Here's a little holiday spirit for everyone. You can now go grab the Love Across Thedas zine on itch.io for free, and find this artwork and much, much more inside, including plenty of fanfiction and digital merch.
@loveacrossthedaszine Extra thanks and much love to everyone who worked on the zine, but especially the mods.
(For anyone interested in what I was thinking when I was drawing this tune in below)
I wanted to do nanders because I pretty exclusively just do art about my player characters and their beaus otherwise. But nanders is one of those ships that I have been carrying my torch for since day one, or day 6 months in more like, with the pace I do my playthroughs in. Regardless, they were my favourite part about Awakening, and the greatest tragedy in Dragon Age is that they still haven't reunited for longer than 5 minutes in some dank darkspawn tunnel! So I set out to fix that.
I wanted to create a scene where the Amaranthine Wardens, my Mahariel and Zevran included, would go meet Anders in the middle after what happened to the Kirkwall Chantry, to keep him safe, and the team could finally get that more permanent reunion.
Due to my own headcanons the Amaranthine crew is also having a bit of an exodus, since they're in the middle of planning to go rogue from the rest of the Wardens. Oops :). All in all they're a bunch of outcasts right now, but they have each other.
And of course Nathaniel brought Pounce with them too.
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thinking about anders, who falls in love so easily, who is destined for loneliness and doomed to soul-shattering heartbreak
anders who fell in love with karl thekla, who traveled all of thedas to return to him, even becoming a warden if it meant seeing his lover once more
anders who fell in love with nathaniel, which started as a quick and casual tryst, two men releasing stress together in the horrors that is the blight and darkspawn hordes
anders who fell in love with hawke, who loved him back in a manner so tender yet intense that it felt it could last a hundred years, only for fate to tear hawke away from him without even a goodbye
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happy friday! for dadwc may i request "I didn’t ask you for permission, I’m telling you that’s what I’m doing whether you like it or not." for.... Nanders?
Hi Jay, happy DADWC Day! for @dadrunkwriting
screenshot yoinked from this video, which is a delightful animated banter compilation
“Shit shit shit!” Anders’ frantic muttering echoed down the hallway as Nate approached. He wasn’t worried, of course. Merely curious. Not curious enough to investigate if he didn’t already have business on this side of the Keep, of course. The mage was maddening: standoffish and aggravating all day every day, but inviting Nate to his bed every night. Or just in Nate’s bed already when he completed his watch duties.
The first time it happened, Nate had been so shocked at the offer that he'd simply walked out.
The second time, Nate had suggested it himself in a moment of desperation for him to just shut up, and hoping it would make him more bearable when they were out on patrol. That had been a resounding failure, long term; Anders had been even more flippant and annoying after that, and Nate spent hours biting his tongue to keep from snapping that there were better things he could be doing with mouth.
And now, yet again, he was making poor use of that thrice-blasted mouth, and ranting a torrent of profanity as he tossed the room apart and threw all manner of supplies on his bed. Potions, food, a waterskin and, strangest of all, his Warden dress uniform.
“Going somewhere?” Nate asked from the doorway
Anders jumped and spun around, magic crackling on his fingers. When he recognized Nate, he scowled and turned back to the shelf, then tossed a few more things from it to the mattress. “What do you care?”
The vehemence in his tone and the fury in his eyes actually made Nate step back. "I, I didn't see any orders," he stammered.
"And you're not going to." He grabbed a bag and started dumping everything in it. "I found my - a friend. And I'm going to go get him."
"You have friends?" Nate winced the second he asked. It wasn’t as though Anders wasn't friendly, just that it was only on the surface. He never seemed to let anyone inside, treated everyone with the same familiarity and indifference equally. Everyone except the Commander and possibly Nate himself. The Commander got respect, and Nate got, well, disrespect. And a bedwarmer.
Anders shot him a glare over his shoulder. "Apparently not. Not enough to fucking help when I ask, so I'm… ugh."
"What? You're a Warden, if course we'll -"
"Commander said no," Anders snapped. "So I'm on my own. Again."
"Doing what?"
He kept packing. "What the void do you even care?"
Why did he? Daytime Anders was irritation piled on exasperation, but he liked Nightime Anders a great deal. And, theoretically, they were the same person. Nate took a deep breath and pinched his brow. "You've shared my bed, why wouldn't I?"
"Hasn't mattered before," he muttered, then turned around. "I'm going to Kirkwall. Karl is… he's a mage. And I'm getting him out."
Fear pricked at his gut. They'll kill him. “So, you’re just going to do what, exactly? March up to the Gallows and Conscript him?”
“If that’s what it takes.”
“It’s the Gallows,” Nate said sternly. “They’re just as likely to haul you in for being apostate as anything else.”
He stabbed a finger at the uniform peeking from the bag. “I’m a fucking Warden, they can’t.”
“And if they don’t believe you?”
“Then Kirkwall fucking burns,” he spat. “You don’t get it, Howe. I’m not asking for permission, or your blessing, or your help. I’m telling you that’s what I’m doing whether you like it or not.”
“And what about us? What about everyone here in Amaranthine?”
“Us? What us? You can all burn too for all I care - I was only recruited because I happened to be here, and the Commander can't stand Templars. You all fucking hate me, just be glad I'm leaving, alright?”
“Maybe if you weren’t such an asshole -” Nate started.
“I love him!” Anders shouted. “There, happy now? I love him, I’ve loved him for years, and I finally found him! I don’t give a shit about darkspawn, or any of you, and I’m going to get him back or die trying. You got it?”
“What if the Knight Commander laughs you out of her office?” Nate demanded. “What then? You can’t seriously think you can take on an entire contingent of Templars on your own. They’ll have you down with a Tranquil brand on your forehead in under a minute.”
Anders spun around as he slung his pack over his shoulder. “I’ve got a whole damn sea voyage to figure that shit out.”
“No, we need to figure this out now,” he insisted as he grabbed Anders’ elbow.
“Piss off, Nate,” Anders snarled as he shoved him back. “You can get out of my way on your own or I can put you through through the fucking wall, but you’re not stopping me. Not you, or the Commander or anyone else.”
Nate snatched his bag off his arm. “I’m not trying to stop you, you fool, I’m coming with you!”
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I just love the sort of unhinged vibes that Anders would potentially bring to a nathanders dynamic. Like, Justice is there chilling in the background because he doesn't get why anything would be wrong. They like Nate. They like Hawke. Everything about this is great! Win-win-win for everyone with all of them on board.
Meanwhile, Anders is quaking in his boots, muttering to himself because, "No, no, no, Justice. You don't get it! They're flirting, Justice. Flirting! If my hot-as-fuck current boyfriend kisses my hot-as-fuck ex-boyfriend, I will not survive the impact. I will spontaneously combust. There will be absolutely nothing left of us, you hear?"
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Guess what, y'all? The Sanders Summerbang collection opened for viewing today!!!! So over the next few days that's what I'll be flailing about.
The first fic I'd like to shriek about today is written by @dismalzelenka who is a god for coming up with this AU. It stabbed me right in the feelings, but it ends so happily, I LOVE IT.
The Color of Sorrow
Written by @dismalzelenka , Art by me <3
Rating: E
Archive Warnings: Graphic Depictions of Violence
Relationship: Nathaniel Howe/Anders
Summary:
Anders has learned by now that if he looks hard enough into the darkness, something will eventually look back. He never expects it to extend a hand instead. Days later after a misguided attempt at seeking justice ends in utter disaster, his memory is no longer what it used to be; and when he stitches up a wounded stranger who turns out to be the local Arl's eldest son and soon-to-be heir, he also doesn't expect the man to offer him a favor in return.
What happens after that, well, that's a story for the history books.
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