So. Evidently, Liz seems to get plenty of Fenris art on her dash, but no Anders (HOW is this even possible, I ask). I told her I would rectify this situation for her, therefore photo set of previous Anders artwork of mine.
ENJOY LIZ. (And everyone else, too, I guess ahahahahah.)
it’s that ever so familiar lean and pull, the tension between them and the reciprocal, physical attention between them, what matches and what doesn’t match: anders’s slim forearms and hawke’s heavy biceps; the small of anders’s back and the thick muscle at hawke’s flank; and the arch of anders’s wrist, the arch of hawke’s brow. the smirks they wear together. one has fur at his shoulders and the other has feathers; one has a high collar and the other a metal gorget. one has buckles, the other a belt. only one of them has ever successfully grown a full beard. but both have pouches at their sides—and both have someone else at their sides, too. it’s that sneaky, wicked moment before a kiss, anders’s face softening and hawke’s body so completely drawn into his, gravity undeniable, humor unmistakable. and then anders’s fingers come up to graze the center of hawke’s broad chest, and hawke unhooks his thumb from the edge of his belt, and their noses brush together, and their smiles turn into something parted, something eager…and someone across the taproom—probably corff—shouts get a room!
they’re having a little mage showdown, aren’t they? i think it’s this line that always makes me place anders at thirtyish here, older, old enough to call hawke boy, a line hawke might never let him live down. (and they have so many between them.) it’s just one of those darktown things, like when two dogs circle each other and make so much noise and bare their teeth and then, years later, when they sleep together for warmth, chins folded over each other’s paws, they huff and twitch at dreams of how they met: so foolishly, so angrily, before they knew they needed to work together, those old instincts hard at play and harder at work, like so many unwanted creatures find themselves a pack—or find themselves a mate.