[ sup losers i have heroes of dragon age now
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Oh great and powerful Pandy, how the fricken frack do we commission you?
[ Helloooo everything you need to know about my commissions can be found right here!!
I’ve also been considering offering writing commissions as of late but from what I’ve seen of others offering the service, it’s nowhere near as popular as art commissions. But it’s something to consider! ]
Despite his intelligence the merman was remarkably obedient, taking whatever Nathaniel offered him and consuming it with only the slightest bit of hesitation. Perhaps he was young for his kind, used to being given things by his elders and told what to do. The raider didn’t have the slightest clue how to age merman even if they had a human face. There was no telling how long it took them to develop that humanoid look. This one could be twenty or two hundred, or two hundred merman years but ten human years.
Still, he supposed it didn’t matter how old the creature was so long as it could be taught to obey simply commands. The medicine would help and if he would take it regularly then there was a good chance he’d recover well from his injuries. He would recover faster if he rested, but it appeared as though the merman vetoed that idea. Given that he couldn’t very well make the merman sleep unless he knocked it out again, Nathaniel supposed he would have to do it on his own.
Anders gestures were recognizable, asking him again to let him out, and the raider scowled. He pointed emphatically at the merman’s wounded tail and raised his eyebrows as if to say “how do you intend to survive with that?” He offered the merman fish until he wouldn’t accept anymore and then left him in peace to return to his duties. Nevertheless, the seed of an idea had already been planted, and when Nathaniel lay in his hammock that night he was already considering ways in which he might give the merman a chance to swim freely for a chance. (For the health of his tail, of course).
A couple of months later, when the wounds had properly healed and the merman no longer looked quite so close to a starved hound Nathaniel descended down the steps into the belly of the ship with a group of his crew. They lingered close to the tank as Nathaniel tugged his shirt off and rolled up his pants. On his shoulders he slung a well-made leather contraption which he held firmly as he stepped up onto the top of the stepladder.
“You sure about this?”
One of the crew asked, looking a bit nervous as the others undid the clasps and pushed the heavy grate off the top of the tank. Nathaniel merely gave the man a dark look before he stepped off the stepladder and into the tank. The water was as cold as he’d expected it to be but he shivered nonetheless. His feet only just touched the bottom which didn’t make him feel very stable but he hoped that the merman wasn’t going to start a fight. What with all the others down here surely Anders wouldn’t be stupid enough to try and eat him, right? Crooking a finger at the merman he carefully unslung the harness from his shoulder and waited.
There it was again. Nathaniel denied Anders’ second request for freedom, this time indicating his injuries - despite the disappointment, the merman couldn’t really refute his point. He was weak, underfed, and hurt. He’d been on the verge of dying out there in the ocean, and the humans had - for some reason he still hadn’t figured out - captured him and begun working to nurse him back to health. Whether that was to release him later or do something else with him, he had no idea. He was, admittedly, less scared of what fate awaited him if it meant he would be taken care of and fed fish every day.
He just wished it didn’t have to be in such a cramped tank. He felt trapped, and it was difficult not to be miserable in such boring surroundings.
He sighed, before nodding at Nathaniel’s gesture towards his tail in understanding, eyes averting downwards. Maybe they would let him go once he was better. It might have been too much to hope for, but it was all he could in his current situation.
He accepted what fish the human gave him, before eventually slipping over behind the large rock in the center of the tank and curling up to sleep.
Despite understanding why Nathaniel wanted him to remain locked in the tank, it didn’t make the next two months any easier for the captive merman. He spent most of his alone time either swimming half-circles in the bare amount of space he had to do so, or simply laying on the floor of the tank and staring up at the grate above him.
Nathaniel’s visits were the only thing that made the whole ordeal even remotely bearable, as the human was the only one who seemed interested enough to speak with him and make an effort to teach him a few words so he might have the ability to communicate his desires. He was far from fluent, of course, but he was beginning to understand how to respond to certain things without having to make awkward signs with his hands or splashing his tail like a fool.
The wounds eventually closed up and he allowed the ship doctor - at Nathaniel’s behest - to remove his stitches through one of the holes in the grate, not quite ready to drink another flask of rum and deal with the aftereffects. Nate was surprisingly understanding of his apprehension, though, and the feeling of his fingertips stroking the scales of his tail was enough to calm him as the stranger with the sharp tools cut away the stitches and removed them with practiced ease.
He certainly felt healthier, despite the misery of his captivity. Having a good meal on a regular basis would do that, of course, and before long the mottled, greying patches on his scales began to disappear and he filled out, ribs no longer protruding so sharply through his pale skin. He wondered less and less whether the humans planned on hurting him, and more about what exactly it is they hoped to gain from making sure he was healthy. Did they plan on selling him? Were they just going to keep him in the tank, like some sort of prize pet? He still didn’t have the vocabulary to ask, however, so he was forced to ponder it in silence.
He woke to the sound of the grate on the tank being opened, the metal scraping against the edge and reverberating loudly against the glass as it was shoved open enough to permit someone to step down into the water with him.
He shot up into a sitting position when it fully dawned on him that the tank was open and that he wasn’t alone. He didn’t move at first, the old fear of not knowing coming back to grip him with paranoia. Were they finally here to pull him out and harm him?
Or maybe they were here to let him free.
He hesitated for a moment, before swimming to the surface and peering above it - he came face to face with Nathaniel, expression morphing into surprise at the realization.
"Nathaniel?" he asked, hoping his tone was enough to convey the questions he wanted to ask. "Why?"
The dark-haired human had something slung over his shoulder that Anders didn’t recognize, and he faltered, tail swishing a bit in agitation. He looked pointedly at it. “What is?”
"A wounded puppy?" Nate repeated indignantly even as Maggie grumbled happily at the mention of her name, wiggling up against Anders in a plea for affection. The mercenary glowered at her but quickly gave up on trying to dissuade her friendliness towards their accidental roommate. There had been a time where he would have sworn on his pet’s good judgement, given that she growled at every Batarian within ten feet of her and liked to chew on Vorcha shins if they got too close. He used Maggie to ferret out shady dealers, intimidate weak-willed guns for hire, and force the cowardly thugs out of hiding so he could shoot them in the knee cap. She was good at all of that and never once hesitated if she was given the order to maim.
And yet here she was, perfectly content to beg for pats from a biotic stripper on Omega. Maybe she was ill, or maybe she was just having an off day. Both of those options were better than the alternative that Anders might be the kind of person worth keeping around.
He looked back at Anders when the man moved, a force of habit more than anything, and found himself inadvertently caught in the blond’s trap. Nate had seen the biotic do things far more lewd than wipe frosting from his mouth and lick his finger afterwards but that likely made the whole scenario worse rather than better. It conjured up memories of Afterlife and feathery tattoos and the way the light had played off of pale skin. The blond was teasing him again and he knew it but that didn’t stop him from shaking his head and scooting closer so the biotic was in reach.
"You’re hopeless," he complained, quietly and without much bite. Licking his thumb he leaned forward to wipe the remaining trail of frosting from Anders’ cheek, touch more efficient than the biotic’s had been. "I’m surprised you make it out of the house dressed in the morning."
"That’s right. You were banged up and begging me for medigel," Anders reminded him, still grinning very much like a cat that had found its way into the fishbowl. "I’m glad I didn’t shoot you, at least. You’re too bloody handsome to be a mercenary. It would have been a horrible loss."
He laughed at Maggie’s insistence on getting bellyrubs, tearing his attention away from Nathaniel just long enough to indulge the wiggling varren. She seemed content to snuggle against him while he pet her, but his attention was torn away soon enough by the aforementioned frosting.
He was somewhat surprised by the proximity Nathaniel had allowed between them when he reached over to clean the remains of the frosting off of his cheek - the mercenary was anything but a handsy sort, and having him initiate contact between them was… unexpected. It certainly wasn’t unwelcome, however, and the biotic couldn’t help but give him a slow smirk as his thumb trailed around the curve of his lips, gently tracing the fresh bruising that was only just beginning to fade.
"Mm. You sound disappointed," he murmured, voice lowered in the space between them - and it was beginning to close, Anders testing his limits as he leaned closer and closer. "I could always give you a private show, if you want to see me naked so badly…"
His voice trailed off as the distance between them disappeared and Anders’ lips pressed against Nathaniel’s in a soft kiss.
Nathaniel had an incredible talent at making people dislike him after mere minutes in his company. If it was something he was aware of he might have actually been proud of the way Anders responded to his scowl. As it stood, the raised eyebrow only made the hunter’s frown deepen. Judging by the expression on the stranger’s face he was sharing a room with some kind of comedian. Fantastic.
For all their posturing the stranger still answered Nate’s question honestly enough, his words making logical sense. Denerim General. At least they hadn’t been airlifted too far then. Though he had spent time outside of Ferelden, even living in the Free Marches for a time, he preferred to stay in the country he’d grown up in. Besides, keeping him cooped up in foreign hospitals was unpleasant for everyone involved.
The young man’s question, however, catches him off guard and he forces himself to focus back on Anders. “You were on the train then?” Nathaniel squints and then regrets the movement, bringing a hand up to rub at the bridge of his nose. “I can’t say I remember much of anything. I didn’t expect…” He paused, gesturing to the rest of his body with his free hand. All he’d wanted to do was go to one blighted job interview. Apparently it had been too much to ask.
His gaze flicked over Anders again, trying to shake the vague sense of familiarity, before he asked, “I don’t suppose you have a name?”
Anders watched the man’s movements, noticing how his attention seemed to drift for a moment before it came back around to him. He was likely still half-delirious from painkillers and was doing a bang-up job trying to look as lucid as possible. Judging by his injuries, there was no way he was completely clear-headed. He couldn’t help but feel a little sorry for him, scowling aside.
"Yeah. I was on the train," he confirmed, trying very hard to keep his attention focused on his unwilling roommate and not on the fragmented memories struggling their way towards the forefront of his mind. Flashes of blood-soaked hair and dead eyes began to tear his attention away, and he had to shake his head to dislodge them. "I think it might have been an explosion. Perhaps a bomb, or…"
He sighed. “I don’t know. I remember pulling a few people out of the train before I passed out. You were the last person I saw.”
He looked over Nathaniel’s injuries again, cataloguing where the healing glyphs had been placed. He couldn’t guess with much confidence at what sort of internal injuries he had without the proper access, and it was difficult to remind himself that he was a patient, not a healer. Not that the nurses would ever allow him to check on other patients without the proper credentials. He was just a back-alley healer, after all.
His expression softened somewhat at the man’s question. “I’m Anders. You?”
The stranger was awake – of course he was awake – and Nate’s scowl darkened as he hunkered down in his pillows and did his best impression of an unimpressed cat. There was nowhere he could go and he most certainly did not have the strength to get up and close the dividing curtain without ending up on the floor. (Not that he would have closed it. Arguably, it was better to see the potential threat than to know it was there but be oblivious to the stranger’s actions.)
He was aware it was difficult to appear intimidating when he looked like he was barely being held together with medical tape and a few well-placed healing circles but that didn’t mean Nathaniel wasn’t going to try his damnedest. Nate eyed Anders as critically as he could manage, mouth set in a tight, disapproving line as he took in the man’s injuries. Normally he would have rolled over and ignored the stranger’s suggestions, doing whatever he pleased, but there were some things he needed to sort out before his weakness forced him back to sleep. The hunter’s brain still felt sluggish, his whole body protesting being moved around so much after it had expended so much energy just trying to keep him alive. This man seemed to have similar injuries to his own, which could indicate he’d come from the same train Nate had been on. It was worth a shot.
Slowly and carefully this time he eased himself up into a semi-sitting position, gaze focused intently on Anders. “Where am I? What happened?”
Oh, goody. Anders supposed he shouldn’t have been so surprised by the fact that his roommate seemed to have the default expression of someone who had eaten something sour upon seeing him - he was used to it, after all, and it was hardly something that phased him anymore. He quirked an eyebrow at Nathaniel’s critical expression, prepared to show him that he wasn’t here to start some sort of glaring match.
Despite his expression, the man still seemed intent upon questioning him about their current situation. Truthfully, Anders had hoped he would have more information about the accident than he did, as he had been closer to the front of the train when it happened. He supposed it wasn’t that surprising that he didn’t remember anything considering the amount of physical damage he had sustained.
"I’m fairly certain this is Denerim General, but I could be wrong," he replied truthfully, shrugging slightly and wincing in the process. "Unless we were far enough to warrant going elsewhere."
He paused, eyes raking over the other man’s injuries. “I was hoping you might know more about what happened. I was near the back of the train, so I didn’t see anything. Do you not remember anything about the wreck?”
For her fantastic portrayal, her lovely writing and for being a sweet, loyal and incredibly talented friend.
Sometimes I feel like I’m drowning / Actually it’s more like most of the time / But every now and then when I’m sleeping / I still have a dream that I’m flying / And I wake up crying.Independent Anders Roleplay Blog
🔥 15 yrs of roleplay experience; nearly 2 yrs for Anders.
🔥 18+ as is Muse.
🔥 Banter & multi-para. Novella is rare but possible.
🔥 Multiverse/Multiship/AU/OC friendly. Shipping based on chemistry.
🔥 Fluff, angst, adventure, romance and crack as well as darker themes.
🔥 Hawkes, wardens, and Dragon Age characters welcome!
🔥 Present or past-tense in either third-person or first-person.
🔥 Encourages various character relationships including friendships, rivalries and romances.
🔥 Defaults to Dragon Age II but open to Circle and Awakening shenanigans.
🔥 Dragon Age universe only & Selective.
🔥 Same Anders as before, just with following capabilities!
🔥 A Coco muse!Index | Ask | Rules | Archived Blog
How in the frack are there 300+ of you? Like, I am terrible and take forever to reply and am lame aND. Seriously, I don’t know how you guys put up with me, but you dO and I’m amazed. This has been a long time coming; this blog took off way faster than I expected it to (disregarding my silly disappearances) and it’s just. Wow. It’s about time I did something to let you all know how happy I am to have you around and how ecstatic it makes me to know that people are enjoying the trolltastic dork that is my Flemeth.
Before I get to the giveaway stuff, though, I just want to give a quick shout out to the following people, either because we interact often enough and they make me hyperventilate with happiness whenever we thread together or because I watch them longingly from afar and am too weenie to approach them. Don’t feel bad if you’re not on here; I love all of you and jfc, if I could put all 300+ of you on here, I woULD.
spookymickeyxo, deadliestdance, keptmyhairshort, thereluctantking / andersspicyshimmy, mountainmage, makersent, torania-cousland-theirin, fatamoirai, madehercry / silliestdame, herorecipe, anivara, arianashepard, tritusaugeous, thepowerofmassacre, xamelixrate, elhawke, desidiae, cxwyll, hisbrokenwatch, baneofcolumbia, serstannard, incredible-zim, whorxifying, sxlemask, clementinehat, duck-grayson-your-ward, xstupendous, morrxgan, wintersxng, slxnderman, lxyalmarquis, chainwardxn, lutecea, towermade, hemorrhxge, sanctamater, arcxneadvisor, arielshepard / kashaph, immortalcorrupter, broken—shackles
Additional shout-out to autosave-masterlist because everyone involved with that masterlist is hella and I would not be nearly as invested in this blog as I’ve become without having made the decision to join them.
Smooches everyone tbh. All 300some of you are wonderful and I don’t know what I did to deserve you but thank you for sticking around. uwu!
Noooow, the giveaway part of this! No, I haven’t forgotten about that, huhu. A while back, my sister did a video game giveaway, and so, I’m gonna follow in her footsteps! Because games are love, am I right?
- First Prize: Two games of your choice, for whatever you want. PS4/XBone/PC/Nintendo 64, whatever.
- Second Prize: One game of your choice. Same thing applies; any system.
Rules are easy, seriously.
- Must be following me the moment this is posted. This is for followers, after all. I will check.
- You can rebloob this once or just like it or do both for a double entry. Both will count. Winners will be chosen with a random number generator.
- Gotta be comfortable with giving me your shipping address! (Unless your game/s are on, like, steam, for example, and I can just gift them to you or something, ofc.) If you’re not and you win, though, we’ll figure something out.
- This ends Saturday, on 10/11/14 at whatever time of day I happen to drag myself on here.
- That’s all. Easy, see? Good luck, little children who will never be cool dragons like me. B)
Waking up was like being doused with ice water, sudden and shockingly painful, and Nathaniel struggled to draw in breath. The simple act of gasping in air made him instantly and achingly aware of how much his body protested even a movement as small as expanding his chest. It seemed like every inch of him was hot with sharp, spiking pain, and his first instinct was to run even though the rational part of his brain knew that fleeing wouldn’t help. Rationality did little to help him in the face of such primal instincts.
Above him his vision swam and he thrashed – or at least, he tried to, only managing to jerk his legs and twitch his fingers in protest. He didn’t know where he was or why he was here, the noises around him dulled against the sound of his pounding heart. The last thing he remembered was being on a train, watching a nervous cluster of elves conversing in hushed voices, one of them drawing something out of her pocket with a look of grim determination and then—
His exhale came as an unbidden whimper and he was dimly aware of hands pressing more firmly down on his wrists, holding him still as he drifted back into painless unconsciousness.
When he woke up again he was alone in a hospital bed, in considerably less pain though no more sure of what had happened. Thinking about it just made his head hurt and he brought a hand up to rub at the bridge of his nose, wincing as the movement tugged on his IV line. For a moment he considered tugging it out and making a break for it, but a quick glance down at the rest of his body made him rethink such a decision.
Underneath the sheets he could make out the faint blue glow of healing glyphs written carefully on the bandages to help mend the injuries they covered. Glyphs were never wasted on something that a mere Band-Aid could fix. Whatever damage he’d sustained had been severe enough to warrant magical healing, which meant he wasn’t getting out of bed any time soon. So much for him making it to his job interview. The only person this side of Ferelden to give him a chance and he got caught in some freak accident.
With a frustrated sigh that quickly became a pained cough, Nathaniel pushed himself up into as much of a sitting position as he could manage to get a better look at his surroundings. Grey eyes surveyed the room carefully, unable to shake his hunter training even holed up in a hospital wing. The wards would protect this place from the kind of big baddies he usually hunted for piddling amounts of money but he still felt uneasy not knowing his exits.
It wasn’t until he glanced to his left that he realized he wasn’t alone, the room’s only other bed occupied by a blond haired young man. The hairs on the back of Nate’s neck bristled and he tried to sit up a little straighter. He failed spectacularly, succeeding in only sliding deeper into the pillows and aggravating his chest enough to wheeze. Andraste’s blood…
Anders didn’t remember much about the accident.
The last thing he remembered with any sense of clarity was the inane game he had been playing on his phone, swiping and popping colored bubbles on the small screen to pass the time - his ride was too long to spend in abject silence, and people had a tendency to put a ten foot radius between themselves and a man with a faintly glowing mage mark on the back of his hand. People were generally less wary of a healer, of course, but that didn’t stop them from inching away or conveniently choosing to get up and move to another train car.