#and for that you have my eternal gratitude

[letters-from-himring-hill]

@scleroticstatue and @exploding-the-wine-cellar (@sweetcardamom, @kanerallels, and @awwyeah-rambles do you want to be on the Terrafell tag list?) this weekend's activities have inspired me to headcanon what my current adventure party (plus Nik because I like him) would do on clearing and burning day in the woods:

Gavrel: Helps build the burn pile, as he can probably lift a whole tree one-handed. Volunteers for any and all hard manual labour, in fact. Knows what the chainsaw is and delights in it. Enforces water breaks for everyone. Also helps provide lunch (he probably pulls out a cast iron dutch oven once the fire has died down and makes an astonishingly good meal cooked in the coals).

Atticus: A bit too fond of looking neat to throw logs around for fun, I think, but he's not to be outdone by Gavrel so he'll also help haul wood. He will 100% use magic to keep himself neat during this process (if he doesn't just use magic to pick up an entire tree or something equally over the top) and then be very smug when Gavrel ends up with leaves in his hair. Does not know what the chainsaw is but is fascinated by it (a mystery object that does NOT run on magic? How!). Offers to light the fire by magic but might wait until the Normal Non-Magical people have already tried both newspaper and diesel before doing so.

Furniture Man: Supervises the proceedings. Warns if someone is about to pull down a branch on his head. Helps to put out the fire by magic, and possibly also to roll up the hoses (thereby earning the eternal gratitude of everyone).

The Doc: Does not know what the chainsaw is and does not like it. Fully prepared to reattach someone's limb under unsanitary conditions if he must. Pleasantly surprised when the day ends with no serious injuries.

Nik: in his element here only slightly less than he would be in combat. There is camaraderie, there is fire, there is hard work to do. Does not know what the chainsaw is but delights in it anyway.

Does this seem accurate?

[sammakesart]

In Which the Dread Wolf Is Saved By, of All Things, Love.

The blade slices into his palm, blood seeping from the wound and soaking into the leather of his glove. A thought emerges as she watches him: It is the same hand that once held the mark on her own palm. He squeezes his fist, the blood dripping down onto the stone. 

“My life force now sustains the Veil.”

His eyes find hers, a brief moment as their gazes meet and hold. An eternity, over too soon. 

“With every breath I take, I will protect the innocent from my past failures.”

Her gaze falls to his fist, and her heart aches. It is done.

“The Titan’s dreams are mad from their imprisonment. I cannot kill the blight, but I can help soothe its anger.”

She watches as he looks down to the dagger, then extends it to Rook.

“I will go,” he says. His eyes meet hers once more as he speaks his last words. To her. For her. “And seek atonement.”

He tears his gaze away, and she watches as he turns, his steps sure and steady as he walks toward the tear in the sky.

They are running out of time.

It is then she makes her decision, though it was no decision at all. She knew—she has always known—what she would do given this choice. 

“But you do not have to go alone.”

He had stopped before she spoke, perhaps hearing the fall of her steps, perhaps in the hope of one final goodbye. He turns as she finishes her declaration, his lips parted in surprise, but he clasps her hands as she stretches them towards him. His grip trembles ever so slightly. She notices the shine in his eyes as tears well, but he does not deny her. He only offers her a warning. It is the only thing he can offer her. 

“Where I am going is terrible.”

She smiles, shakes her shake. 

“It won’t be terrible if you’re with me. We make this journey together. Always.”

The words are reminiscent of the last verse of Dalish wedding vows. She wonders if he catches the significance, but by the way his grip tightens, she suspects he understands. 

She leans in, but then stops, waiting for him to close the last stretch of space between them. His lips meet hers without hesitation, cracked and bloody as they are. She doesn’t care. He tastes of iron and ash, and yet still of him. 

His mouth moves against hers, and she wishes to wrap her arms around him, to pull him close, but she fears causing him any further pain. She has seen the wounds on his face, saw him clutching at his right side as he ascended the steps before she crossed the threshold. She can only imagine the wounds hidden beneath his battered armor. She had glimpsed the state of his dread wolf as it tore the throat out of Elgar’nan’s archdemon. 

There will be time for such things later, after he has rested and healed. Time will never be something they are in want of now.

***

He savors her for as long as he dares, then presses his lips firmly against hers before pulling away. His mouth curves into a soft smile. Just for her. 

There is no force—divine or otherwise—that can part him from her now. Not unless she wishes it.

He holds her gaze for one more moment, the burn of tears still threatening to spill sting his eyes. But he blinks them away quickly, and glances back at Rook. 

“Thank you, Rook.”

Then his eyes fall back to her. He cannot get enough. 

He is not unaware that Rook had to have had a part to play in this once-thought impossible reunion. 

There will never be words or action enough to show his gratitude, especially to someone he has so gravely wronged. And yet, they still have orchestrated the return of his heart to him. A gift he knows he does not deserve, but he will endeavor to earn. 

He squeezes her hands once more—one flesh, one formed—and turns, walking towards the last remaining tear in the Veil. He crosses his hands before him to keep from reaching out, reaching back to hold her to him. She must make this choice freely. 

He doesn’t even dare look, afraid if he does, he will find no one and nothing. That these last few minutes have all been a dream conjured by his addled mind and his bone-deep exhaustion—for what else could it be but a dream? That, after all this time, after everything he’s done, she would seek him out once more. That she would forgive him. Love him still. Choose to be with him, despite where he must go. 

There is a moment where he fears she has changed her mind, or he was correct in his first assumption that she was never here at all. His chest tightens… and then releases as he feels her hand rest upon his shoulder. She is here. She is real. 

With the last ounce of strength he has, he wraps them in his magic and spirits them into the Fade, leaving her world behind. Perhaps for good. 

He took away her ability to choose once, many years ago, when she first asked to join him while standing in the Crossroads. It had torn him in two to deny her, but he knew then that he could not allow her to follow the path he had to tread. Could not allow it to twist her hope into despair, like his own purpose had been twisted long ago. 

For so long, his life has only been duty and destruction. He is unsure of how to be anything else.

When he finds himself once again in the prison of his own making, his knees give out from under him. The weight of the last few hours, few weeks, few years, dragging him to the hard unforgiving stone of his regrets. But this time, he is not alone. 

She kneels before him, carefully cradling his face in her palm, her skin so warm against his. “Vhenan,” she whispers as her thumb strokes lightly over his cheek, and it takes him a moment to realize he is crying, truly crying. The tears that had threatened to fall when he first took her hands in his have now been set free. He crumples into her lap, his forehead pressed the against her stomach as she gently strokes his head and down his back, offering words of comfort, her voice thick with her own tears. She has saved him. He has doomed her. 

The weight of that realization is enough to crush him to dust. He pulls back, eyes searching hers. His hands shake as he reaches up to hold her face. Perhaps there is still time…

“These are my burdens to bare,” he rasps. “I cannot ask you to carry them with me.” 

“You do not have to, vhenan.” She holds his hand to her cheek. “I chose this. Freely. Just as I chose you.”

She presses a kiss to the heel of his hand, the one still wet with his blood. “Being with you is no burden, Solas, not to me. It is a joy.”

Their foreheads meet, pressed together as they once again take each other’s hands.

She is here. She is real. He still cannot believe it.

“Ar lath ma, vhenan.”

Then he says the words she had gifted him, a vow he will hold sacred for as long as they both shall live. 

“Vir shiral malasa. Bellanaris.”

[sluttyhenley]

And he goes straight to Victory Lane.

DAYS OF THUNDER (1990) dir. Tony Scott

[kakanoonoo]

It has been said before, but I too want to express my love for how the amazing artists in the svsss fandom utilise SQQ's fan and LBH's demon mark.

Like, I adore when whatever SQQ's thinking is written on the fan, or when LBH has a heart on his forehead. It can be so funny or really sweet!

[jovenshires]

the right side of my neck (6.17.23)

happy one year, spommy nation <3

[wisteriaphyte]

we're long gone, in that eternal flame

[doink-boink]

I love Aviva so much you do NOT UNDERSTAND!!! She's so silly dude!!

[croftersforlife]

Wanderlust: Rosebud, you love me right?

Jack Rose: Normally, I would say yes without hesitation, but I have a feeling this is going somewhere I won’t like

[luna-loveboop]

I like how Jojo said they can have one (1) eye with colour

[revenantghost]

Please, I beg, does anyone have that post about the nuances of the translation of some of Vash and Wolfwood's final lines on the couch and how they call back to some of their earlier moments in the manga? Help???

[fabaceous]

a fucked up shaunanigan cant be shauna doing something that has actual intelligible reasoning behind it. beating up lottie was not a shaunanigan because it was an understandable (if incredibly violent) expression of grief and anger. eating the ear WAS a shaunanigan because what the fuck? like a shaunanigan has to have an element of “hahah im so randommm teehee :3” and it has to originate from some ridiculously repressed part of her or else its not a shaunanigan its just like. a thing she does.

[scenegraph]

“I promise I’m going to find a better way to remember you than this, okay? Something I can do to make the world a little better, the way you did.”

[vinelark]

survived a Meeting on a Friday so i’m diving back into my inbox to give more recs soon 🫡

[appalesbian]

top asami enthusiasts, i need your help. what are we thinking korra would call asami in the bedroom? looking for more suggestive than a standard pet name (honey, love, etc) but not quite as intense as like. mistress. thoughts??

[punkrockisafulltimejob]

For those who are unsure of whether or not they really have the "sensitivity to cold" symptom of fibromyalgia, because you think that it's just you not being able to handle colder temperatures like other people, that's one way of putting it. The other way is, when it's winter and the temperatures start dropping, do you feel your pain more intensely? Do you feel like you have more problems with your joints? Is your partner always commenting how cold your fingers and toes are, but it somehow gets more frequent in winter? Those are other ways to consider being sensitive to the cold.

[glorfindel-of-imladris]

You mentioned ballads as inspiration. Do you know Heather Dale? She has so many great ballads!

I love 'As I am' for example.

'The Trial of Lancelot' says so much as well..

There is 'I follow my king' or 'The Old Duke' (such good songs!)

She has one song about Tristan and Isolt that often leaves me in tears..

If you don't already know Heather Dale, I hope you enjoy 😊

Hello! Thank you so much for these recs. I haven't heard of her actually, but I have looked for the songs in the list and they are lovely. I did have a period in my life when I really enjoyed listening to music like this, so this brings back wonderful memories. 🥰

Honestly though, when I said my works were inspired by ballads, I meant really cheesy Asian love ballads! 🙈 But! Please hear me out! Asian ballads have a precious place in my heart because—okay, because I'm Asian, yes—but also for me, they reach a level of emotion that I never seem to get from Western English songs. I'm aware it could be cultural, but I also think it's because Asian languages in general are not straightforward and so they have a unique way of phrasing emotions, which also affects the style of melody (e.g., notes sustained longer, high emotion in chorus). It's truly an experience. I know the styles are very different from what you shared, but in case you're interested in what they're like, here are some examples (all with English lyrics translations):

Love You With All My Heart - Crush (Korean, my latest love and the song to which Helcaraxe!Glorfindel was drawn 😆)

Kilometer Zero - Ian Pangilinan (Filipino)

The Pain You Never Knew - Joker Xue (Mandarin)

Moratorium - Omoinotake (Japanese)

Love in the Ice - DBSK (Japanese, but by a Korean band - the Japanese version just hits different for me)

Why Don't You Stay - Jeff Satur (Thai)

214 - Rivermaya (English! But by a 90's Filipino band, so still cheesy and heartfelt in that very Asian way 🥹)