#ace fenris

[aegogame]

So I did a thing 😍 I started a new hobby -> cross stitching and my first project was Ace Fenris 💜🖤🥰

I'm very proud of myslef, I think it turned out great for my first try in this 🥰 It took me around 45 hours XD

[protect-him]

"you got drunk and you got our doors mixed up so you woke me up at two in the morning cause you were banging on my door and trying to fumble your keys in and I thought you were trying to break in" + Fenders

Thank you for the prompt! I do love writing fenders, and I’m still thinking about my ace!Fenris soulmate AU, so wrote this as something else that could be from that AU. For @dadrunkwriting

Anders is asleep. Early, for once. And he is sleeping soundly. For once.

So when something pulls him from that sleep, he’s not very happy. Neither are the four cats currently on his bed. One more wanders in, mewing to inform him that something is disturbing her.

“I don’t think it’s an emergency, Lady Glitterfur,” Anders grumbles at the cat. “You’re easily disturbed is all.” He isn’t sure what woke him up, and he taps the phone next to his bed to check the time.

“Maker’s pits, it’s two AM,” Anders groans, flopping his face back into his pillow. “Glitter, I swear if—”

There’s a pounding at the door, interrupting him.

Anders sits up, instantly wary. No one he knows would come banging on his door unless it were an emergency. But then they would also text him that they were coming, and he hadn’t seen anything on his phone when he checked the time. He grabs it and holds it up close to his face to squint at the screen as he taps it again to check.

Nothing.

Another thump against his door and the flimsy frame creaks. Someone is fumbling with the door handle as well. No one he knows would do that. The only thing he can think of is… Templars? His heart skips for a moment. It has been a long time since he’s dealt with Templars; most Templars don’t bother with mages anymore. Being a mage had historically put people under more scrutiny, but mages are just people, and even the Templars are beginning to see that. And Anders hasn’t been involved in the Underground in years.

Anders reaches for his staff as he rolls out of bed and cautiously enters the other room, heading for the front door. Whoever stands on the other side of the door seems to have abandoned trying the door handle and is now slamming a shoulder against the door. Anders grips his staff tighter and approaches.

Readying a spell to blast back any malicious intruders, Anders unlocks the door and quickly flings it open, just as Fenris is leaning to ram his shoulder against the door again. Anders drops the spell immediately.

“Fenris?”

Fenris’s brows crease and he frowns up at Anders.

“What are you doing here?” He says, his words slurring together.

“You’re drunk!”

“Why are you in my ‘partment?” He takes a step inside, his keys jingling where they dangle from one hand.

“Fenris, you live on the second floor,” Anders says. “This is my apartment. Maker, I didn’t know you drank.” He puts a hand out to steady the elf. Seeing Fenris in this state is concerning. Fenris has always demonstrated a lot of self-control.

“I don’t.”

“Do you want to sleep here? Or do you want me to take you up to your place?” Anders isn’t sure that Fenris is listening to him. “Did something… happen?”

Fenris desperately wanted to say something, Anders could see him turning it over in his mind. He was curious what would drive Fenris to let himself get drunk, but if Fenris didn’t want him to know, it was rude of him to try to get answers.

“You don’t have to tell me,” Anders assures him, taking his arm and leading him towards the kitchen. “How about some water?”

“I don’t have much time,” Fenris says, his voice nearly breaking. Anders isn’t sure what Fenris is talking about.

“I’m sure you have plenty of time,” Anders says soothingly. “It only seems like you don’t right now.”

Fenris shakes his head, a bit too vigorously, and groans.

“It’s not worth worrying about tonight,” Anders leaves Fenris by the refrigerator and hurries to find a clean mug and fill it with water from the tap. He presses the mug into the elf’s hands. “Drink some water, you’ll feel better. I’ll get you a blanket and you can sleep on the couch.”

Fenris drinks a little, scowling into the mug as if he could make the water understand how frustrated and confused he is.

Anders nearly trips over Furry Buttcheeks as he turns Fenris towards the sofa. Buttcheeks just flicks his tail and saunters ahead of them, making no effort to move out of Anders’ path. He rolls his eyes and eases Fenris onto the couch, pulling a blanket from over the back of it.

“Finish that water,” he instructs Fenris, “and get some sleep.”

Fenris wrinkles his nose, and Anders chuckles.

“You’ll feel better if you do,” he says. “I’m going to sleep as well, but if you need anything just call.”

Fenris is still sitting there staring down at his mug when Anders climbs into bed. He can just see his shoulder and part of his head if he looks through his bedroom door into the other room. He watches Fenris take a drink from the mug, and then lies down. Perhaps he will get more answers in the morning. Most likely not, but it seems like a good sign that Fenris trusts him enough to stay the night. Anders checks his phone once more. It has only been ten minutes. He glances at the soulmate name on his wrist before he closes his eyes. Fenris. He won’t ask, but he has so many questions. Perhaps, in time, Fenris will come to trust him enough to explain further. Perhaps.

[jellydishes]

Fenris was waiting for him when he came back from washing his hands of his last patient, drawing himself up to his full, if diminutive height at Anders’s approach. “I have a problem,” he said without preamble and with more than a little reluctance, crossing and recrossing his arms across his chest.

Anders waited, but no further explanation was forthcoming, so he prompted, “What sort of problem?”

The question seemed to unsettle him. Fenris started to pace, clutching at the empty air at his sides with stiffened fingers curled into claws. “I,” he said slowly, the words seemingly having to be pulled out of him, “have. Difficulty.”

Anders sat, sensing this would take some time, and raised his brows. Fenris snarled wordlessly and resumed his pacing. “When Isabela comes to me, there is. Nothing.”

Anders sat, and Fenris paced. That, it seemed, was that. It would clearly be up to him to do the heavy lifting in this conversation. “Have you considered,” Anders said, as delicately as he could manage, “that it's the woman? It wouldn’t be, ah, unusual for there to be some disconnect in the bedroom, considering her-”

“No.” Fenris cut the air with his hand. “That is not an issue. I have no problem with Isabela’s… activities. My problems are. Of a more personal nature.”

Anders’s brows climbed still higher, earning him another snarl, but where else was his mind to lead itself on this merry chase they were having? “There are salves for that,” he tried, unable to keep the laughter out of his voice despite himself. If it had to happen to anyone…

He supposed he should not have been surprised with the force of Fenris’s glare. “That is not what I came to you for, either.”

“Well, if not that, then what?”

Fenris ducked his head and twisted it from side to side across his chest. “I feel nothing. I never have, not to my recollection.”

Anders shook his head with a low laugh, raking his fingers through flyaway hair. It was too late --or too early-- for this. Fenris stiffened, reading his action as refusal, or worse. “I did not come here for you to mock me, mage, but to fix me.”

Anders stared for a moment, looking nothing so much as baffled. “You think you’re-” His expression fell, and he reached out, thinking only to offer… what? Comfort? Fenris drew back at once, leaving Anders reaching for empty air. He stared for a moment before letting his hand fall, sighing. “You aren’t broken,” he said briskly, dropping his gaze away from Fenris to busy himself with bandages he had made earlier in the evening, purely to give himself something to look at other than the elf’s lost expression, figuring that it’d be the more comfortable for them both.

“I would not have phrased it in such a way,” Fenris said after a moment, but the stiff tone he’d wanted sounded more tired than anything else. Resigned.

“But you do think it.”

“What else am I to think?” There was a hint of a snarl in his voice, a baring of the slight point to elvish incisors, though, again, Anders thought it might more frustration than true defensiveness. He’d been on the other side enough to recognize it when he saw it, but he didn’t think that information would be helpful just now, so he let his hands and his voice fall. “Danarius did this to me, he must have. Fix it, or release me.”

“What you are feeling is completely normal,” Anders said slowly, carefully, lifting his hands to pat the air, “if uncommon. I myself-” He hesitated a moment, wrestling with himself, then added, “have met people like you. It is called asexuality. It happens, Fenris,” he added more gently. “The important thing is that there is nothing to fix, and,” after another, briefer, hesitation, “you aren’t alone.”

“What does that matter?” Fenris said, frustrated. He was turned away, at the end of his circuit of the room, and did not appear to notice how Anders drew away. “If it cannot be fixed, then tell me how best to- She already thinks that I-”

“I am sure she does not,” Anders told him, far more gently than he would have expected, considering who it was he was speaking to, but the subject was close enough to his heart that he found that he could not help himself.

“No?” Fenris gave a snort. “You thought so, and you do not even know us. Do you.”

“No. Precisely because she does. She knows you, and she knows herself. But perhaps,” he added, “I am not the one to be having this conversation with. Just. Talk to her. Tell her that you have no desire for… that.” Fenris sank back, his mouth twisting into a crumpled shape than Anders found he could not look directly at. “If she is worth spending your time with, she will understand.”

“I don’t even understand,” Fenris said, but without heat. It was almost plaintive. He sat back on his heels, ears flicking his indecision, and for once Anders was not inclined to mock his silence. The two sat for a moment, then two, before Anders stirred. Fenris stiffened at once, but did not move away when Anders clapped a hand to his shoulder.

“She is more worldly than you seem to be giving her credit for. I am sure,” he said, thinking back to previous firelit conversations, “that she is familiar with the concept. Talk to her. If she is not, come back and see me in the morning,” he added with some bit of his previous humor.

“If she is not,” Fenris said heavily, “I am sure you shall see more of me in the coming days.”

“Believe me, that is something I think we would all rather avoid,” Anders said, but he was smiling, and so, he saw to his surprise, was Fenris. Maybe this would turn out all right.

[protect-him]

“I didn’t lock my door and your friend suddenly burst in while I was doing the dishes and started rummaging through my fridge and two minutes later you ran in and dragged them out without a single word” for anyone from the DA2 crew (though I love Fenders if you want 2 of the people mentioned to be them!)

Thank you so much for this prompt! Had a bit of a late go at this today, apologies if the ending is a bit bungled. I pulled a page from a future soulmate AU for this, where Anders and Fenris live in the same apartment complex and know each other only through Hawke at first. What happens in this prompt...may or may not happen more over the course of their friendship in my future-fic, which grows stubbornly, kind of like a twisty tree in a harsh environment. Strong, but beautiful. XD And now that I’ve rambled lmao, on to the prompt reply itself!

Written for @dadrunkwriting

Fenris had only a handful of cheap dishes, plus a couple plates that Hawke had given him. He found himself washing dishes frequently, as he had so few. It gave him something to do, and he felt a new sense of pride when he could put the dishes in the cupboard and see his tidy living space. It was small and sparse, but it was his.

He hummed to himself as he ran his chipped mug under the hot water. He would need to remember to purchase more tea the next time he went to purchase food. He did not have much for food, but he did have a little.

Fenris was moving on to the bowl as the door to his apartment suddenly swung open. Fenris looked over his shoulder, expecting it to be Hawke, but instead it was Anders. He had met the man once, when Hawke had introduced them. Anders had been friendly, but Fenris had been careful to remain distantly polite. The soulmate name hidden beneath the wristband he wore was an Anders, and he did not yet know that he wanted a soulmate. So though he had seen the question in the man’s eyes, he’d ignored it. He hadn’t seen Anders again...until now.

Anders went straight to his refrigerator and pulled it open, without saying a word.

“A-Anders?” But Fenris’ voice was drowned by the clink of the wine bottles as Anders shuffled through them, turning them to read the labels. He didn’t appear to be drunk, but he was clearly focused on trying to find something.

He pushed the wine bottles aside and turned over the packages of sliced cheese that Fenris had, reading the labels of those as well before he tossed them to the back of the fridge as well. He straightened to open the freezer, took a glance inside at the ice trays and the lonely package of frozen berries, then returned to the refrigerator.

Fenris fought down the anxiety. This was his apartment, he had every right to ask the man to leave. Yet he stood holding a forgotten bowl under the running water and staring at the stranger (were they still a stranger if you knew their name?), who rummaged through his fridge, not even glancing at Fenris.

“Anders?” Fenris tried again.

“Anders?” Another, more familiar voice came from the door to the apartment. Fenris looked helplessly to Hawke, who likewise didn’t respond or even look at Fenris. He strode in, though with the long legs the man had, he may as well have been running across the humble width of Fenris’ apartment. He grabbed Anders’ elbow and pulled him away from the refrigerator. Without a word, he dragged Anders from the apartment. Anders had something clutched in his hand, stumbling as his friend pulled him out onto the landing, where he pulled Anders out ahead of him, and then leaned back in to grab the door handle and shut it behind him.

Fenris stared at the door for another minute. The water ran and the refrigerator hummed with the door still hanging open. Fenris blinked, frowning, and shut off the sink, setting the bowl aside and drying his hands. He went to look in the refrigerator. Aside from everything having been moved, all Anders had done was take half a stick of butter.

Fenris really didn’t need to put the food back, but he did anyway, shifting the cheese back into place and moving the wine bottles an inch to the left to be where they had been before. After a moment’s consideration, he took one out before he closed the refrigerator door.

Hawke had said that Anders lived in the same apartment neighborhood, but Fenris had assumed the man didn’t know he was there. He opened the wine bottle and sighed. This wasn’t how soulmates worked, was it? Fenris had assumed that he would be able to avoid his, assuming that this Anders was his soulmate, which he was fairly certain of. Yet the man had simply walked into his apartment without warning or so much as a polite greeting. Fenris supposed he should start locking his door from now on, but wasn’t particularly inclined to do so. He couldn’t say why, but he supposed a part of freedom was making that choice, and not needing justification.

Fenris downed the remainder of his wine and carefully placed the bottle on the floor beside the small, ratty sofa, to be taken down to the recycling bin later. Life had turned out being less exciting than he’d expected from films—he washed the same four dishes every day and found a certain calming monotony to his routine of working, eating, and sleeping. But at the same time, life was more intense and complicated than he could have imagined it would be. And stranger. And he supposed he liked it that way. He liked leaving himself open to opportunities for new experiences, to taste all the variety that freedom could offer.

But he wasn’t so sure about Anders yet. He had thought he could reduce the man to a simple choice. Anders: no. Yet not all decisions that were made he could make himself, and it seemed that Anders was a choice that he would not be able to make entirely on his own.

[protect-him]

Pride requests! All the DA2 bisexual babes! Or possibly Krem being super proud in a Trans pride shirt

I stayed up way too late, and in the end didn’t have time for Krem, but there’s plenty of time left to draw him later. Enjoy these DA2 bi babes

[protect-him]

A lovely fenders vignette for @choco-java

I really wanted to write as well, but my ace Fenris fic isn't quite ready, and the first chapter is pre-fenders, so here's a little scene from the fic anyway! Anders gifts his friend-not-boyfriend-yet a new shirt. Fenris is a little surprised to find that Anders not only believes him, but understands and wholly supports his sexuality. 🖤💜💟💜🖤

[protect-him]

Ace!Fenris Fic Teaser: First Kiss

It’s both the first week of No Angst August and @dragonageaspecweek and I wasn’t sure how to participate since my Ace!Fenris is still in the outlining phase, but I decided to write a teaser for it! I was also inspired by @fendersassoc and the First Kiss theme for the first week of No Angst August, so here I’ve written an Ace!Fenris teaser for a Fenders Soulmate AU, and it’s their first kiss! 

Fenders under the cut~~

Anders ran a thumb over the letters on Fenris’ wrist as Fenris looked away, embarrassed.

“It really is you,” Anders said in an awed whisper. “You were so dismissive I thought I had to be mistaken. Even though—” He turned his wrist to show Fenris the name there. “I'd never met a Fenris before.”

Fenris pulled his arm away and shuffled his feet in the sand, looking down at the waves gently lapping against his ankles. This was what he had been hoping for, yet what he'd been afraid of even before meeting Anders.

Anders turned to look at the sunset.

“I always dreamed about my soulmate,” Anders said quietly. “Tall, dark, and handsome, maybe a bit reckless. My imagination was never short of scenarios. How we’d meet. Our first kiss.”

“I don’t think I can do this,” Fenris said quickly. “I'm not—”

“I'm not saying we should go home and have sex tonight,” Anders said. “We don't even have to kiss. But can you give it a chance?”

“I didn't want a soulmate,” Fenris said. “Everything I've seen in the movies—I don't like it.”

“This isn't a movie,” Anders said. “Real life is better than that. Let me just try to show you.” He turned back to Fenris.

Fenris looked upset. He gripped his wrist as if he could squeeze away the mark. He was biting his lips too. Anders decided to try a different approach.

“What don't you like about the movies?” Anders asked, squatting down to play his hands in the salty water.

Fenris took a deep breath. Then sighed.

“The one thing every movie has.”

“Soulmates?”

“Sex.”

“Oh.”

Fenris sighed again.

“You don't… want sex,” Anders said. It was starting to make sense now. He noticed that Fenris looked unhappy.

“There's nothing wrong with you,” Anders hurried to explain. “It's just the way you are. Nothing's broken.”

“Every movie I've seen would say differently,” Fenris said. “It's what soulmates do, sooner or later.”

“See,” Anders stood up. “This is where real life gets better.” He scrubbed his hands on his shorts to dry them.

“I'm indifferent about sex,” he said bluntly. “And obviously we would talk about everything. I wouldn't do anything you're uncomfortable with.”

Fenris looked sideways at him, a little wary of something that sounded too good to be true. Despite the things that should irritate him about Anders, he liked the man. He was thoughtful and intelligent. Fenris was really just afraid of the day when Anders would ask him for sex.

“If you never want sex,” Anders said, “that's perfectly fine with me.”

“I have heard about your… experience in sex,” Fenris said dubiously.

Anders turned to Fenris and reached for his hand.

“Fenris. I was young. I wanted people to like me and it seemed like what everyone was doing. I didn't love it, and I'm not proud of it. Isabela might be, but I'm not. It's been at least ten years since then. I'd give it up completely in a heartbeat for you.”

“... for me?”

“Haven't you felt it?”

Fenris felt his heart throbbing in his chest. He could hardly think of anything else. This man respected him, would gladly enter into a relationship free of sex with him. Fenris wanted to try it. So badly.

He nodded, once, blinking. The sun was setting over Anders’ shoulder. Each stray hair was silhouetted against the flaming orange, and Anders’ face was in shadow. But his eyes were bright. Liquid gold beckoned Fenris to trust him.

Fenris’ own eyes were partially closed against the sun, but the green was no less bright. Anders reached up with his other hand to brush back a strand of white hair that had escaped from Fenris’ hair tie.

“What do you want from me?” Fenris wasn't accusing, just confused and afraid. He searched Anders’ face for any sign that he would betray him.

“Nothing,” Anders said. “All I ask is a little trust to begin with. I don't want to be the man that hurt you. I won't demand anything you don't want to give me.”

Fenris reached up, searching for Anders’ hand. He grabbed it and pulled it down. They were linked by both hands and eyes now, the ocean nuzzling their ankles. They were an island on the lonely beach. Anders’ shoes and Fenris’ surfboard sat abandoned in the sand. The moment stretched into several minutes of comfortable silence. They searched each other, their hands resting between them. The sun went down and the water started to feel cold.

Anders broke the quiet with a subdued chuckle.

“Do you like this?”

Fenris looked puzzled. “Like what?”

“Holding hands together. Is this good?”

Fenris nodded and adjusted his grip so that he held Anders’ hands more firmly.

“I would like to try,” Fenris said, glancing away towards the horizon.

“We can go as slow as you need,” Anders said. “So holding hands?”

“I like this,” Fenris said.

“What else would you like? I don’t want to cross any li—”

“I’d like to kiss you.”

“Okay, so kissing is—” Anders’ eyes widened as Fenris pressed up and kissed him. Fenris’s toes sank into the sand and Anders had to shuffle one foot to keep from losing his balance, but then he closed his eyes and leaned into it. The kiss was too short, but Anders opened his eyes when Fenris pulled away.

“Okay?” He asked, slightly breathless.

Fenris smiled, a flash of brilliant white teeth. “Yes.”

Anders slipped one hand out of Fenris’ and rested it on his waist, at the same time lifting his other hand into a formal dancing pose.

“How about this?” He asked. “Do you dance?”

Fenris looked a bit unsure. “Not well, but…” Fenris put his hand on Anders’ shoulder and looked at him expectantly.

Anders began to dance, carefully, since they were standing in six inches of moving water and on soft sand. Fenris followed him, quickly catching Anders’ rhythm.

“You’re good,” Anders said.

“You’re the one leading,” Fenris said, smirking. Anders turned and now he was facing the fading light of the sunset. He swept Fenris towards him and away, gaining confidence. He led Fenris into a turn. The water sloshed softly as Fenris spun and Anders reached to catch his waist again.

As he stepped closer to Fenris, his foot twisted unexpectedly on the sand and he fell, turning to land solidly on his backside in the water. Fenris jumped back quickly enough that he didn’t fall, though he did laugh and offer his hand to help Anders up.

Anders’ mouth hung open in surprise for a moment, and then he scrambled to grab Fenris’ hand and stand.

“The water is cold!” He complained.

“It’s getting dark,” Fenris pointed out. “We should probably be leaving now anyway.” Anders was still holding Fenris’ hand. He gently pulled Fenris towards the beach.

“Can I come up and make you dinner?” He asked.

“You want to use my shower, don’t you?”

“Mine’s broken again. Fair trade?”

“This time let’s not try to set the toaster on fire,” Fenris said, bending to pick up his surfboard with his free arm.

“It’s a good thing I live in the same apartment complex,” Anders said. “My toaster isn’t eight hundred years old like yours.”

“It works fine for me,” Fenris said as Anders picked up his shoes.

“And how many times have you used it?”

“Enough,” Fenris said, smiling again.

“I won’t make toast tonight,” Anders said, then stopped and waited until the tug on Fenris’ arm prompted him to stop and turn to look at Anders as well.

“This isn’t a date,” Anders said. “I want to make sure you know that.”

Fenris cocked his head, as if asking why Anders was so concerned about it.

“This is just us being together,” Anders said, “as friends. Just like we’ve been doing.”

“I wasn’t aware that we were friends before,” Fenris teased gently.

“I considered you a friend,” Anders said, “but that’s beside the point. What I wanted to say was: will you go on a date with me tomorrow night? I want to take you out and treat you like you deserve to be treated.”

Fenris blinked, his mouth opening slightly. In the fading light, the blush was only barely visible.

“I was going to keep the destination a surprise,” Anders continued, “but if you aren’t comfortable with that, I’ll tell you.”

“No need,” Fenris said, tugging on Anders’ arm to pull him closer. He stepped closer to Anders, rising up a little on his toes until their noses were almost touching. “I accept your offer,” he said softly. “I will go on a date with you.”

Anders blinked, mesmerized by the light in the green eyes only inches from his face.

“Fenris…”

“I trust you.”

Fenris rose up on his toes the rest of the way, kissing Anders again, using their linked hands to steady himself. Their kiss was still short, but left both of them feeling tingly and warm. Anders was proud and so happy that Fenris had not only listened to him after so often complaining about soulmates, but had even agreed to try being with Anders. Fenris was still afraid, but he’d known Anders for some time, and Anders had never done anything to make Fenris mistrust him. Sure, he was ridiculous, had too many cats in his apartment, and would knock on Fenris’ door every other night to use something, but he was kind and respectful. Fenris would trust him. He wanted to see what this was like. Perhaps even people like him, who thought that they would never be accepted in a world of sexual desire, could find love too. Maybe he wasn’t so broken after all.