I'm just getting a weird deja vu (despite the desolation of being replaced) about that Valentines Day Web Comic that Crashboombanger dubbed.... Mania, you dont like the humans, you like the roubutt..... '-'
I. The curtain opens with Dorothy in Kansas saying, “I never wanted to leave home.” Van Gogh is last seen weeping in front of Starry Night, wondering why love could be so cruel. HOW DARE YOU CALL THIS INFINITY AND THEN LEAVE II. you did not give me the opportunity to love you. you collapsed into me and then you left. I was still catching my breath. I am still catching my breath. III. Hollow. Barren. I am not desolate. I am the sun and you never even looked my way.
i’m just going to start a running list of anders and fenris wank whenever i see it. i don’t think people realize how much people hate both of them, and for literally the same reasons (they always complain about mages/templars, they’re so whiny, i couldn’t wait to give him back/stick a knife in his back). if you don’t want to see this post, please block it. i am tagging it, and any time i reblog it with new ones, #glowstick fanwank, along with #anders critical, #fenris critical, and #fandom critical.
Cape Schmidt sits at the northeasternmost corner of Siberia, a place that is by definition remote. But even by that measure, this former Soviet airbase is particularly desolate, a place so devoid of light and color that every photo Andrey Shapran made there appears to be black and white.
The haunting images in Cape North reveal a forgotten place where snowdrifts cover abandoned military equipment and buildings crumble from age and neglect. You can almost feel the cold, and the desolation. “There isn’t a living soul around,” Shapran says.
“It may well be that in the heart of man there is a goodness that is divine, that we are Jesus-kin. But that is only half.” His face contracted and darkened. “The other half is the Betrayer, the Liar, the Murderer, the Fornicator, the Cannibal, the Prince of Darkness. And I know, by thunder, that I have kinship there. It’s that half of me that wants to be called brother.” So ready was his pain, so anguished his speech, that a word leapt from me to him, as lightning might leap from one cloud to another: “Brother,” I said.
From “Ahab’s Wife: or, The Star-Gazer” by Sena Jeter Naslund
Ahab is one of my most favoured guides for exploring the deep dark recesses of the lonely and desolate and defiantly exulting.
This passage in particular speaks to my Dark Sider nature. The powerful, unpredictable, and often dangerous presence of the darker side of the soul, so speak, if we have one, is also the very same that yearns for and values dearly the intimate ties of friendship and family. In my experience, it is not despite the dark side that one reaches for these connections, but often because of it, and often inspired by it. Love and belonging, camaraderie and kinship are not sourced only in the light, or in the soft and agreeable and idealistically beautiful. To be able to feel and crave and provide such things, one doesn’t need to be pure or upright or holy or whatever other adjective commonly associated with the light that is currently popular to sling about. Despite what the dominant voice in society would have you to believe,
they are not the exclusive domain of the Lawful Good Hero.
It is not a requirement that one be innocent or agreeable or even approved-of to love and be loved, to want or offer such, or to claim family and friendships. And not just that, but to want and offer such in full awareness of and embracing the darker, “less desirable” parts of oneself. These are parts of who I am - they make me up and complete me. To love and accept me, to call me brother, is to love and accept all of me, without rejection or trepidation of the “less desirable” parts. I value every part of me and how it came to be there, and those who can recognize and appreciate what many would rather choose to attempt to invalidate or misguidedly “redeem”, those who know that attitudes and experiences that make up my core deserve to be treated with respect and dignity, whether demon or angel or spirit or human fucking being, those are the people I can gladly call my kin in return. No matter how few and far between they might be.
Was it mean-spirited of him to feel absolute glee when the
immigration officers knocked on Fenris’ door? Yes, yes it was, but oh, to see
the condescending face finally be stricken with disbelief and desolation. It
warmed Anders’ itty, bitty, bitter heart.
He glanced around to see who would notice his shit eating
grin. Then, when someone admonished him- as they eventually would- he could go
on and on about all the times Fenris put him down or mocked him for his cause.
Rather than feel sorry for the bloke being deported, Anders couldn’t wait to
see him leave. Good riddance and all that.
But no one noticed him. Everywhere he looked, from the
devil-may-care Isabela to the witty and charming Hawke, only sad faces and
broken heart met his eyes.
Anders raised an eyebrow. “What? Why are you all so
bloody sad? Aren’t you going to do anything? You’re just going to let them take
Varric shook his head. “And what do you suggest Blondie?
We can’t get into a fight with the officers and help Fenris run away.”
“Why not? It’s no different to what we do when Hawke
asks us to help out.”
“It’s different,” the bounty hunter snarled,
“because chasing runners is legal. I…I’m sorry, Fenris. Is there…Is
there nothing we can do? Maybe if we pay-”
“I’m sorry, Hawke. Fenris’ employer explicitly said if
found, we must deport him immediately.” The blond officer, Cullen was his
name if Anders remembered correctly, grimaced. “It’s the law. No amount of
money can change the fact he’s here illegally. However, since you all seem to
care for his well-being, perhaps you can be his guarantees and start the
process of legal immigration. Since you’re the Champion, the Viscount might expedite
“That can take a decade! Who knows what Danarius will
do to him during that time! Please! I’ll talk to the Viscount. Give us some
“I’m sorry, but the law is the law. We have a plane to catch.
Anders watched Fenris deflate, surprised the elf didn’t have
it in himself to fight. Where was his usual arrogance? Who was this person meekly
following the officers leading him back to his life of servitude? “You guys
seriously are going to let him go..? Just like that?” As much as Anders
hated the elf, he couldn’t believe Hawke was going to let people take one of
her companions away so easily.
But as Hawke, Varric and the others continued to stand
there, doing nothing as Fenris was hauled off, Anders looked up towards the
heaven for patience. “You really do hate me don’t you?” he murmured
under his breath. He groaned in his disgust and ran after the elf. Ugh, him and
his martyr complex.
“Wait! You can’t take him.” Anders slammed the car
door shut, stopping Fenris from getting into the car.
“Out of the way, sir! If you’re going to get in the way
of our duties, we’re going to have arrest you.”
“We’re going to get married,” Anders blurted out. “So
yes he is here legally! So get your
hands off my fiancé!” The mage shoved his way to Fenris’ side, shielding
him from the officers. As he put his hand on Fenris’ shoulder, he felt the elf
tense under his touch. Anders squeezed it, hoping by the Maker for once Fenris
played along. If you don’t want to go
back, you better behave!
“You can tell Danarius, Fenris won’t be going back to
Tevinter. He’s a Ferelden citizen now.”
Cullen narrowed his eyes. “You two are engaged?”
he asked. “Why didn’t anyone say anything sooner?”
“Um, we were keeping it a secret. Fenris and I, uh, decided
to hook up a week ago. Right, sweetheart?”
Anders pinched Fenris’ nape when the elf obstinately refused
to answer. “Yes,” he grudgingly said, “the abomina-”
Another pinch. “The mage,”
Fenris corrected himself, “and I are due to marry. It is most
“Fortunate!” Anders slapped a hand over Fenris’
mouth. “You mean fortunate, darling.” To Cullen and the other
officer, he apologetically said, “Sorry, his Common is lacking. Isn’t
fluent in it yet. We’re still practicing.”
There was a suspicious gleam in Cullen’s eyes, but he didn’t
question them about the validity of their relationship. “When are you
planning to get married?”
“Um, by the end
of this month?”
“Make it by the end of this week.” The blond
officer scribbled something in his pad and ripped out a document, handing it to
Anders. “Go to City Hall and fill in a marriage certificate immediately, and apply for a green card.
Someone at the office will take your case and review it very thoroughly to make sure your marriage is bona fide and not a
sham. Do I make myself clear?”
“Crystal.” Anders nodded, stuffing the document
into his pocket.
“Do not make me regret my decision.” Cullen glanced
between the mage and the elf before leaving with a nod.
The moment the officers were out of sight, Fenris shoved
Anders away from him. “Mage!” he spat the word out like a curse.
“Engaged? Married? Who would wish to shackle themselves to you! I would
rather die than let myself be chained to another mage!”
“A thank you would be appreciated!” Anders shot
back. “I just saved your hide! The same goes for me too, you know. I
rather get flayed than be married to a hateful, bigoted elf like you! The
“Guys, guys, settle down!” Varric stepped between
the two males. “This is no way to start a marriage. Now why don’t you two
kiss and make up?”
“No one is getting married,” Anders shot Fenris an
icy glare. “At least not me. I only said that to save this ungrateful
elf’s ass.” He jabbed a finger to Hawke. “So long as someone marries
him by the end of the week, he should be safe from deportation.”
Slowly, Anders turned his head to face the rest of the
group. Hawke pointedly avoided Anders gaze, and Isabela scratched her head
“Guys…” The mage began, but was interrupted by
“Look, I would love to help, but my mother would never
agree. She has suitors lined out the door for me. She’d give Fenris away if
anyone asked her since a once married woman can’t fetch a ‘suitable’ husband.
“I married once,” Isabela said. “And I swore
to myself I’ll never do it again. Even if it’s fake and for Fenris’ sake, it’ll
leave a bad taste in my mouth. I can’t.”
All eyes turned on Merrill, and the Dalish perked up.
“Oh. How fun. Who’s is getting married? I do love weddings.”
“Andraste’ flaming knicker weasels,” Anders cursed
when it was obvious Merrill couldn’t lie to save her life. That only left one
What did he get himself into this time?
Darkspawn Void was what it was. That was what Anders got
Anders kept himself from grimacing as he signed his name on
the document with a flourish. Rather than filling out a marriage certificate,
he felt as if he just signed his own death. He looked over to his side and knew
Fenris felt the same way. This must be the saddest marriage Thedas ever
witnessed…and they had to be married for a minimum of three years and make it
believable. Oh joy…
Anders shouldn’t have laughed when the officers came for
Karma was an absolute bitch.
A/n: Lol I wasn’t quite cackling over this, but there are two upcoming scenes that had me laughing. I’m not sure if I’m making this into a series, so we’ll see. At least for sure there’s two more after this, so please look forward to that xD
Where forlorn sunsets flare and fade On desolate sea and lonely sand, Out of the silence and the shade What is the voice of strange command Calling you still, as friend calls friend With love that cannot brook delay, To rise and follow the ways that wend Over the hills and far away?
Hark in the city, street on street A roaring reach of death and life, Of vortices that clash and fleet And ruin in appointed strife, Hark to it calling, calling clear, Calling until you cannot stay From dearer things than your own most dear Over the hills and far away.
Out of the sound of the ebb-and-flow, Out of the sight of lamp and star, It calls you where the good winds blow, And the unchanging meadows are; From faded hopes and hopes agleam, It calls you, calls you night and day Beyond the dark into the dream Over the hills and far away.