officialvarrictethras asked:

"Don't worry, Anders. I'll be back before you know it." Garrett had said these words to him the morning that he left, and though Anders desperately wanted to believe it, something still /gnawed/ at his stomach as he watched his lover ride off into the sunrise. Varric's letter was vague as to how long Hawke would be needed for. Anders keeps himself busy in the meantime, healing the sick and injured. But he takes an hour everyday to stare at the horizon and wonder. And then the letter comes.

ominousdeer asked:

Okay since it's heart-shattering time, I've always wanted to share this one. So the Arishok fight obviously wasn't an easy one, and Hawke can be terribly injured, even if they won. Meredith, however, enters right after the fight is over and even if Hawke is nearly dying Anders probably can't heal them in front Meredith. Or he might try, but Hawke asks him not to. So he either watched some circle mages heal them or Hawke is carried home and Anders curses himself for every precious lost minute.


Just imagine him waiting for the healers to arrive and only barely managing to hold himself back. His teeth are gritted, fists are clenched, and his nails are digging into his palms. Their other companions are giving him warning looks, making clear what he already knows.

He’s watching the blood pour of of them, mentally measuring how much they’ve lost already. He already knows which injuries need tending first, exactly how to do it, and he watches the healers do it wrong, costing Hawke a few more precious minutes.

He could’ve been done by now, he knows that. Yet he watches these Circle mages with absolutely no real experience with actually fatal injuries go through the process with agonizing slowness. Hawke was in danger before they got here, there’s no time for this.

It takes everything in him not to push them all out of the way and take over himself, but he knows better. It’s what Hawke wants, so he must stay still, wait it out, and hope Meredith doesn’t wind up killing the one she just named as Champion by leaving this to the inexperienced.

When it’s finally over, he nearly collapses with relief. Even if he would’ve been faster, Hawke is going to live. That’s all that matters to him. They’ve closed the wounds, and he’s not going to lose the one he loves. For the moment, it is okay.

But he swears he won’t let it happen again, not ever.

Maud Newton on David Foster Wallace and the legacy of his postmodern semantic hijinks (viz. the internet). it’s a nice read. direct.

I’ve done a fair share of “like me” in my writing. also other stuff. (i’ve got more “fuck you” in store. but you know, maybe after the book…tee hee)

but there’s also the issue of feeling like most people, who are not writers etc., don’t necessarily read with the same sense of purpose, let alone rigor. they read for fun and likability. When Maud says, “Where the craving for admiration and approval predominates, intellectual rigor cannot thrive, if it survives at all.” it’s a nice declarative line, but it’s also wrong. People do stinkpieces on issues with a significant emotional quotient all the time, and no amount of diligence or intellectual rigor will necessarily yield an emotional truth. don’t believe me, ask the media power bachelors and bachelorettes. or a doting mother who raised a stern nerd. and in any case wouldn’t most people prefer to spend time with a likable person than a relentless debater? this is what my friends tell me at least. (and this is not to confuse faux-likability or whatever, which is a different and awful thing).

I could be wrong, or maybe I’m being evasive, but I’m not sure debating is a means to an end; it might just be something we like to do. a debate is more like an argument massage. and yes, i like a good rigorous one but the goal is just to feel good. get the endorphins going. I think Maud’s piece is awesome and appropriate for these days and times (I’m down to reign in the exclamation points), but the thesis should be a retreat from willy-nilly poorly executed fake charm and affectation. not charm itself. (plus, if you’re going to be direct then you might as well punch the too-smiley people in the mouth. if we wanna get “real talk” about it.).

 …but y’know, I <3 <3 <3 Maud, read her stuff, think she’s great, and in terms of writing on the netzies, I agree a direct approach can perhaps more easily get us on the same page. sometimes life does follow the instruction manual and we should all be familiar. so read with rigor, follow the directions, get on the bus and sit down. but then it’s all Big Road Trip To Likable City (yayyy!!! amirite?? yay!!?)

anyways, this is all a tricky preface before saying that my excuse is serious mommy issues. so i don’t know what everyone else’s problem is.