immediately met with a wave of faint heat. 

Remnants of your fire storm from last time?

“Bloody hell,” Anders croaks from behind you, eyes glimmering at the sight of the sumptuous crystal clusters. The milky geodes sent a shiver down your spine as you started to draw a resemblance between their geometric planes and the cloudy skin of the inferis. 

Making your way through the dark ventricle of minerals, you slowly emerge into the belly of the cave, the familiar void of water just meters away from you. 

“We’re here. They’re in there,” your voice falls into a whisper, “he’s in there.”

Anders steps out from behind you and pulls out his own wand, the worn ashen wood barely visible in the light of your lumos. Tilting his head towards you, he looks at you with a solemn gaze before asking, “His full name?” 

“Regulus Arcturus Black.” 

Nodding, the man turns towards the lake and moves his wand counterclockwise, “Prodire Regulus Arcturus Black.” 

Nothing happens for a few seconds, until abruptly — something breaks through the surface of the water and flies towards your awaiting figures, stilling to a stop in front of Anders as if colliding with an invisible wall. Your hand swings to cover your mouth as your eyes trail along the spindly creature: its body was slack in the air, arms stiff like milky needles, chest unnaturally thin with a protruding rib cage that threatened to burst through bruised skin, and a rawboned face veiled by the darkness. 

This thing was Regulus?

You felt your world begin to tip and spin, eyes burning then blurring rapidly. Shivers wracked through your chest as sobs seemed to well in your throat. Closing your eyes, you try to steady your breathing, but the flashing image of Regulus’ face and then the sight of the horrid creature infiltrate your head. 

It feels as though a millennia of your discombobulation passes by before you feel a firm grip on your shoulder, the gesture helping to keep you upright on your feet. 

“Come on, kid,” Anders’ face comes into view and you see his eyes soften uncharacteristically, his mouth set into a hard frown. Your eyes stray to the side and you see that the man had summoned a cloth to cover the inferi during your small episode, the lumpy bundle now floating in the air nearby. 

Nodding quickly, you swallow harshly before spinning around, “Right. Sorry.” Your whisper is met with a comforting silence, and you appreciated more than ever, Anders’ ability to know when words weren’t needed. 

As you both stiffly trek back through the cave, you begin to feel a weight of foreboding blanket your body. Picking up the pace, you step out of the mouth of the cave with sweaty hands, eyes darting around wildly. 

“Hurry,” your choked whisper confuses the older man, but he abides nonetheless. As you grab his forearm and hesitantly grab a part of the covered inferi, you hear a faint warping echo from off to the side. 

Gasping quietly into the chilly air, you barely catch a glimpse of the familiar figure before you’re tugged away by the distortion of apparition. You can barely breathe as your heart seems to stutter uncontrollably. 

You land back inside the research room with Anders and Regulus’ inferi, not even noticing how cramped the space now was as you tried to quell your panic. 

“Kid? What’s wrong?” Anders floats the clothed figure down into the center of the circle as you buckle to the ground, blood flushing cold. 

“Voldemort. He was there.” You gasp out. 

The man jolts to a paralyzed freeze as his eyes widen comically, his heart no doubt beginning to race as fast as yours. You shake your head jerkily and wave your hand aimlessly, “He didn’t see you. Or well, you were covered by the cloth, but he definitely noticed me.” 

The dryness of your mouth was beginning to prickle and itch, your skin suddenly feeling too tight on your body. You were sure he recognized you, after all, he was always in Harry’s head. 

“Then we just have to hurry a bit.” Anders' steady words have you snapping your attention over to him, confused as to why he was so calm now. Seeing your distraught gaze, he sighs, “He won’t come for you for now, I’m sure he is focused on your other friends. Besides, even if he were, he has no idea where to even look.” 

Nodding with an unconvinced frown, you feel your fear melt away into a stony resolve, eyes flickering over to look at the figure laying in the circle. 

“Thank you, Anders.” Your dry whisper has him cracking a small smile. 

“Thank me when your boy is back up and running.” 

You were robotically drawing more rune characters, eyes unfocused as you were too entranced by your thoughts. You weren’t sure what the older man was planning as he hadn’t explained to you what this additional ritual entailed, but you were determined to make it work. 

As you complete the last etching, head rising up to look at the concentrated man, he finally breaks the tense atmosphere, “I don’t know if it’ll work, but the combination of his soul and your ring might just do the trick.”

Tilting your head to the side, you try not to sound too hopeful, “So, he’ll be completely recovered if it works?” 

“Not completely, he’ll need time to rejuvenate his magical core. This would be unprecedented, kid. I don’t have all the answers, and I can’t promise that it will work, but I am going to do my best.” His eyes are unwavering, back straightened with coiled tension. 

You nod hastily, knowing that you were both pretty much running on wishes. As Anders double checks your rune work, you slowly slip your ring off your finger, cringing as the cold air brushes against your naked finger. 

You hadn’t ever taken it off before. 

Placing the cool band next to the covered figure, you step out of the circle and clench your hands. Anders nods in confirmation before stepping out as well, slowly hobbling over to stand on the opposite side of the circle. 

“Let your magic funnel out into the circle as well. You won’t need to chant.” Anders' brief words have you nodding, and you slowly shuffle from leg to leg, fatigue starting to seep into your veins. 

The chanting begins soon after, and you allow the metaphorical valves of your magical core to open, feeling the coolness of your magic sweeping to tangle with Anders’ metallic magic. Both of your magical signatures dance around the circle and collect in the center, flexing together above the figure. The entire rune circle seems to radiate in shades of reds and stormy greys before blazing into an endless black.  

Suddenly, you feel magic seep from the clothed figure — a deep, harrowing magic that roused with a small rumble before erupting into a suffocating cloud that could only be described as numbing. 

It was nothing like Regulus’ magic, which meant that this corrupted energy belonged to Voldemort. You grit your teeth as you flush out more of your magic to try and drive away Voldemort’s lingering signature, the psychopath’s magic seeming to screech violently at your attempt. 

The prolonged battle with the stifling magic finally ends as the dark cloud is ripped away from you, pulled in all directions towards the additional runes you drew, the characters radiating in almost a blinding way before ripping apart the corrupted magic. 

The once dark circle stews into a cool grey before disintegrating into a pale green, the light beating melodically. You watch in wonderment as the magic in the ring bubbles into your magic, intertwining with yours before slowly clutching at Anders’ as well. Your potent whirl of combined magic slowly descends towards the clothed figure, causing it to jerk wildly. 

The cloth shuffles with the movements and you see it begin to pull upwards as if the inferi was arching towards your magic. Suddenly, the strings of magic slam into the clothed figure, sending shockwaves throughout the room. 

As you hear a few books tumble to the ground at the energy, the figure twitches once more before falling still again. Anders continues to chant for a few more moments as the circle flares into a blinding white light before it, too, simmered into nothingness. 

You nearly topple over in exhaustion as the energy draws back into your body, the synergies of magic in the room evaporating almost instantaneously. Anders wipes his forehead with his sleeve, and shakily stumbles over to his table for stability. 

“Did it work?” Your voice is crackly as a sharp, sticky pain climbs up your neck. 

The man huffs and glances at you before slowly making his way towards the figure, grunting as he tries to crouch down. He tugs the cloth upward and peers inside, expression unreadable. 

“Well?” 

Anders looks up at you, eyebrows drawn, “I have a lot more to write about.” 

Leaping forward at his words, you rip away the cloth slightly to expose the figure’s head, and you nearly pass out on the spot. 

“It worked. It worked. It worked.” Your quiet chants spurs on a wave of tears as you slowly run your fingers over Regulus’ face. The boy looked picturesque in his sleeping state, face no longer emaciated and bruised, but now mirroring his appearance from when he was just a portrait in your pocket. 

You brush his curls aside and resist the urge to just keel over and fall asleep on him, your magical exhaustion echoing through your bones. 

“Do you have something else on you that’s imbued with his magic?” Anders’ quiet words have you snapping out of your euphoric state, eyes drawn up in confusion. Seeing your perplexity, he clarifies, “He might not remember you, this ritual simply revitalized him and unchained his soul. He might only remember the events before his death.” 

You pause at the revelation and sit up straighter, hands dropping to your sides. Gaping for a few moments, your mind whirs as you try and grasp for the right words, “Uh, wait, yes. I have these.” Your hands fish into your pockets and you pull out the tattered pieces of the golden portrait frame, outstretching them for the man to see. 

“His portrait frame?” Anders’ eyebrows shoot up in stupefaction. 

Nodding, you slowly drop the pieces into his rough palm, “It doesn’t matter.” The man frowns, puzzled, so you continue, “As long as he’s okay, it doesn’t matter if he doesn’t remember me.” 

Straightening up from his position, he stares at the pieces of wood in his hand, “He just might remember… if these are truly imbued with his magic.” Looking up, you see skepticism flicker in his eyes, “Are you too beat for another ritual?” 

“You should be asking yourself that, old man.”

You don’t remember much that happens afterwards. 

As you crack your eyes open, lingering fatigue weighing on your eyelids, you are keenly aware of a hand running across your shoulders. 

“Reg?” Your voice comes out as a strained whisper. 

A familiar face pops into your line of sight, “He’s okay, just resting upstairs.” Luna’s smile warms your chest, and you resist the urge to turn over and bury yourself into the warmth of her arms. 

Your body was incredibly sore from the activities of the previous day, and you were sure that your magical core was rolling about, emptily inside of you. The longer you laid, the more groggy you grew as the air started to warm against your skin. 

Gently pushing up from the mattress underneath you, you run a hand down your place as Luna shifts to stand up. The girl helps you shuffle upstairs and towards the bathroom, quietly insisting that you wash up as she prepares tea for you. 

Sluggishly washing up, you take a moment to peer into the cloudy mirror, raising an eyebrow at the sight of heavy bags under your eyes. Your shoulders sagged from exhaustion, and the sound of your grumbling stomach prompted you to make your way towards the kitchen. 

As you slowly trudged into the room, eyes squinting from the beams of sunlight that flitted through the window, you see Asger approach you with a plate in hand. 

“Good afternoon. Dad’s in his research shed right now.” The man extends the plate to you, and your mouth waters at the sight of the hearty lunch. You nod in thanks and drop down onto an awaiting chair, gaze straying towards one of the closed doors down the hall. 

Asger, seeing your restless ministrations, chuckles before answering your unvoiced question, “He’s in there. Hasn’t awakened yet, but Dad said it’s only a matter of time. He's recovering quite fast.” 

Right, your rituals worked. Both of them. It was starting to come back now, and you could feel the weight of the frame pieces and your ring in your pocket, both now depleted of Regulus’ magic. 

Scarfing down your meal, and ignoring Asger’s cringe, you start to mentally debate on whether you should visit Anders first, or Regulus. Luna places a mug in front of you, and plops down into the seat next to yours, fingers fiddling with a few strings of yarn. 

Regulus won out, of course. 

As you dismiss yourself with endless words of gratitude to your two friends, you slowly make your way into the room Regulus was resting in. You cross through the threshold, mug in hand, and immediately surrender yourself to the comforting wave of magic that envelops you. 

The warm magic — Regulus’ magic, brings tears to your eyes, and you have to take a few moments to compose yourself. The aching hollowness in your heart, the one you had grown accustomed to in the following months after the destruction of his portrait, seems to sing with inklings of joy. 

You were still in a state of disbelief, mind reeling from the fact that you not only discovered uncharted branches of magic, but also that you got Regulus back. No, not only you — Sirius was going to get Regulus back, too. 

The boy in question was laid on a makeshift bed, covered by a fleece blanket. Anders took up the great responsibility of clothing him after your flustered realization that he was nude, the man murmuring tidbits about how he did the same for Asger when the younger man fractured his hip years ago. 

You walk over and sit down by his side, brushing your hand over his hair. 

Things would change now. They would be better. 

You spend a long while just sitting by the boy’s side, mind still unconvinced that he wasn’t just a figment of your imagination. 

After a long thread of thoughts that devolved into heart wrenching what if’s, you decide to pay a visit to Anders, immensely grateful for his help and wisdom. The sunny skies slowly dimmed as clouds drifted by, the air chilling to sooth the faint migraine that still sunk its claws into your head. 

As you make your way into the research room, you can’t mask the smile that stretches across your lips. Anders was hunched over his table, hand moving furiously across a sea of pages as he tried to document every droplet of theory and fact on the papers. Not wanting to interrupt the man’s train of thought, you linger by the doorway before slowly teetering towards a fallen stack of books. 

You organize the endless towers of tomes for a few minutes before Anders takes note of your presence as he goes to stretch his back. 

“Finally awake?” His voice is light, and you could see the remnants of engrossment creeping in his eyes. He truly did have a passion for this branch of research.  

You nod and grin brightly at the man, “Sure am. Now, are you going to accept my thank you?” 

Anders grunts and waves you off with an amused eye roll — the closest thing to a “you’re welcome” in his language, and turns back to his papers, “Anyway, another owl came for you this morning. The letter should be on your stool.” 

As the man resumes his writing, you peer around to try and find the envelope, clicking your tongue when you find the paper beaming at you from across the room. 

Dear Padfoot’s pup, 

We hope you are well. At first, we weren’t going to accept the offer, but some unexpected events happened that forced us away. We are safe now with the frightening widow. We’ve gotten two more, but now the Goblins hate us. 

Stay safe. We are going to remain here until we are forced to confront the darkness. Unfortunately, we fear that it will be soon. 

We miss you. Padfoot keeps whining, we think he misses you most. 

-Prongslet and co. 

You laugh lightly at the contents of the letter, and you fold the paper back up. Good to know that Harry and the others were safe with the Contessa at the very least. As you stuff the paper back in the envelope, you see another folded paper sidled against the wall of the envelope. 

Hello lost friend of mine, 

A certain dragon of ours is growing restless, we fear that his blood father is in trouble with a certain man. The Carrows are a nightmare, and it appears that many students are disappearing with every passing day. Theodore keeps shooting down my (entirely plausible) theory that those twin professors of ours are hiding their bodies in a dark closet somewhere. 

I’ve received a letter from my mother informing me of the rearrangements at home, and I must say, it was quite a surprise. I haven’t heard back from you since you’ve departed, and I almost thought you were dead for a while. Glad to hear that you aren’t. 

Theodore says hi, and he wants to know all the research you’ve done. Our dragon also says hi and that he hopes you received his last letter. 

I hope to hear from you soon. 

(Reply to me.)

-B

“Was it a tawny owl?” Your question rings out into the quiet atmosphere, drawing Anders out of his work. 

The man gives you a grunt of confirmation and you nod in satisfaction. It would appear that Harry is corresponding to you via Contessa Zabini, the woman no doubt telling Blaise to forward the letter to you along with his. 

Merlin, what a strange web of dynamics.

As you tuck away the papers into your pockets, a knock has you spinning on your heel in curiosity. Anders barely even looks up from his work as you make your way to the door, a wave of deja vu slamming into you. 

Opening the door, you see Luna smiling brightly at you, similar to her airy demeanor from the night before.

Before you can get a word out, the girl quickly supplies you with news that has air fleeing from your lungs, “He’s awake.” 

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[akpaley]

You should totally draw Anders and Gale making out. #discourse

-completely anonymous source

Starting off with this. Wow. I wonder who this could have been. Almost as mysterious as when this could have been sent and whether I answered it in a timely manner. We'll really never know.

[firelxdykatara]

Dragon Age 4 looks amazing, that gameplay trailer had me on the edge of my seat and I cannot fucking wait for the game to drop. Somewhat less enthused for the inevitable wave of fandom discourse that's gonna rear it's ugly head, especially given how BG3 went over, but whatever. (Also I hate that the name changed to 'The Veilguard', not just because 'Dreadwolf' was cool as fuck but the 'the' throws things off. DAV looks better as an acronym than DATV. But whatever whatever no one consulted ME on this, it's fine, I'm fine.)

It did make me start thinking about Solas again and how little nuance the fandom approached him with last time, and it's just funny because like... it's very easy to understand where Solas is coming from. How he sees what he is planning as necessary, as fixing an ancient wrong that he has always meant to put right.

Will people die? Yes, and he thinks that's unfortunate--and, according to him in the trailer, he took the precautions he could to minimize that loss of life as much as possible. But he's not doing any of this with the specific aim to kill people or 'do genocide'--that was never his goal.

He is trying to fix something that he broke countless ages ago.

As he says, 'the veil is a wound'--a wound that he ripped open in the very fabric of space and time, and which he is trying now to heal.

And the thing is, he is ancient. He does not conceive of time the way mortals do, nor the importance and significance of mortal lives. I would like to think that romanced solas vs unromanced will have some affect on the way he goes about things, because falling in love was entirely unexpected and had to alter his views at least a little. Not enough to sway him from his course, but perhaps enough to make him feel the coming losses more keenly than he otherwise would. But even failing that, the connections he made during Inquisition are clearly not nothing to him--Varric is able to draw his attention, keep him distracted, might even have been on the verge of talking him down, we don't know. But as easily as he shattered Bianca, he could've killed Varric to end the threat he posed, and he didn't.

Mortal lives mean something to him now that they didn't when he set out at the beginning of Inquisition to tear down the veil with no regard for the mortal lives he would destroy in the process. And I'm wondering if those very safeguards are what release the big bads when Rook fucks up his ritual and that leads into the rest of the game. But anyway, my point is this: Solas does not look at life the way someone with a mortal lifespan does. He can't! Modern Thedas is the burned out shell of a building that he once set fire to without realizing what the consequences would be--and he is determined to rebuild it, because no matter what life has sprung up in the cracks of the burned out husk, his original fault was destroying the life that had been there to begin with.

People don't tend to overly worry about the insects and birds nests and whatever else they might have to bulldoze through when it comes to tearing down some condemned structure and rebuilding in its place, and that's how Solas views the modern world of Thedas and the lives within it. And I get disagreeing with him and wanting to stop him at any cost, but I don't get assigning maliciousness or bloodthirst to his motivations when there's no reason to believe he sees this as anything less than a tragic necessity.

Then again, I think Anders was right too so, y'know. But one bomb lobbed into the fandom commonroom at a time lmao.

[glitterrosesnzz]

oh right w/anderer s/imulanka snz stuff-

well mainly i just think its a very fun opportunity for caretaking first and foremost. something about the W/anderer having to deal with N/avia, N/ilou, K/irara, AND the T/raveler all being concerned about him all at once is just. well on the one hand- angst since W/anderer has not really had much caretaking in a while, on the other hand absolute hilarity of them trying to wrangle W/anderer into letting himself be cared for-

this is mainly in the case of W/anderer being "sick" though- which, i've been imagining, it'd be so fun if some of Mini D/urin's hallucinatory fog breath stuff got like... stuck in the W/anderer's system. y'know like the swirl reaction thing i use in my fics and hcs- so like, W/anderer's anemo vision isn't working quite right, he might be getting a little bit of a fever (due to it making his puppet systems have to work harder to run properly), in-animate things he touches in the S/imulanka world might start turning into blocks, and if he actually lets a sneeze out, he will breathe out the hallucinatory fog- except this time it's his memories, not Mini D/urin's.

we COULD also consider an allergy scenario in here too. i think it'd be especially funny if we added in the T/raveler not really knowing what an allergen is as well- like they've learned flowers can set it off at this point but not much beyond that. it'd be hysterical really if W/anderer was allergic to something in the S/imulanka world and everyone was like throwing out random suggestions of what it could be and T/raveler was just standing there like "???? i thought only flowers did that...." (it's ends up not being so much an allergy- as much as it is W/anderer being the only one who can smell the ink on the forest creatures/the ink that they drink, and he's sensitive to it. it doesn't help that N/ilou in particular smells very strongly of it. ...He's also the only one who can drink it and will do so despite this + the others warning him off of it).

oh AND!!! photic reflex thought- Mini D/urin wanting to like mess around with the W/anderer's hat, and after a few close calls where it almost falls off the W/anderer makes a sort of disgruntled noise and gives it to him- and then immediately moves to hide in the shade of N/avia's umbrella (parasol) before the sunlight can even touch his eyes. (T/raveler makes a joke about him being a vampire that no-one else gets (does the concept of vampires exist in T/eyvat...)). anyways the way he's kinda staying so close to N/avia is drawing a TON of suspicion- at some point she moves when he's not expecting it, he gets sunlight in his eyes, and immediately has a little fit of sneezes- N/avia pauses for a moment at the sight and then shifts to hold her umbrella above him so that he's in the shade again-

[jazzmckay]

soft little fenders ficlet because the mood struck <3

*

Anders has been growing his hair out. It hangs past his shoulders now; sometimes he ties it back, other times he leaves it free, lets it fall where it may, not minding when the wind swirls it into tangles. On such occasions, Fenris finds himself running his fingers through it, gauntlet removed and touch gentle, easing the knots loose. Anders' hair is soft, and running his fingers through it feels nice.

From the smile Anders always gives him after, it feels nice to him too, so Fenris keeps doing it, even if he is unused to--and therefore unsure about--giving such simple affections.

It's warm enough on the northern border between the Free Marches and Antiva that Anders ties his hair up in a messy bun more often than not when he goes to work in the tiny garden they've started behind the cabin they're currently inhabiting. It's a nice cabin, and easily defensible, too--they may stay here longer than they've stayed anywhere else.

While Anders tends to the plants, Fenris fills a wash basin and cleans the pile of laundry that has gathered over the past week. His attention is divided, half on his soapy hands, half on Anders. Some strands of his hair fall loose from the tie. If one gets in his face, he blows and shakes it away, still intent on his work. His hands move with practised motions, firm and precise.

By the time Fenris is pinning up their clothes to dry, Anders is finished. He takes the washing basin with him when he goes inside, off to wash up himself.

Fenris follows once he's done his task, and finds Anders sitting on the end of the bed they share, his hands clean and working a brush through his untied hair.

The sight of him makes Fenris still just to take him in, even though he's been treated to the sight of Anders relaxed, in loose, plain clothes, and with the lines of his face smoothed out, many times now. Almost every day, as Kirkwall fades into the past, relinquishing its hold.

Fenris finally steps over to him, and Anders lifts his face to meet his gaze. "Beautiful mage," Fenris murmurs as he cups Anders' cheek and leans down to kiss him.

Anders' fingers clutch the back of Fenris' tunic as he returns the kiss, holding onto him. He always does something of the sort when Fenris initiates, like he needs him closer, needs him to linger as long as possible.

Fenris draws his fingers through Anders' combed hair, both enjoying the sensation and as a gesture of reassurance. When they part from the kiss, Fenris takes the brush from Anders' hand and settles on the mattress with him, picking up from where he interrupted Anders' brushing.

As he passes the brush through Anders' hair, Anders goes boneless, shoulders completely loose and head tipped forward. Fenris can't resist sweeping his hair aside to kiss his nape, which earns him a soft sound of approval.

The last of the tangles are smoothed out easily, then Fenris sets the brush aside on the patchy blanket, bringing both hands up to gather Anders' hair within them. The tie is around Anders' wrist; he would hand it over, if Fenris offered to put his hair back up, but that hadn't crossed Fenris' mind, initially. He only wants to touch, and wants to soothe.

Still, an unexpected inclination comes over him as he's running his fingers through. He parts Anders' hair into a few narrow strands, beginning to weave them in a way that starts forming a braid, even though Fenris has never learned how. At least, he has no recollection of learning how, but muscle memory takes over, and soon Anders' hair is pulled into an intricate braid that starts wide and tapers to a tiny point.

"I didn't know you could do this," Anders says as he raises a hand and brushes his fingers blindly over the braid, feeling the weave of it.

"Neither did I," Fenris admits. "Maybe... I did this for Varania, or our mother. A long time ago."

Anders turns enough to look at him, taking his hand in a comforting hold.

Thinking of his family doesn't sting as much as it did after Varania's betrayal. Fenris is almost at peace with it, almost able to accept a past he doesn't remember but was still important to him, once upon a time. Regardless, Anders is his family now, and the others too, even if they've mostly gone separate ways. Anders is the one here with him, holding his hand and looking at him with love in his eyes.

"I like it," Anders says. "Will you do it for me again?"

Fenris nods. "Whenever you like."

Anders smiles and shifts closer, leaning in to rest against Fenris' chest. Fenris wraps his arm around his shoulders, pulling him even closer, as eager as Anders always is for there to be no space left between them.

[skadilothbrok]

Given The Chance - Chapter 3

As he carried you with ease to his bedroom, your lips barely left his. When he moved to open his door you moved your attention to the side of his neck. The door was opened and shut with more force than necessary once you were inside. He moved you from him and practically threw you down onto his bed. You grinned up at him as he stood watching you with pure desire burning in his eyes.

“Careful” you warned “I bite”.

“Promise?” his grin widened as he crawled over the top of you, moving your legs back around his waist. He ran his hands all over your body as you moved yours to the bottom of his shirt, tugging it up impatiently. He sat back as he quickly lifted his top over his head and threw it across the room. Your heart thundered at the sight of him and you reached for his chest, only to have him grab your hands and pin them to the pillows beside your head.

You pouted in protest and bucked your hips against him. “Patience” he smirked down at you before moving to capture your lips. You bit playfully at his bottom lip, earning a groan from him. “You’re a menace” he moved his attention to the buttons of your shirt, popping them open torturously slow as he kept one hand pinning yours above your head.

The cool air hit your exposed skin, and seconds later he was trailing a line of kisses down your body. He finally released your hands and you were quick to bury one in his hair while the other scratched lightly at his back. He continued his trail lower until he shifted past where you wanted him, placing a kiss at your knee. He glanced up to give you a sinful smile before he slowly started placing kisses towards your thigh.

“You know, patience has never been one of my virtues” you complained. He laughed lightly before biting down on your inner thigh. The slight shock of pain was exquisite and you had to bite your lip to stop the noise trying to escape you. Seconds later his breath ghosted over your sensitive flesh and you felt your own breath draw in with anticipation.

A knock came at the door moments later.

“Ignore it” Anders insisted as he pulled at your knickers.

The knocking came again, more insistent this time. He growled in frustration before leaving you on the bed to storm over to the door. He pulled it just wide enough to see out “what!?”

“This a bad time” you heard Gus and could imagine the stupid grin on his face. When Anders only replied with an agitated look he continued “the boss has called an emergency meeting, we leave in 5”. You silently cursed the worst timing in the universe and dropped your head back against the pillows in frustration. “Oh, and bring Y/n too” Gus laughed before you heard him walking away from the door.

Anders slammed the door before knocking his head against it, then turning back to you. By the look on his face you thought he was debating ignoring the prime minister entirely.

“Serves you right for playing with me” you moved from the bed and made your way over to him and leaned next to his ear “it is however completely unfair to me”. You took his earlobe between your teeth and tugged lightly.

His hands found your hips and he tried to pull you against him, but you stepped back out of reach and moved to pick up his shirt from the corner of the room. He remained locked in place as you pushed it against his chest. You met his eyes and almost felt sorry for the torment you saw in them. Almost.

Not breaking the eye contact you redid the buttons of your shirt and readjusted your skirt. He uttered something under his breath before tugging his shirt over his head. “Time to go” you smirked as you reached past him for the doorhandle. He reluctantly moved to allow you to open the door before turning to pull you back against his chest.

“Soon as we’re done with Churchill, we’re coming straight back here” he growled against your neck.

“Of course,” you grinned “you’ve got to make it up to me”. Before you could lose your own restraint, you stepped out of his grasp and made your way down the corridor.

Gus, Apple and Marjorie stood waiting at the bottom of the stairs. “If looks could kill, I think you’d be a dead man Gus” Apple laughed as he took in Anders’ frustrated appearance behind you. You smiled despite your own frustration at the interruption.

“Was it a bad time” Marjorie moved to link her arm with yours as you headed for the door.

“Couldn’t have been worse” you sighed.

[spacetravels]

i am so unwell about dragon age and knowing u from the choices fandom i got so excited ur playing soooo what did u think of dao? da2? who did you romance and what was ur character like? how are u liking dai? got pics of ur inky? 🥺 (only if u want!! no pressure to share ofc 💖) i myself am an alistair anders solas girlie 😔

WEHHH thank you… veilguard looks so good i have to speedrun dai but man all of you who’ve been waiting since like 2014 are my heroes cuz i’m just gonna trot in like lalala… (has been here like three months)

dao is my favorite by far i think… i’m easy to please LOL it has my favorite story and i love the cast so much ;_;/ i played warrior lady cousland so i did marry alistair HUHU he’s my favorite romance across all the games but i wanna replay so bad to romance morrigan and have a diff silly little world state (trying not to think about doing this until after dav LOL) but god . HoF is just so so funny and i had so much fun…

da2!! i played blue warrior hawke <3 i liked running around kirkwall LMAO i think it was really fun to just contain the story around this one city and just hang out with my best friends 🥹 but goddamn. no one warned me about everything hawke goes thru LIKE 😭 HAVE A VACATION!!! i didn’t romance anyone though in my first playthru HAHA i kind of regret it though cuz by the end i wanted to romance isabela but i also think for my hawke i was happy to not have had a romance cuz it makes sense for my thoughts about her … like she’s just happy to still be alive and wants to do right by everyone who’s ever believed in her so she never thought about it but maybe after all gets said and done she’d seek out izzy… one of those real Slow burns in my brain heehee.. (pro mage .. btw)

AS FOR DAI !!! i’m terrible with open world games. NFKSJFKSKFKL but i sincerely am enjoying it cuz i’m following a quest guide so i don’t lose my marbles… it’s funny cuz i like. technically knew the most abt dai before playing through the games cuz [gestures at solas] but that’s alright cuz most of it has actually been a treat and a surprise :-) just not. the ending

my inky’s name is deirdre & she’s a human rogue 🙂‍↕️ i don’t have pics rn i’m at work JFKSLDK but ! kind of a little shit. it’s nice that everyone humors her stupid ass. as for romance…. blackwall…. he compels me… something is wrong with him and i like it <3

i’m close to starting wicked eyes & wicked hearts but i’ve been taking the time to explore places and do side quests stuff cuz i wanna be overleveled LOL and i need to switch up my groups more. except for varric. that’s my emotional support companion

BUT WWWWW i wanna draw my inky more & more da fanart when i’m not swamped with other projects and/or playing dragon age & fields of mistria bahahah.. i’ll remember to share more thoughts as i play 🥹🫰

[lvebug]

name: andie eliot nickname(s): ands, anders, dee, shortstack, blondie relationship status: 9/10 you could label it as "it's complicated" gender: cis female romantic orientation: bi preferred pet names: love is one of the ones that she uses the most for her partners, but for which she prefers & which she uses it's really a matter of her and her partner and what the two of them like together. opinion on true love: yes. very much, but not so much in the "one soulmate for everyone" way and more in the concept of how big and overwhelming and all-encompassing love is

opinion on love at first sight: it's a little bit more attraction at first sight, but it is very common for andie to look at someone and immediately be struck by them. usually it's a moment of personality—someone helping her with her luggage on the train, a person dancing to their music while waiting to cross the street, someone dressed in a really intentional and fun outfit. it's not.... usually actual love at first sight but she does fall a bit in love with these people for a while.

how ‘romantic’ are they?: andie is absolutely very romantic. her favorite gesture is flowers, making/bringing coffee to someone when she thinks they will appreciate it, sending texts with things that remind her of that person. she lives an extremely hectic life, but she's always thinking about the people she loves so romance for her is often finding those ways to remind people how she feels during the small & in-between moments. she is also romantic in the sense that she sees romance in everything around her, not just her own actions.

ideal physical traits: okay i didn't think andie had any specifically but like most of her ships are people with brown/dark hair & short. someone with a nice smile is always a big draw for her also. but its really how someone lives in their skin that makes them attractive more than specific physical traits.

ideal personality traits: kind kind kind. above all else andie loves someone who is kind and good-hearted. & someone who can make her laugh and she has fun with.

unattractive physical traits: smoking sorry dallas xoxo

unattractive personality traits: meanness, callousness, cruelty, easiest way to make andie not like you.

ideal date: she's a big fan of activity-based dates where they go and do something together do they have a type?: nerds & heroes. literally if she thinks u have a good heart and/or you're nerdy and passionate and she can sit with her chin in her hands looking at you like 🥺🥰

average relationship length: a few months to a year. somewhere in that range andie's secret identity has either been discovered, or it hasn't been and if it hasn't been + she cannot bring herself to tell them then the guilt starts tearing andie apart until the relationship crumbles

preferred non-sexual intimacy: laughing together

commitment level: one million thousand percent committed at all times

opinion of public affection: strong past relationships?:

tagging: @raisedcold, @danversiism, @leagueprem, @tartt9, @gambieau, @flashen tagged by: @inhcritance

[bearsgrove]

🌿🌿 MUTUAL CATCH UP 🌿🌿

i was tagged by @rolangf thank u!! :^)

LAST SONG: easy way out by low roar. had a bit of a low roar moment. evening. night. swimming in the vibes

CURRENTLY WATCHING: started watching better call saul a few days ago. its alright so far but i do like breaking bad more. idk what is everyone on about when they say bcs is better. i mean im not even done with the 1st season yet so maybe it will pick up but so far i dont see it. that being said i dont think its bad im really enjoying it but yeah

THREE SHIPS: i really really hate the word ships/shipping. in 2024? please let this die already lets all leave it in 2010s tumblr. for the love of god. im sick of shipping and the whole culture around it and all the associations. rant over. i cant really think of any actual pairings rn other than just. fenris and anders and morrigan romances from dragon ages. obviously i like my own characters with their respective partners but i dont "ship" them. they just Exist.

FAVORITE COLOR: pine green

CURRENTLY CONSUMING: not much. wish i was. things are just kinda. numb and empty. hmm

FIRST SHIP: cant remember my memory only goes back around 2 days everything beyond that is void

PLACE OF BIRTH: central/eastern europe. sl*v*kia

CURRENT LOCATION: yep. still here. sadly unfortunately tragically

RELATIONSHIP STATUS: hah. as of a few months ago, single :))) life is a bitch. and im guessing its gonna stay that way for a bit because im fucking sick of relationships

LAST MOVIE: forced my friends to watch spirited away with me a few hours ago lol

CURRENTLY WORKING ON: i have a commission wip and one traditional acrylics wip. and i started putting together a battle jacket with hand-drawn patches (by me. i am drawing them 😔i cant afford cool etsy patches + shipping lol) and stuff for a metal festival im going to in june so thats slowly coming along

no pressure of course and i hope its alright to tag some of u but i tag:

🪲 @gwynbleidd 🪲 @elvves 🪲 @eternalergo 🪲 @minicactpot 🪲 @princilly 🪲 @famewolf 🪲 @sylkana 🪲 @vampcleric 🪲 @sealacrossthesea 🪲

[teine-mallaichte]

A few months ago I bought a "teach yourself to draw manga" book. I've been working through it, step by step, and now I feel I have the basics I just have to start drawing the Kirkwall gang 🤣 still a fair few to go - and I need to gain more markers as I'm limited on colours (especially skin tones and something for Fenris's lyrium.)

I also need to work out how the heck you draw noses... And stubble - other than making the area a bit darker and adding random lines... And feathers... Damn you Anders. And no, I have no idea why I've made Anders eyebrows so dark 🤷 his hair is wrong too... And Fenris's face shape's all wrong... And Merrills vallaslin is hard to draw... I'm just pulling it apart now 🤣

[sky-fire-forever]

a prompt for justice/anders this Friday!

Thank you for the prompt! A late fill for @dadrunkwriting

Anders has struggled with nightmares for as long as he can remember. Even before the Circle, he'd wake up in the middle of the night in a sweat and with a scream on his lips. Nightmares about his mother being taken away from him by illness or accident. Nightmares about his father finally killing him for whatever dark thing inside of him frightens the man so terribly. Nightmares upon nightmares stretching back and back into the depths of his memory.

They only got worse in the Circle. He had more nightmarish memories to draw from: memories of gauntleted hands on his fragile skin, of the sneer on his father's face as they dragged him away, and of his mother’s teary eyes as she stood by and let them. 

Dreams of his Harrowing poisoned his sleeping mind. In sleep, his imagination ran wild, coming up with more and more horrific possibilities of what the templars could do to him. After a year in solitary, he'd wake up still believing that he was in that cramped cell, still talking to himself and begging for release. 

He hated that cell. Nothing hurt worse than being alone, unsure of what's real and what his broken mind was creating to entertain him. He's fairly certain they locked him up thinking he'd eventually give in to the demons that promised to free him. 

Sometimes he has nightmares about that too.

Even after he escaped for the final time, the nightmares never ceased. Only now, they were accompanied by visions of darkspawn and strange music and the horrible inevitability of a painful death.

The worst part was always waking up alone. Alone and afraid, with the memories of whatever he'd seen still clinging to his skin.

He doesn't wake up alone anymore. 

There's something different about waking up from the cold embrace of nightmares now. There's still the panic, the fear seeping into his bones, but he's reassured almost immediately by a presence deep inside of him. 

Justice. 

Justice warms him, reassuring him that the nightmare gas passed, that he's alive and free and safe. 

Or at least as safe as an apostate can be. 

This nightmare is particularly unpleasant. Images of his father's disapproving face flood Anders’ mind until the scene shifts to Hawke declaring that Anders is an abomination that needs to be locked up. Needs to be made safe for others to be around. As Hawke holds up the brand of Tranquility, Anders screams.

He's still screaming when he wakes up with a start, chest heaving and sweat drenching the sheets. He immediately presses his hand to his chest, feeling his own rapid heartbeat thundering inside of him. 

The presence appears as it always does, reassuring and grounding. Anders watches his veins light up with a dim blue glow, illuminating the cramped space of the room. 

“I'm here,” Justice says from the recesses of their shared mind. “They will not take you from me.”

Even the possessiveness is comforting. Even if no one else will protect Anders, will save him, he knows that Justice will. Not just for his own sake, but for Anders’ too. 

Anders’ breathing starts to even out and the world stops spinning. He blinks away the images of Hawke with the brand, pushing it from his mind. Hawke would never do that to him. 

“I would not allow it,” Justice assures.

Anders can't help smiling just a bit. “I know,” he says aloud. “Thank you.”

He hugs himself and maybe he's hugging Justice too.