fictional other gush || f/o journal

It's Not Me, It's You (Anders)

f/o '  Anders


tw ' n/a


god i love looking into how I argue because its SO immature I'm so immature its HORRIBLE I'm working on it anyway here's anders and I arguing 


context if you don't know who anders is (because it's pretty important so you don't get confused!) He shares a body with a spirit named Justice because he made a deal with a spirit a long time ago woo fun now you're pretty much caught up WOO
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 I almost trip over my boot string, hurrying after Anders. He stormed down the gloomy walls of Darktown. "For the last time, no," He snaps. We'd been running off at the mouth ever since Hawke released us from her grasp. He didn't want to talk about it. He never did. I'd meant to bring it up at a more private time, but it managed to slip out anyway.

"Wh- you're not even hearing me out!"

"I've heard you out many, many times before," Anders sighed through his nose. He slipped into his untidied clinic. His last patient had fully recovered days ago, so he had no reason to seem presentable to anyone.

"Well, you're not hearing me out this time." I bit back. As I slip past the open door of his clinic, the hook of my dagger sheath snags against a loose nail sticking out of the wood. It yanks me back.

He rubs his temple, turning around to face me as I try to unhitch my sheath. My fingers scratch against the nail as I uselessly tug at the hook. "Because I know what you're gonna say," He strolls over to me, "'Oh, maybe we can find a way to work with Justice and exorcise him from your body,' "His voice had gone high and nasally, eyes narrowing at me as he yanks my sheath from the nail. I stumble as I catch my balance.

"No. I've already tried." He said sternly.

I brushed myself off, finally entering his clinic without issue. Almost immediately, I lean against the door until it snaps shut, knowing nobody else in Darktown wants to hear us argue. "Stop mocking me!" My fingers twitch in frustration and shame. It makes me want to pull at the ends of my hair like I always do when I'm stressed.

He parts his lips, but silence comes out. He sighed, "I... I was kind of mocking you, sorry," And I'm not sure how he ever did it, but it always surprised me when he was able to stop himself mid-argument to realize that he'd done something wrong. Was it because he kept more of a level head than me? I'd bet on it. "I'm just frustrated," He apologized.

Anders approached me at the door; his expression had slackened from his previous tense and defensive one. "Darling, I love you, okay? Don't doubt that," His rough hands pressed up against my cheeks, taking my face in his hands. Usually, I'd flinch before chewing someone out for trying to touch me while still very present in an argument, but this was Anders. I trust him not to do any harm to me.

"I see that look where you get all mopey and slouchy when you feel like you've done something terrible," Terrible and irreversible. Varric says I need to stop being so hard on myself, but I think he just treats me too kindly. "But I'm not trying to be mean or make you feel that way,"

"I'm not mopey. I'm pissed." I said.

"Oh, that changes things completely then." It came out around a laugh.

"And, I'm a bit mopey," I spoke quieter now. "Just a little bit," More upset than pissed, in all honesty. Upset that I couldn't convince him to let me help. That I knew I'd pushed things too far. I press my cheek into his palm, resting my fingers over his. "I wanna help, Anders. I really do."

"I know you do, but you're not respecting the fact that I'm telling you no,"

"I'm respecting it!" I frowned. "I'm just - "

"You're just pushing it hoping I'll change my mind?" It didn't help that he pointed it out. If anything, his words sparked a pit of childish anger in my throat that I had to swallow. That's exactly what I was doing. It's something I told myself I'd stop doing - or at least stop doing so often - but clearly, that didn't work.

"I know how much you struggle with having to share a body with Justice," I try. He pulls the warmth of his hands from my face, untying his thick and bulky coat of armor, and sets it on his table. I continue, "I've been researching ways to maybe... fix it?"

"Love, I'm sure any methods you've come across I've already tried." He huffed.

"What if we try harder and eventually we'll succeed and you'll be free of him?"

An unlikely chance. We both knew it. And that's all it was; a chance. It wasn't even a sure guarantee.

"It would be pointless for you to research. I'm a mage, I've probably tried more than you've even thought of," Anders said. "I've accepted that I'm going to have this spirit inside me forever," The table creaked below him as he leaned against it. A stray blonde hair fell in front of his eyes as he glanced up at me again, "You need to accept it as well."

That was that. Or, that was supposed to be that if I didn't have a million other things I wanted to say. An immature part of me still wanted to convince him that my idea would be worth it. He just has to let me try. I didn't press it again, though. Only because I knew it would be downright offensive to try after he insisted so many times.

I'd just have to adapt. I stroll over to Anders to meet him at his table, hands knit together in front of me.

I fill my cheeks with a sigh waiting to happen, letting it slip past my lips with a puff. "So," I started. Again. "I've been talking with Merril."

He waved away my idea before I could even begin. "No, no no. Whatever it is. No." I went to speak before he cut in again, "and stop bringing Merril into my personal life!"

"She knows you have a spirit inside you! It's not like you keep a secret from her," I huffed. "Technically! It's not even personal!"

"Yes, well she's young, and contacts spirits she doesn't know, and frequently puts herself in danger, and is very -" He freezes at my scowl, quickly finishing before I can hark at him, "Don't give me that look! I wasn't going to say dumb." There was a pause between his words, "I was gonna say naive." He mused with a sort of fond sarcasm.

"But maybe she can help!"

He scrubbed his hands down his face, exhausting more of his weight onto the table, "We just went over this and my answer is still, undoubtedly, no,"

Even if I reiterated that she deals with spirits - that's her thing - and could maybe figure out a solution, I knew he wouldn't cooperate. It wasn't a secret that they didn't see eye to eye on the topic of spirits. Anders would more likely get frustrated and stomp off than actually sit down and let Merril try to help him. "I know, I just thought I'd mention it," I let my head fall back in defeat.

"To get shut down again?"

I jerked back up to meet his gaze, "Wuh- no! I was hoping maybe you'd be like 'Ooo, Merril, she's the one with the blood magic and the spirits, maybe she knows how to help.'"

Anders chuckled, "Why would you think that? I don't even like the fact that Merril contacts spirits in the first place,"

"I don't know!" I shrugged, my voice getting defensively higher. "Change of heart? Sudden realization? Something like that?" A snort came out through my nose.

"Well, you were sorely mistaken, love." He overlapped my hand in his as if it were by habit. I let my lips curl into a grin, and I lean into his side.

"Even if I'm not telling Merril about your personal life, I hope you know she's still my emotional support elf."

"What?" He laughed, "I thought I was your emotional support person,"

"Besides you," I said. "And you're not an elf." I pull back to press a tender kiss to his cheek. "You can't be the emotional support elf without it,"

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gay