#canders

[yjrii]

i'd rather die than draw without a reference

the colors look rlly flat to me but ill fix it another time 😴

[sandersmd]

thia is cuddy's weird boyfriend

[ruata1]

and you are ready to die in this swimming pool       because you wanted to touch his hands and lips and this means                                                        your life is over anyway.

— Richard Siken, A Primer for the Small Weird Loves

Definitely “friends” /wink-wink/

[ansburg]

have you heard from carver at all? . . . it's not easy, being a warden. sometimes it's better to cut all ties with your old life. when i joined, all i wanted was an escape from the circle. but it's more. it's a calling, it really is. carver's the kind of man who can find fulfillment in battling the darkspawn. he'll do fine.

[hoskky]

Commission for @ansburg. Full picture over on Twitter.

[agentlemanofthevoid]

that’s it, that’s the whole ship pre-origins

bonus: i used the cat meme for cullen’s pose so did a quick mr. wiggums to match

[misscricket]

Canders

Oh @stark-illerbase, let me take you on a journey...

Anders and Carver don’t like each other in Act 1 of Dragon Age II. That’s putting it mildly. Carver is a young man probably suffering from PTSD, grieving over his twin sister and struggling with the new life his brother and mother are pursuing. He strongly identifies as a Fereldan, hence the tattoo he got at Ostagar being a mabari, and he sees his mother trying to recapture the Amell name and legacy as almost a rejection of the Hawke lifestyle back in Lothering. As to the PTSD, not only did he see his beloved Twin sister get crushed by an Ogre right in front of his eyes, he was also at the Battle of Ostagar. He had to be dragged away from the battle by his fellow soldiers and told to run for it, or else he would have stayed, and fought and died right there, so determined was he to protect his country and family.

“ Said he wanted to protect his family. That someone had to, because his father had died and, well you know how the Champion turned out. Carver took it real serious...” (World of Thedas Vol 2)

Along with a love of using a sword, this was Carver’s motivation for signing up with the army, the Blight was threatening his home, and his family, and he saw it as his duty to protect them.

“The more ground we lost, the harder he swung that plank of a sword of his. He was shouting that we had to win, that it was to keep our homes safe. I swear he was crying when we finally tackled him, but damned if I’ll hold that against him. It took three of us to drag him to cover. I had to slap him back to his senses, to make him see that killing five, or ten, more ‘spawn wouldn’t matter. The wall was on us, and dying there wasn’t going to help anyone. I said if he wanted to do his family good, he’d get them safe. “  (World of Thedas Vol 2)

So he’s a bit of a prickleberry.

And then in comes Anders. Instantly he’s hyper focused on Carver’s brother, because Carver’s brother is a Mage. And Maker have mercy Carver has been hearing about the Mage plight for years. His whole bloody life actually. 

He acutely understands the realities of living with an Apostate mage family, from the perspective of someone inside the family unit who doesn’t have magic himself. He couldn’t be too good at anything, or excel, because it drew attention. He wasn’t a Mage himself, but he too lived as an Apostate, in fear of drawing the Templars gaze.

And then Anders says, 

Anders: I'm sorry about your sister. She sounds like a special girl. 

Carver: Why? Because she was a mage? 

Anders:  (If Hawke is male) Your brother says she had a good heart. Being on the run never made her bitter. (If Hawke is female) Your other sister says she was a good person. That she never turned down a chance to help people. 

Carver: Yes, yes. I'm sure the Chantry's got a shrine with her portrait on it. 

Anders: I was trying to be nice. 

Carver: Stick to surly. It works for you

And then this one

Anders: You don't like me, Carver? 

Carver: I don't like you. 

Anders: That's unfortunate. Hating someone just because they're a mage is a shameful thing. 

Carver: I don't hate you because you're a mage. I hate you because you won't shut up about it. 

Carver: Oppression this, templars that. I'd heard enough long before you. 

Anders: Maybe it's time you put some thought into it.

To Anders, Carver looks like the sullen, angry, bitter brother of two Mages, resentful of their powers or perhaps, even, hating them because of them.

This isn’t the case. Carver bitches and moans about his siblings, but most of his gripes are familiar to anyone who has an older or over achieving sibling.

When there is a legitimate threat, Carver immediately steps between Hawke and danger. When Fenris snarls about Mages, Carver, unprompted, says.

Carver: You have a problem with my brother/sister, you have a problem with me.

It’s instantly protective, and it’s far from the only incident in the game. He continually worries whenever Hawke talks to Templars, or stirs up Mage trouble, not because he hates Mages but because he’s worried for Hawke.

Anders however can no longer seem to see greys, it’s all black and white for him. Either you’re for Mages and then you want wholescale freedom and down the Templar order, or you’re a Mage hater, and as good as a Templar.

Carver’s stance on Magic is actually one of the most subtle and nuanced in the game, if not the whole series. He understands the dangers on a level most people, who haven’t lived with unfettered magic, can’t understand. But he also understands the joys and love of those with magic, and doesn’t believe locking them up in the Circle to be the right thing, despite his potential choice to be a Templar.

So Carver and Anders...

Enemies to Lovers

The fit this trope beautifully. Even in Act 1 with surly Carver and judgy Anders. But throw in Carver either being a Templar, the thing Anders hates most in the world, or him being a Grey Warden, the organisation Anders rejected. Oh the potential for angry arguments and heated kisses.

They are not so ideologically opposed that I think they couldn’t understand each other I think, and I think if they actually hashed it out together they’d actually find a lot of common ground. It’s just whether they could get there without the prickles throwing them off course is the question...and no Carver isn’t the only prickly one.

Templar Carver

Carver joins the Templar order for two reasons.

1. His brother/sister hasn’t returned from the Deep Roads with the rest of the expedition. Bartrand has likely told him they’re all dead. That leaves him and his mother alone in the world, and Carver can’t get work. The Guards won’t have him because Aveline told them not to, and the other options are mercenary jobs or the Templars. He no longer has any mage siblings to worry about being caught, and he doesn’t have to disclose that he had Mages in his family if he doesn’t want to.

2. His namesake was a Templar. I think giving him his piece of his identity makes Carver interested in the order in a  different way. Up until then they’ve kind of been the boogeymen of the Hawke children’s lives. ‘Be good or a Templar will get you’. But his father named him after a Templar, ‘skill thoughtfully applied’. There was some value to that path. And you can’t tell me that Carver wasn’t, in many ways, his family’s personal Templar. If Bethany or Hawke had fallen...would another Mage have been able to stand against them? They would have needed a swordsman. Carver.

Anders thinks Carver has joined the Templars out of spite, or hatred. But there is a wonderful array of fiction you can have with Anders and the Order and the fact they are continually trying to hunt Anders down. Carver wouldn’t stand for it, if one of his brothers companions was threatened, and he certainly wouldn’t want him to be hurt, killed or made Tranquil, which would have been his fate should Meredith have gotten her hands on him.

Grey Warden Carver

As for the Grey!Warden path, Carver thrives as a Warden, he blossoms under that structure and purpose where Anders did not. But they have the connection of Anders having been the one to beg Stroud to take him, to put him through the Joining.

We also know that Carver knows Nathaniel, who was friends with Anders during Awakening. This likely means he knows a number of the Ferelden Wardens, and you can’t tell me they wouldn’t be curious about Anders.

Alternate Universes ideas I have toyed with writing

Tevinter - Mage Healer who refuses to use Blood Magic and the son of a powerful Mage house who doesn’t have magic himself.

Special Agents AU - Agent Hawke and Anders have a turbulent relationship because the boy always comes back hurt.

Coffee Shop AU - Anders is an overworked and exhausted Doctor. Carver is his caffeine supplier.

Werewolf AU - Alpha Carver learns that being dominant doesn’t always mean barking orders, and Omega Anders learns that brooding wolves are definitely better lovers.

Mirror Universe - What it says on the box...darkfic.

Angel AU - Carver is Anders’ guardian Angel, and he grumbles about it a lot. He also keeps losing his feathers everytime he swears, and it makes Anders laugh at him.

and many many more.

To close out this rambling dissertation on the beauty that is Canders (praise be)

Enjoy this lovely fanart drawn by the talented @frikadeller in a commission for @autumnyte-old​

Case closed!

[shutupaboutandraste]

Hellooooo! How about a prompt from your summer list? For either Canders or Zevistair, stargazing. Happy Friday!

Why not both? ;) Thank you so much for the prompt I hope you like it! Words: 832 Pairings: Carver/Anders, Alistair/Zevran For @dadrunkwriting​ Fingers threaded tightly into each other. Stars twinkled, winking at the ground below, unblinking and apathetic to those that gazed upward at them. Calloused skin met calloused skin, desperate to feel that the other was real. A single tear, salty and cold, rolled down a cheek, absorbing into scratchy stubble. Years had taken their toll. Within the reddish-gold hairs there were flecks of white, the marks of age and stress. 

Old… He never should have lived long enough to grow old. Even now, he was hardly as old as others, even ones he knew twice his age. But no one’s life was exactly the same and he had made his life particularly hard. In fact, he had made everyone's life particularly hard. A shaking sigh escaped him. The hand holding his own clutched it, squeezing firmly. 

“Don’t think too much,” he heard his lover murmur. The younger man rolled over, letting thick fingers thread through golden locks, “You can’t blame yourself.” 

“I’m the only one there is to blame,” he reminded him. 

Teeth grit. A deep frown settled in on his lover’s face, trying to piece together words to comfort him. But there were no words the other could say. His presence was the only comfort he had anymore. Only the end of the war that he had helped escalate would bring him peace now. And he could do nothing to usher it forward-- he was hiding away, like the coward. 

A chaste kiss pressed against his lips. Life soared back into his chest, electrifying his heart. For a moment, he felt like himself again as his lover hovered over him, brighter than any star. His arms threaded upward, wrapping around the other man. He was all muscle with that flash of thick, dark hair with a sea of bright blue eyes. Even amidst the ruins of his life, there was one beautiful star who loved him anyway. 

“I love you.” A whisper against lips.

“I love you.” A rumble in affirmation. 

Honest. True. Hope.

Alistair let his fingers play with the edges of Zevran’s hair. They were both blonde, but Zevran had that lovely bright blond that seemed to glow in any light. His own was darker, it didn’t shine-- it was just hair. Like everything about Zevran, his hair was perfect and lovely. 

Stars twinkled above them while Alistair tried not to spy on Alistair and Carver below. When The Warden had requested he house Anders, Alistair had been apprehensive, but the other had come with his own personal guard. And, well, Alistair was a sucker for a good love story. Stargazing was a calming little date. Though, it was quite obvious their stargazing had shifted to kissing. Alistair couldn’t blame them. When you were in love it was one of life’s few comforts. His thumb rolled small locks between itself and his pointer finger. Each roll came with a satisfying calm of touch, each little hair pressing feather-like to the pads of his fingers. 

Lithe, tanned fingers reached up, threading their way under the collar of Alistair’s shirt. Cheeky. Maker, he was living a charmed life. 

“You have knitted your brows so tight you might as well make socks, caro mio,” hummed Zevran, pressing kisses to Alistair’s chin. 

The name made Alistair’s heart sing. Caro mio. My dear. Zevran had once explained it fully-- that in Antivan for something to be caro, it had to be precious, expensive. How Zevran could ever see someone like Alistair like that was beyond him. So, instead of asking and risking his good fortune, Alistair lifted Zevran’s other hand and pressed a kiss to his knuckles. 

He watched Zevran all but melt under the affection. A mischievous smile overtook Alistair’s face. Dirty talking wouldn’t even make the assassin flush, but act like a gentleman and suddenly he became putty. There was an act to it, of course. Zevran was a Crow at one time-- and now, Alistair was sure, slowly killing any competition in order to gain control over the Crows itself, which somehow made the other man more attractive-- which meant he was very good at holding back. To show this vulnerable tenderness meant the world to Alistair. Trust linked between them. 

His fingers traced the lines of Zevran’s tattoo. He could do this a million times and would still find new details, new reasons to love the pattern of the elf’s face. Alistair could get lost doing this. As they grew older, these moments were so few and far between. One day, though, he and Zevran would get to sit, damn who knew or who saw or what Eamon thought, and do this for as long as they both desired. 

“You tease me,” Zevran all but purred, reaching up to nip at Alistair’s lips, “Or are you more interested in star gazing?” 

Alistair shook his head, pressing a kiss to his lover’s lips, teeth knocking slightly against his flesh, “I’m far more interested in the sky right in front of me.”