#i made this really quickly. anyways

[zero-braincells-left]

smile of absolute derangement

[randomminty]

Five billion octopath 2 scribbles i feel sick

[frogb]

so do we think fog transforms them .

[ninja-knox-ur-sox-off]

Listen i don’t…. I don’t have words I just have vibes to present okay i just have vibes

[blluespirit]

I was thinking about the southern raiders again and i think one of the reasons i love it so much, is that despite not being in the group for very long, zuko immediately understands what katara needs to do more than anyone else in the group and takes it upon himself to give it to her - peace and to earn her forgiveness.

it's not really about revenge, its about confronting her trauma head on. ripping the monster from under the bed so it can no longer haunt her.

i like that zuko never puts an idea for what she has to do. it's actually aang who brings up revenge. zuko never says that's what she must do, and when she snaps back at Aang that hell, maybe revenge is what she needs, zuko doesn't shut her down either. its absolutely up to her.

the argument between aang, katara, zuko and sokka is telling - aang, while well meaning, can't understand katara's perspective. aang's pain is vast and deep and he has processed/is processing that in his own way, but what works for him, will not work for everyone. zuko sees katara's anger and it resonates with him - that is something he can understand.

I just love that zuko offers to find the man, and then goes all out defending katara's need to confront him. she needs this.

Here's the argument:

KATARA: We're going to find the man who took my mother from me. ZUKO: Sokka told me the story of what happened. I know who did it and I know how to find him. AANG: Um ... and what exactly do you think this will accomplish? KATARA: [shakes her head in dismay] Ugh, I knew you wouldn't understand. [begins to walk away] AANG: Wait! Stop! I do understand. You're feeling unbelievable pain and rage. How do think I felt about the sandbenders when they stole Appa? How do you think I felt about the Fire Nation when I found out what happened to my people? ZUKO: She needs this, Aang. This is about getting closure and justice.' AANG: I don't think so. I think it's about getting revenge. KATARA: [angrily] Fine, maybe it is! Maybe that's what I need! Maybe that's what he deserves! AANG: Katara, you sound like Jet. KATARA: It's not the same! Jet attacked the innocent. This man, he's a monster. SOKKA: Katara, she was my mother, too, but I think Aang might be right. KATARA: Then you didn't love her the way I did! SOKKA: [hurt] Katara! AANG: The monks used to say that revenge is like a two-headed rat viper. While you watch your enemy go down, you're being poisoned yourself. ZUKO: That's cute, but this isn't air temple preschool. It's the real world. KATARA: Now that I know he's out there ... now that I know we can find him, I feel like I have no choice. AANG: Katara, you do have a choice: forgiveness. ZUKO: That's the same as doing nothing! AANG: No, it's not. It's easy to do nothing, but it's hard to forgive. KATARA: It's not just hard, it's impossible.

but I also love that because none of this happens without zuko's knowledge.

zuko is just the means to an end, and he's okay with that. What katara ultimately decides to do is up to her;

but zuko is going make damn sure he's there to make sure she's able to make that decision:

they make it to the southern raiders and zuko charges in, deflects the commanders fire and when he asks them who they are, zuko responds perfectly. he's angry for her. he never tries to make it about himself and his actions confronting the Southern Raiders Commander and Yon Rah reflect this:

COMMANDER: Who are you? ZUKO: You don't remember her? You will soon, trust me. [katara starts bloodbending him. zuko looks shocked for a moment, before quickly returning his attention back to the commander] ZUKO: Think back. Think back to your last raid on the Southern Water Tribe. COMMANDER: I don't know what you're talking about. Please, I don't know! ZUKO: [bending down closer to the commander] Don't lie! You look her in the eye and you tell me you don't remember what you did. [katara realises he's not the man, says as much and begins to walk away. zuko realises he still has a role to play to help katara] ZUKO: [grabs the weak commander and pins him to the wall] If you're not the man we're looking for, who is? COMMANDER: You must be looking for Yon Rha. He retired four years ago.

He does it again when they confront Yon Rah:

[Yon Rha is walking. he stops and turns around once more] Nobody sneaks up on me without getting burned! [drops basket of vegetables and firebends at a nearby bush] sensing no one, he picks up the fallen vegetables and continues on his way. He unknowingly steps on a thin wire, causing him to fall into the mud. He tries to get up only to see a fire blast coming his way which he quickly avoids. Zuko appears before him. ZUKO: We weren't behind the bush. [zuko takes a step forward to threaten him] And I wouldn't try firebending again!

After this, zuko steps back and lets katara handle it in the way she sees fit.

even its inferred that zuko thought it was violence that katara needed by what he says to aang at the end of the episode;

ZUKO: You were right about what Katara needed. Violence wasn't the answer.

the point is he never says it to her and he keeps that largely to himself and when she decides to spare his life, while visibly shocked and hangs back a moment to glare at yon rah, he respects katara's decision and sees that's what she needed:

basically what im saying is that whether you ship them or see them as friends, their dynamic is immediately compelling, interesting and respectful.

[lecfosism]

SEBASTIAN VETTEL at NÜRBURGRING (x)

[thefinalaeon]

Hey. So.

It's officially getting colder here. And we don't have heat.

I'm. Scared, to put it mildly. This isn't something I've ever dealt with before. We've been trying all year to find assistance in fixing/replacing our furnace, but have hit a wall every single time. We either make too much money collectively (our combined income this year barely hit 30k lol), or places like Habitat for Humanity are so flooded with applications that they've put a hold on services in our area.

So far we are living on heated blankets and space heaters. But we can't have a lot of these going at the same time, because our house is so small that we'd blow a breaker. Fortunately we have a gas oven, but I'm sure you can all figure out why that wouldn't be a good idea to rely on long-term.

We all have medical conditions that make cold weather especially difficult to deal with, and we're already struggling to make our professional and personal commitments. It snows pretty regularly in the winter here. One of our space heaters is going to be allotted to the basement just to keep the pipes from freezing. I genuinely don't know what we're going to do. We are in pure survival mode at this point.

We are looking at starting a gofundme, but in the meantime, if anyone is able to help at all, by donating a dollar or two or just sharing and giving any advice you might have on how we can stay warm, I would genuinely, wholeheartedly appreciate it.

I know there are so many more terrible things happening in the world right now. I know we are all struggling to get by. It truly isn't my nature or preference to ask for help of this scale, but we're out of options. We're looking at at least $5000 for a new furnace.

Please help and share if you can. I love you guys no matter what 💜

Venmo: @wanderingchocobo

Cashapp: $wanderingchocobo

[lizzybeeee]

I didn't like every map in Inquisition, but the elven ruins were some of the best parts of it. Sometimes I think about how Suledin Keep was laid out where you're running through this kind of mazelike environment and then you can glance up at one point and there's this GIANT dread wolf statue watching you from the mountains. that was neat. Arlathan has giant statues too but imo they aren't framed in a very fantastic way where you can get startled like that. and where are the elven prayer puzzles. why can we not show our obeisance to the Evanuris with logic and whimsy :<

I loved Suledin Keep as well!

Especially since, by that point, you've fought your way through red templar camps and the giant behemoths to get to the *heart* of the operation at Suldein. There are red templars, rifts, the people/quarry operation, and then you get to the Keep and, like you said, there's that cool moment where you look up and the Dread Wolf is just LOOMING over you (like Solas in the story!).

Something that really appealed to me with this world was the tangible sense of the past, the consequences of decisions made ages ago, looming over you - the Blights, the Ancient Elves, the Dwarven Empire, Tevinter...the world never let you forget it.

And that's the whole game of DAI - wherever you go there's always traces of the people that came before you, unable to swept away by time or conquerors...and sometimes those people claw their way back to the present like Corypheous or Solas. In Ferelden you find traces of the Avaar and Chasind, In Orlais you find the remnants of the Elves, the Western Approach is dotted with Old Tevinter outposts and the Wardens, and the Hissing Wastes/Storm Coast with the dwarven ruins on the surface! I loved discovering every inch of those maps (large as they were lmao) and it added so much to the world. It made the world feel large! It added to the idea that this world had so much mystery to it - so much lost history.

And Arlathan?

It's a maze, not in a good way, but because parts are cut off only to be opened 'when allowed', and not like in Inquisition where there was a rock-slide or you needed a bridge etc... You're boxed in with glowing doors that tell you 'not now come back later' or water that instantly drowns you, and it's hard to not be taken out of the experience when the game is so very upfront with you that you are not supposed to explore until we say you can.

This game doesn't reward exploration, it has fast travel spots all over the place that seem to discourage it once you find an area. Camps in Inquisition were spread out over large maps but sparingly used in comparison - it still made certain that you explored the world to find new things on your journey from a to b. The quests train you to fast travel, to get to where you need to go - kill, talk, repeat. The game teaches you to look out for crap to break and so my eyes are rooted firmly on the ground because of it. The game can look gorgeous at times, but it doesn't feel like it wants me to look at it too hard, like it will break the illusion of this game lmao.

It's a personal opinion, of course, but my experience with this game was that it made the world smaller, less interesting, and devoid of that mystery and reverence that made this series so compelling. Like you said, there are some cool visuals like those giant statues in Arlathan, but everything else in the map is so condensed and twisting on each other that it's hard to notice them naturally while playing the game.

'Why can we not show our obeisance to the Evanuris with logic and whimsy'

That would be so cool! I can get Andruil's alter having a hunting test - like with the Vir Tanadhal (the way of three trees), which is a hunting philosophy the Dalish have relating to Andruil who is the Goddess of the Hunt. That makes sense - you show deference to her by hunting according to her way.

...but for all of them?

It's a game design choice, I get that -> make it simple, keep it the same...it goes with the repetitive combat and exploration loop of this game. But they really lost out on showing us how the Evanuris differ to each other - how each of them had their own little 'aspect' they had dominion over in accordance to their lore. Why not have a little puzzle for June, God of the Craft? A riddle for Dirthamen, God of Secrets? Have some sort of brazier lighting puzzle for Sylaise, the Hearthkeeper, who gave the elven people fire?

From what we learn in DAI with the veilfire and temple of Mythal we know that they were massively egotistical assholes for the most part, some way more than most. They had their own temples, their own valaslin, their own mythology/legends...giving them all the same prayer puzzle is pretty dull when you consider how different they all are and the efforts they went to to distinguish them. Not that you'd really know in this game - for a game about the 'Elven Gods' there's very little discussion about the rest of them.

But, yeah, to sum it all up: Elven ruins in Inquisition were gorgeous, encouraged you to explore and interact with the lore with veilfire runes, and gave you some gorgeous set pieces like with the giant Dread Wolf statue in Suledin. Inquisition may not have been everyones cup of tea, totally get that, but for me it really captured the wonder of Thedas - the depth of its history...datv unfortunately did not.

[st4rstudent]

[loud] Out of context thing from twt parody accounts

here's a bonus drawing from the same acc

[ardienothesieno]

THEY'RE HEEEEEEEERE

after a biiiit of chaos with the shipping IT'S HERE!! MY RANCHERS!!!!

i need them to kiss NEOWWW

[neztune]

So… jumped on the light fury redesign train finally-

I definitely was thinking about her concept art a lot, and wanted to throw in axolotls too… they’re just cute, and she kinda reminded me of them when I heard she was supposed to have an aquatic design

So I took aquatic and ran with it… I think if I redo it, I’m putting more fins on the tail… but this is what we’ve got so far! 😋

[mapicccc]

have YOU ever wanted to get into devotions but didn't know where to start? I made a little guide for Their Arc, the castle arc from s4 (including important constext!!) it does include a lot of vod watching as castle arc in my opinion was never properly documented, videos don't do it justice, but especially if you're new to s6 and like their dynamic, castle arc is a great way to see more, enjoy watching ^-^

[bigcats-birds-and-books]

Books of 2025: THE LUMINOUS DEAD by Caitlin Starling.

Well! I did not mean to binge read this in less than 24 hours, but Here We Are. Once I started, I had a hell of a time stopping, because I just HAD TO KNOW.

From the very first page, we know something is not right about this solitary caving expedition on a shitty alien mining planet, and we know that 22-year-old Gyre is in it for an enormous amount of money. We know significantly less about her enigmatic and controlling handler, Em, who's Gyre's literal only lifeline out of the cave system.

Or about what's down there with her.

The tension and ratcheting dread are propulsive--lot of mysteries here, lots to pick apart and unravel (including Gyre's and Em's psyches, apparently). Hugely tense and claustrophobic (I kept taking micro phone breaks to calm myself down), enormously isolating and twisty. This is We Support Women's Wrongs: Sci-Fi Horror Edition, and I'm in a complicated situationship with a hypermanipulative voice in my helmet about it--love it, hate it, love/hate it at the same time, what a deeply fucked up ride.

[penumbra-mayhem]

And All That Follows (ch. 3)

aka: Silence Slips From My Tongue, It’s the Only Thing I Can’t Hold In

Emergency pack meeting and Gabe’s funeral

Ch. 2 // ao3 // 3.9k words

(TW: grief, funeral, vomiting, mentions of car accident and drunk driving)

——————————————

Sept 4. 2017, 10:01 am

The pack den had been nothing special when Gabe first began renting it. Just a vacant floor of a small, rundown office building. There were only two offices in use—one for himself and eventually one for David—to manage Shaw Pack and Shaw Security business.

The rest of the space had been cleared of all desks and cubicle walls and ergonomic chairs; they’d been replaced by a clunky circle of assorted couches, ottomans, plush recliners, and beanbags. The gray, compacted carpet was smothered in various rugs, and a scattering of vintage lamps replaced the harsh overhead fluorescents. Gabe had also expanded and refurbished the tiny kitchen, recognizing how important communal eating was for pack bonding and cohesion.

Since he was a kid, the den had been David’s favorite place in the world, where he felt most loved and safe. For years, it was filled every other week with the warm rumble of his father’s voice. David always sat at full attention, taking in every word, every gesture. He’d then go home and emulate Gabe in the bathroom mirror, imagining the day he’d command that room with the same grace and power and love.

He had never hoped nor dreamed that that day would come so soon. But now it had, and David felt woefully unprepared.

The pack had just had a meeting the evening before. Nothing had changed, everything was just as it had been left and yet already the den felt different…colder. David picked his way through the space, switching on each light in the hope that the glow would bring some semblance of comfort. It didn’t.

Looming near the final beaded lamp was Gabe’s seat—an understated pinewood chair with suede maroon cushions and brass rivets. David avoided going near it for as long as he could, but eventually he ran out of lamps.

The closer he got, the further away the chair seemed. David grew frustrated as his heart began to race. It was just a chair. Sweat pooled in the crevices of his palms. It was just a fucking chair. His chest became unbearably tight. Just turn on the damn lamp. And the wasps. The wasps were thrashing in his stomach.

David barely made it to a toilet before he was heaving. Between the night before and the lack of any meal since then, it was a wonder he had anything left to throw up. His body shuddered as it tried to expel every frantic bug from his stomach.

Eventually they were gone, but then everything ached. His vision was swimming. His whole body was shaking. How the hell could he lead this meeting when he could barely even stand?

Somehow, David got himself into the kitchen. He filled a glass full of water and downed it, then filled and drank another. He knew he needed to eat. He knew it, but even the thought of food brought him close to throwing up again.

The den pantry was always stocked, Gabe had made sure of that. David grabbed the easiest food to digest—a pack of saltine crackers—and gave himself the goal of eating five. He managed three.

He was interrupted from his session of glowering at his fourth cracker by the sound of the den door opening. Staggering to his feet, he left the kitchen and watched as a tower of pink confectionery boxes shuffled into the room.

“Ash?” he croaked. Fuck, his voice sounded wrecked.

“Hey, David,” Asher called from behind the boxes. David rushed over and grabbed a few, revealing his friend’s face—smiling despite his evident exhaustion.

“What’s all this for?” David asked as he followed Asher into the kitchen.

“We always have food at meetings,” he explained, “I figured nobody would really feel like cooking, so I went to Roedersheimer’s before I got here.”

David gawked at the heaps of baked goods now spread out on every surface in the kitchen. He felt sick and couldn’t quite tell if it was from the guilt of Asher doing his job for him or the overwhelming sugary scent flooding the space.

“Thank you, Ash,” he choked out, “I’ll pay you b—”

“I’ve got you, David. You and the pack,” Asher insisted, a gentle hand on David’s shoulder.

David nodded. Speechless, he left the kitchen and wound his way to his office. It was a little thing, sparsely decorated and organized for maximum efficiency. Collapsing in his rolling chair with a groan, David checked his watch:

10:14 am

The usual early arrivers would be there soon.

He’d led a few pack meetings before, when Gabe had been ill or caught up in something he couldn’t get out of. But those had been different. Those hadn’t mattered. Not like this at least. What David said, what he did, would directly affect the future of the pack. He needed to appear strong. They needed an Alpha. They needed Gabe. David was neither. He had no idea how to be an Alpha, and he certainly didn’t know how to be his father. He’d only been Beta for two years. And that was a completely different role, with different expectations and responsibilities. How the hell could he—

His spiral was interrupted by a small knock. Looking up, he saw Asher leaning in the doorway of his office, holding a donut and a scone: maple-almond, David’s favorite.

Whenever Gabe and David had a particularly early gig or meeting, the former would always stop by Roedersheimer’s beforehand and buy a chocolate croissant and a maple-almond scone. David would always protest the treat at first, declaring it was too early for something so sweet. But in the end, he could never resist.

“I can’t,” David admitted weakly as Asher walked in and placed the scone on his desk, “I-I don’t have the stomach for it.”

“You’ve gotta eat,” Asher countered softly. He sat in the chair opposite David and took a small bite of the oreo-pistachio-cinnamon monstrosity he called a donut.

David’s stomach twisted. His eyes darted between the scone and Asher and the wastebasket in the corner. He clenched his jaw; Asher was right. David reached out a hand, grimacing at how hard it shook, and grabbed the scone.

It tasted like the sun rising.

The wasps were confused, stirring up at the food, calming in Asher’s presence. But despite the unsettled feeling in his gut, David kept eating. He had a job to do, and this was part of it.

Asher eyed him over his donut, a small smile on his face.

——————————————

Sept 4. 2017, 10:58 am

People were still filing in. David stood near the door and addressed them as they entered, just as Gabe used to do. He was surprised by how many people had been able to come on such short notice; nearly the whole pack was present. Even Tank, who slipped in quietly and hid in their usual corner, hoodie drawn over their face.

They’d hoped no one had noticed them, but David had. He saw them and the large bandage covering their cheekbone. He breathed deeply against the worried sting that sight brought.

At 11 am, David moved to his usual low-backed chair beside Gabe’s seat and sat down. Everyone looked at him. In that moment, he was certain his tan skin had suddenly turned clear and everyone could see what a wreck he was inside.

When David spoke, he put as much strength as he could behind his words, “I understand that an emergency meeting can be quite disruptive to your lives, especially on a Monday, so I’m appreciative of everyone being here today. As I believe you all know by this point, last night my father was killed in a car accident. He was struck by a drunk driver. Although I have not received a full autopsy report yet, I have been informed that after an initial assessment it appears he died instantly. I say this to hopefully provide some relief and assurance that he did not suffer; he may not have even known the car was coming.”

The new information on how Gabe had died coursed through the pack. Some looked relieved, others enraged. Murmurs rose around the circle, allowing David to take a deep breath before continuing, “I spoke with a funeral home this morning. I’ve arranged for the service to be held this Thursday. You will all be sent the information for that day as soon as I’ve finalized the arrangements, which should be later today or tomorrow. I promise you all, this does not mean the end of our pack. Although his death was unanticipated by us, it was not by Gabe. He had planned extensively for any situation in which he could no longer serve as our Alpha.”

“Are you gonna be Alpha now?”

All heads turned to eight-year-old Jamal as his mother shushed him. She apologized, “I’m sorry David, he doesn’t understand.”

David could have thrown up on the spot. His insides burned, his mind recoiling at the thought of anyone replacing his father. It didn’t matter if the kid didn’t know any better. It didn’t matter that he didn’t understand. Nobody understoo—

“It’s alright, Leila,” David assured her, his tone calm despite the swarm in his brain. He dropped his gaze, breathing slowly. They had to choose a replacement. They had to. Too much time without a leader, and the pack could come undone.

“We will vote after the service, during our next scheduled pack meeting,” he declared.

“That’s in two weeks,” Christian immediately protested, “We can’t wait that long. We should just do it now.”

A faint snarl reverberated from the back of the room. All eyes locked onto Tank.

“Do it now?” they hissed, voice acrid with repugnance, “Gabe’s body isn’t even in the fucking ground yet.”

“Tank,” David interjected. It was less a condemnation and more a tranquilizer, his tone clear and commanding. Tank huffed but settled back down, lowering their head once more. Everyone’s attention returned to David.

“You all know that choosing a new Alpha is a serious undertaking. I do not want anyone to feel pressured or rushed in this decision. I am still pack Beta until another is chosen. I will handle all legal, technical, and leadership matters until our next meeting. Then, we will vote,” David decreed. When no one objected, he continued:

“In the meantime, if anyone has any need for counseling, I am in contact with a local therapist. I will send you all their information and can assist with setting up meetings. I’ll now open the floor if anyone else would like to say anything or has any questions.”

Silence.

David should have expected so. He was in a room full of people in states of shock and disbelief, neither of which typically inspire much conversation. He was at a loss, though. He’d done what he was supposed to, what he’d planned, but now what?

David glanced at Asher, who gestured with his eyes to the kitchen.

“Alright,” David concluded, “As usual, there’s food in the kitchen, gluten-free and dairy-free on the round table. Please eat, stay as long as you need. If any of you would like to speak with me individually, I’ll be here for the next half-hour. Meeting adjourned.”

——————————————

Sept 4. 2017, 11:45 am

Seeing that nearly everyone had trickled out, David got ready to leave. The day ahead was completely full, and he’d already had to stay at the den longer than he’d anticipated. As David stuffed his belongings into his shoulder bag, a voice reached out from behind him:

“David.”

“Not now, Tank,” he muttered over his shoulder.

They bristled, “You said if we wanted to talk to you, we fucking could.”

Dammit.

Tank tested David more than anyone else did. But they were right, he had said that. And as much as he was their friend, he was also their Beta. He was responsible for them, just as he was for everyone else. Sometimes even more so, much to his frustration.

He took a breath to placate himself before turning around and asking, “What is it?”

They faltered, David’s composure an unexpected response. Their verdant eyes locked onto their boots as they mumbled, “I’m sorry if I got blood on anything at your place last night.”

Of course. It wasn’t anything important, just another waste of David’s time. Why couldn’t they understand that he was monumentally busy?

“I don’t care about blood, Tank,” he grumbled, grabbing his bag and charging towards the door.

“Is there anything I can do? To help?” Tank blurted out, “Please, David, I-I wanna help.”

David’s breath caught in his throat. What was it? The way they were standing? The way they looked at him? The way they said his name? It was so subtle, he couldn’t tell, but something about Tank in that moment reminded him of Gabe. And that brief resurrection of his father stung in a way he didn’t know how to respond to. So he did the only thing he could and walked out without a word.

He heard Asher call out after him as he left. David knew he should turn around and apologize. He knew he was being unfair.

But he also knew that if he tried to speak, there was no telling what would come out of his mouth. Maybe he’d apologize. Maybe he’d cry or scream or throw up. Or maybe he’d hurt Tank, kick them while they were already down. That final possibility scared him more than anything else. It was something he couldn’t risk.

Tank was left frozen, unshed tears turning everything into a haze. “See, I told you,” they whispered, “He doesn’t need my mess.”

Milo opened his mouth to speak, but Asher beat him to the punch:

“No, hey, that’s not it. David just…he doesn’t know what he needs. He doesn’t know how we can help. And he doesn’t know how to say that. So, we just need to figure out what we can do and just do it. Okay?”

“...okay,” they mumbled, unconvinced.

“How’s your cheek holding up?” Asher asked, “That fall must’ve been nasty to need stitches.”

Tank’s eyes flit to Milo. Before he could explain, they replied, “It’s fine. I’m fine.”

“Good. I told David I’d pack up the food, so if you want something, come grab it quick,” Asher said before heading to the kitchen.

When he was out of earshot, Tank whispered to Milo, “Thank you.”

“Of course,” he whispered back, “Your secret’s safe with me.”

——————————————

Sept 7. 2017, 7:33 pm

Gabe was buried near the ocean, at a large cemetery with towering redwoods, lush ferns, and beds of pine needles and clover. The site reminded David of camping trips.

Following shifter funeral traditions, David had prepared a large feast for the end of the service, the smell of which wafted through the trees with the remaining hints of sunlight.

It is custom for shifter funerals to take place at sunset. The transition from day into night is chosen as an acknowledgment of both the individual’s passing from life to death and also their nature as a shifter—a being whose core is continually in flux and whose body flows between two forms.

Having a funeral on the edge of daylight also allows for vampires to be in attendance, which was important at Gabe’s funeral; there were quite a few he’d befriended over the years. The size of the crowd and the magnitude of Gabe’s impact was staggering. It felt like all of Dahlia was gathered around the open grave. Even the officiant, a sonal energetic named Sunyi, had known him.

She greeted each party as they joined the group. David stood at her side, enduring the inundation of tearful condolences with a stoic face and numb gratitude.

Frank and Deborah Talbot were some of the last arrivals, having just flown in earlier that afternoon. They were accompanied by their daughter Madelyn and her husband. Each embraced David, commending him for the service, the location, the music, the food.

David was clinging to his composure like a lifebuoy. His body was stiff, his words brief and stilted. He felt so ashamed of his behavior, acting so standoffish to the people who were the closest thing he had left to family.

He watched as Frank walked over to his son and crumbled into his arms, tear tracks glistening on his dark brown skin. Asher held him tightly, sending his mother a tender smile over Frank’s shoulder. She smiled back until it broke and she hid her paling face as it flooded with tears. Madelyn rushed from her husband’s side and embraced her mother.

Milo broke away from the crowd, his mother on his arm, and greeted them. Colm stood at a slight distance, reserved and quiet.

“Maribel,” Frank croaked, reaching for Marie. She embraced him, equally grief-stricken.

As the rest of the mourners found their place around the grave, Tank nestled themself into the back of the group, determined to not draw attention to themself. This wasn’t about them or their feelings or their stupid bandaged face. It was about Gabe.

Once everyone had gathered, Sunyi spoke, amplifying her mellow voice so everyone could hear:

“Alpha Gabriel Elias Shaw was better known as Gabe by everyone in his life. Although he was highly accomplished and deserving of every title awarded to him, he rarely used them. He once told me that he’d rather gain respect through his actions than through his name. And he did just that. Gabe was a man who led by example. He worked tirelessly to build his pack and his greater community. Fiercely protective, deeply empathetic, innately curious, Gabe was a man who sought to understand and support everyone he encountered. He was never quick to judge, though his morals were resolute and guided him always towards justice and peace. Believing in the power of words, Gabe rarely had to show how formidable his wolf could be. He was a man with a deep well of patience, kindness, and wisdom.

Gabe took on many forms beyond just human and wolf. He was one of the founders and Alpha of the Shaw Pack, which under his leadership has grown to be one of the most prominent wolf packs in the region. He was a man of service, devoting his free time to volunteering at the Dahlia branch of the Haven for Empowered Domestic Abuse Survivors. He was a passionate guitarist, as well as a talented and renowned, albeit sometimes experimental, chef.”

Faint laughter traveled through the group as people recalled the many unusual (and occasionally downright inedible) meals that Gabe had concocted when he’d been feeling culinarily adventurous.

Sunyi continued, “Gabe was a loving husband to his late mate, Amelia, and a dedicated father to his son, David. He was a dear friend and ally, which is evident by the sheer number of people in attendance here this evening. Gabe’s family and I extend our gratitude to you all. Thank you for gathering and honoring Gabe with your presence, your words, your silence, your mourning, and your celebration. I now invite anyone forward who would like to share any memories or thoughts about Gabe. With your permission, I will amplify your voice so everyone may hear.”

David could feel every gaze shift to him. He should speak. He was expected to speak. He was the Beta. He was the son. His hand clamped around his speech in his pocket, crumpling the paper.

He couldn’t do it. The buzzing in his head was so loud it paralyzed him. Everything he’d prepared to say felt meaningless. How could he possibly put to words what his father had meant to him? His father who was like the Sun, holding everyone together, lighting the way, providing warmth and life to everyone in his presence. David’s feeble attempt to speak would just disgrace Gabe and his memory.

Suddenly, he heard someone else speaking. David realized Asher had begun to share a familiar, endearing tale involving Gabe falling out of a pickup truck. Everyone knew the story; it was one Gabe told all the time. Despite this, the crowd erupted in bittersweet giggles, like it was the first time they’d heard it.

David wanted to crawl into the grave with Gabe and smother himself in soil.

And, in a sense, he did.

The rest of the funeral was a blur to David as he lost himself to the buzzing, to concentrating on not crying and not throwing up.

David didn’t hear Frank Talbot’s words—watery and hushed, despite Sunyi’s amplification:

“Gabe founded the Shaw Pack because he believed in the strength of community and the necessity for shifters to have a pack. He always said that a pack is more than just a bunch of wolves. It’s a family. It’s where you turn to for everything, the good, the bad, the ugly. The Shaw Pack extends beyond just Dahlia; it has members across the country. Gabe weaved people together with bonds so strong that neither distance n-…sorry…that neither distance nor death can break them. That was the beautiful thing about him. He brought people together. He made us feel less alone, and in that he dispelled our fear, eased our pain, and emboldened us to be our truest selves. I will…sorry…I w-will miss him d-dearly…”

David didn’t hear when Marie spoke, her prepared eulogy trembling in her hands:

“The author bell hooks once wrote: ‘Our mourning, our letting ourselves grieve over the loss of loved ones is an expression of our commitment, a form of communication and communion.’

She reminds us that grief ties us to those we have lost. Death causes the transformation of a relationship, not the loss of one. Gabe’s death does not take away that connection each of us has with him. Gabe remains a leader, a friend, a father, a husband, a kind and caring man. We will continue to look to him for guidance and strength. His memory will echo in our minds, as his presence and his actions will continue to ripple through the world for years to come.

bell hooks also reminds us that grief is to be experienced openly and in community. When we grieve together, we ease the burden. We strengthen our relationships in communal commiseration. We find Gabe in each other, through our stories of him, through our longing and our remembrance. To hide our grief is to hide our love for Gabe, to hide how deeply he affected our lives. When we share our grief, we affirm the positive impact he made; we keep Gabe’s spirit alive, and we keep each other’s spirits alive. To grieve is to live. So I will grieve in Gabe’s honor. I will live for him, as I do for all those we’ve lost.”

David didn’t hear the praises and memories from the countless people who loved his father. He didn’t hear the whispers of concern and support as people passed by him. He didn’t hear when the band began playing Gabe’s favorite song:

One morning I woke up and I knew // you were really gone // A new day, a new way, and new eyes // to see the dawn // Go your way, I’ll go mine and // carry on // The sky is clearing and the night // has cried enough // The sun, he come, the world // to soften up // Rejoice, rejoice, we have no choice but // to carry on…

It wasn’t until the end of the service that David resurfaced, when a wail erupted from someone nestled in the back of the group.

The Howl had begun.

The crowd rippled as people shifted into their wolves and started howling. David shifted as well, but when he opened his maw, no sound came out. His voice was locked in his throat, held back by shame and wasps and crumpled paper and disgrace and soil and the ever increasing belief that no matter how hard he tried, he would fail everyone.

[mossy-paws]

Biocar

Oh shoot yeah I also forgot to post this too

og image:

[zorlok-if]

The vibes of my current test Zorloks:

Butch Badass Zorlok (she/xe): Is an older, butch lesbian with gray starting to streak through her dark mullet. Xe wears a cowboy hat, boots with spurs, and a bandana tied like a kerchief. She will kick your ass. Xyr Hellhound is a massive wolfhound named Cerberus. Goes by the name Crowley and walks dogs/watches houses to make ends meet. Calls pretty ladies "darling" and everyone else "son".

Bisexual Menace Zorlok (he/him): Young trans man who plays up being sarcastic and tough to cover up the fact that he's terrified and lonely. Introduces himself to people as Rafael Night, a guitarist who exudes confidence and sexuality and will seduce everyone he can just for the hell of it. His Hellhound is a leucistic snake name Ouro.

Ethereal Enby Zorlok (they/them): A chill being that seems detached from reality. Fascinated by everything, particularly mundane things. Loves learning about the modern world but does not blend in. Dislikes using power or violence but can and will wipe you from this plane of existence if necessary. Goes by Z and nannies a kid named Kevin during the day. Their Hellhound is Huginn, a crow.

Kind Professor Zorlok (he/him): A really nice older man who passes as human very well (cause that's all he wants to be). His Hellhound is a cat named Grimalkin who is always at his feet or perched on his broad shoulders. Hates using violence and demonic power but loves doing magical and supernatural research. Becomes a beloved local tutor under the name of Dr. Jonathan Gray. Rose calls him Jon.

Chaos Incarnate Zorlok (she/her): Some of her favorite things are violence, power, and corruption. Sadistic and petty. Plays up an impulsive and juvenile persona to cover up how calculating and patient she can really be. Her Hellhound is a goat named Baphomet. Calls herself Zorlok and the only human she truly cares about is Tommy who she will turn into the most wicked, cruel version of himself.

All picrews used:

Everyone

Crowley

Rafael

Z

Jonathan

Zorlok