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deadsetobsessions · 3 months

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Tim had forgotten, in his one man (and the admittedly liberal usage of hired guns) crusade at everything that had hurt his family, that he was technically a child. A time traveling 21 year old Tim Drake in his younger body, sure, but he’s still a nine year old child.

Tim was violently, unpleasantly reminded of this as he opened his front door to… Gotham Primary’s truancy officer.

Oh shit. He still had to go to school. Tim scrambled for an excuse.

“Hello, Timothy. Are your parents home?”

“Uh- no, sir. Only my nanny. I’ve been really,” think, Timothy, think! Are you Red Robin for nothing? “really sick. She went out for some medicine.”

Tim knew what the officer saw as he looked down at him, a pale, drawn little boy who looked like a sickly Victorian child. He has no idea that Tim had the beginnings of lean muscles and strong grip strength underneath his baggy clothes.

“I see. I’ll have to talk to your nanny, then. We need to be informed of when you’re ill, Timothy.”

“Oh. She-” shit, shit, shit! “Doesn’t speak English.” Was that racist? That felt racist. Gods, he probably sounds like a snobby classist elite. “I’ll let my mom know to email you, sir?”

The truancy officer sighed. By Tim’s lucky stars, he agreed. The man pulled out a singular paper from his plastic folder, clearly used to this kind of thing, especially from the elites of Gotham, and said, “Email the school. And have her sign this note, please.”

Tim nodded seriously. Like hell he would.

When the officer was gone, Tim closed the gate immediately. He had forgotten to close it after getting back home from stalking the Bats last night. Well, Bat, singular, because Jason was still benched.

Tim sighed, grabbing a pen to fluidly forge Janet Drake’s signature on his paper about truancy and proper procedures and what not. Then, he moved to the computer, easily stealing his mother’s credentials, emailing the school about his sick leave, and their decision to have him home schooled.

He’d miss Ives, but honestly, Tim needed the free time. Plus, maybe this way, he’ll graduate high school this time around. He drafted another email to the counselor, asking them what kind of curriculum and tests he needed to pass to obtain future degrees and what not.

He gets an email back, with all of the testing required and the steps “Young Timothy” should take in order to succeed in the rest of his academic career. Tim would like to point out he’s nine, and that this was pretentious. Helpful, sure, but pretentious all the same.

“That’s what people don’t mention about time traveling. It’s all fun and games until you get hit with the mundane and tedious things.” Tim muttered, setting up his appointments for testing. He’ll have to find someone to drive him to the tests…

His mind turned to his neighbors… hm. That’s a possibility.

Tim wiped all traces of his activities from his mother’s email, doing a quick and hidden bit of rerouting to get any educational emails regarding him sent to his own inbox.

Tim swigged a mouthful of coffee and continued on his merry way.

His new goal?

Find Cassandra Cain.

#Tim drake #Timothy drake #Batman #red Robin #time traveling tim drake #time travel fix it #scheming tim drake #Tim drake vs truancy officer #listen I went to a private school #they legit called me ‘young’ in an email to my mother #Tim drake vs the education system #Tim Drake and his mortal enemy: school #tim: I will never finish high school

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tampire · 4 months

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Canada's Drag Race S04E07:

From Drags to Riches: The Rusical

#Canada's Drag Race #cdredit #rpdredit #Season 4 #RuPaul's Drag Race #Drag Race #Brooke Lynn Hytes #M3linda V3rga #Aurora Matrix #Kiki Coe #Call Me Mother #Toronto #My Gif #LGBT #lgbtedit #I love them so much #Mood

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sunlightdrop · 3 months

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at last, rapunzel was home, and she finally had a real family. she was a princess worth waiting for.

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kettleghost · 11 months

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cool new drawing

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typewriter-worries · 3 months

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Colman Domingo in conversation with Jacob Elordi for Variety's Actors on Actors

#“what am i going to do with all this love?” god that's heart wrenching #i just know a conversation about mothers between him and andrew garfield would ruin me #call it what it is; love #colman domingo #jacob elordi #actors on actors #my upload

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autisticlancemcclain · 8 months

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One Saturday morning, as Keith and Lance descend the stairs on their way to the kitchen — as Keith practically carries a still half-asleep Lance, that is — Marcela whips towards them, points a scolding finger in their direction, and says, “I am tired of checking in on you two at night and seeing my son, sprawling over half the bed, while poor Keith clings to the edge. No more.”

Keith’s heart drops to his toes, pounding all the way down. His ears billow out and then fade slowly, like someone turned the volume down. He feels like a beyblade someone just spun and dropped onto the pavement, dizzy and sharp and sparking, trembling to a stop. For several horrifying moments he’s convinced that this may very well be it, and he’s shocked by his own surprise. He’s usually so prepared for the eventual end of someone’s affection, for the patience to run out, for the boot to kick him on the way out the door. It’s startling to realise how far he’s let his defences drop with the Esposita-McClains.

Dangerous.

But then Keith processes the entirety of her sentence, hears past “I’m tired of” and “Keith” in the same sentence. He sees her narrowed eyes and chiding finger and playful exasperation pointed at Lance’s guilty grin, not at Keith, and he realises she is exasperated by the fact that Lance takes up the whole bed every night Keith sleeps over, not that Keith sleeps over at all.

He unclenches his fist from the hem of Lance’s shirt. He’s not sure if Lance does it on purpose, but he leans farther into Keith, and the pressure helps ground him, helps him breathe again.

“I really don’t mind,” Keith mumbles. He keeps his eyes averted, unwilling to meet her knowing ones. “Lance isn’t that bad.”

Marcela snorts, ruffling his hair as she walks by to set the milk on the table. “Please, Keith. He’s a nightmare to sleep with and he knows it. He had to have those little toddler rails on the sides of his bed until he was seven years old because he kept falling off.”

Lance makes a noise of protest at the embarrassing anecdote. Keith smiles, patting his back slightly.

“He does drool.”

“And kick,” says Lance’s older sister Veronica, ducking into the kitchen to grab an apple. Rachel, his other sister, is right behind her, and she pipes up too.

“He also grinds his teeth!”

“And mutters freaky things. He said he was going to curse me once.”

“Oh, yeah, and there was the deal with the sleeping sitting up!”

“And there was —”

“Alright, girls,” Marcela interrupts, leaning over to hold down the hand Lance has clenched around a fork before he has a chance to launch breakfast at his sisters. She looks to have intervened in the nick of time, which makes Keith smile into his cereal. “Let’s not make your brother homicidal.”

Both girls leave the kitchen snickering. Lance’s face promises revenge. For their sake, Keith hopes they find a way to lock their room door, but somehow he doubts it. A part of him is intrigued about whatever scheme Lance will inevitably rope him into.

“I really am fine, though,” Keith repeats once calm has returned to the morning again. “I once had to sleep in a home that usually had more kids than beds, so Lance’s kicking is a significant improvement from a sleeping bag on the kitchen floor.”

He hadn’t meant for his comment to be upsetting. It wasn’t great, sure, but he’d had a roof over his head and food to eat, and he’d only been there for a couple days. The whole situation was funny in hindsight, hilarity inherent in the absurdity of his neon green sleeping bag next to the magnet-covered fridge, and that’s how he’d meant the comment. A joke.

But Marcela looks horrified, and Lance leans over to rest his head on Keith’s shoulder and wrap their hands together, and Keith realises he’s most definitely made a mistake.

“Kidding,” he tries anyway, but the damage is done. The determination in Marcela’s eyes becomes even more apparent, and she nods twice as if reassuring herself. Keith could kick himself.

“Be ready in twenty minutes,” she says resolutely. “We’re going out.”

———

In twenty minutes they’re in the car. Lance almost has his voice back by then, too, which is great, because Keith feels like he’s going to lose his — he’s expecting a fancy air mattress, really. At most he’s expecting to be delegated to his own space in the pull out couch or something. And even that is more than he ever thought he’d get. It’s not that he doesn’t think he deserves it, or anything like that. He knows that some of his living situations have been less than ideal, in the past few years.

But he…he’s not part of this family. He’s not supposed to be, anyway. He’s someone Lance dragged home someday, someone Lance latched onto and then everyone else seemed to follow his example. Keith knows his current foster family gets a cheque for an amount he’s too afraid to find out every month. He knows the state government pays people to home and house and feed him because no one else will. That’s how it’s been since that’s what it had to be.

He cannot understand what logic has inspired Marcela and Lance and all the Esposita-McClains, really, to home and house and feed him. He doesn’t understand.

He’s not expecting a forty minute drive to Ikea. He doesn’t understand why so much is being extended for him. He’s not expecting the determination in Marcela’s face and the way she holds Keith in one hand and Lance in the other, tightly, as if both are her children, until Lance whines and pulls himself free to come hold Keith’s other hand, as if he’s the commodity.

Keith doesn’t understand.

This is not how things are supposed to go.

This is never how things end up going. Not ever in a million years or even less.

“We should get a bunk bed!” Lance says excitedly, pulling Keith out of his thoughts and in a random direction. Marcela squeezes Keith’s hand once and lets go to allow it, stepping to the side to grab on of the boxy blue shopping carts.

Lance brightens even further when she brings over the cart, hopping onto the end of it and gesturing for Keith to do the same. Keith looks at the cart, then at Lance, then at the wheels, then at the total lack of space beside him, and imagines Marcela hitting the tiniest bump as they cram onto the little ledge and then them going flying.

He wisely chooses to walk over and grab the handlebar next to Marcela. She extends her pinky to rest next to Keith, which makes several emotions that he refuses to identify rise up in his throat.

“Let’s maybe consider our other options,” Marcela suggests as she pushes the cart farther. “You remember when we stayed over at your primo’s house when we first moved? You hit the ceiling every single morning because you could never remember that it was there. I don’t think bunk beds are for you, mijo.”

“And the toddler rail thing,” Keith adds. He’d meant it seriously — Lance has genuinely fallen a few times and Keith has had to drag him back up — but Lance huff-laughs in the way that he does when Keith teases him and he’s annoyed that he finds it funny, and Marcela straight up laughs. Keith meets Lance’s eyes and smiles to soften the unintentional dig.

“Fine,” Lance laments, dramatically leaning backwards on the rail. “We’ll just get boring normal beds I guess. Ooooou, we should get some bookshelves! Then Keith has somewhere to put all his nerd things.”

Marcela turns the shopping cart so quickly it screeches and nearly flings Lance right off, speeding towards the shelving area. Keith hurries to keep up.

“Excellent idea, Lancito. Bribing him to stay for longer. You’re so smart.”

Lance preens. Keith looks rapidly between them both, trying to find the joke, but there isn’t one. They, genuinely and truly, want to redesign Lance’s entire room to entice Keith to stay. However much it will cost, and Keith knows it will be a lot, they are doing more than what is reasonable to ensure they (not just Lance! All of them! The household!) can spend more time with Keith.

It’s baffling.

Try as he might, Keith simply cannot find a motive. He watches, gobsmacked, as Lance and Marcela hem and haw their way through the biggest furniture outlet chain in the world, comparing sturdy wooden shelving and colourful bean bag chairs and dorky spaceship themed beds, redesigning a whole room from scratch.

He startles out of his thoughts at Marcela’s beckoning, walking over to the display table she and Lance are illegally sitting at (there is a giant FOR VISUAL DISPLAY ONLY sign on it that they have ignored), half hunched over her cell and a pad of paper. “Keith, rojo, come here. We need you to sketch out the basics of Lance’s room so we know what fits. Marco is measuring the walls and everything right now. Don’t worry about anything that’s already in there, I think we’re taking it all out to paint it anyway. You like blue, right?”

Keith swallows roughly. He does like blue. He’s never painted his own room before.

“Yeah,” he manages, finally squishing down next to Lance on his chair.

Following Marco’s directions, he sketches out the foundations of the bedroom, marking the big window and weirdly narrow door and closet that Lance never uses because he has it piled full of stuff he doesn’t use but can’t bring himself to give away. The sketch is then used as a sort of map as they wander around the outlet, holding it up to various pieces of furniture and assessing how they would fit. It takes Keith some time, but after several hours of Lance’s energy and Marcela’s excitement, Keith starts to get hyped.

“Gasp!“ Lance says out loud, because he is a dork. He reaches a flapping hand over to Keith’s without looking, slapping him on the shoulder several times before finally managing to grip onto his sleeve. “Keith! Keith! Look!”

Keith squints in the direction Lance is emoting at. “A couch,” he says slowly, trying to figure out what warrants the intense excitement.

Honestly, it might be the couch. Lance got super excited about bar stools, earlier, so anything really goes.

“No no, farther!”

Keith squints harder. “The countertops?”

“Farther!”

“The…vases?”

“No! Farther!” Finally Lance gets frustrated enough to step behind Keith, gently pressing his palms to Keith’s cheeks and guiding his head in the right direction. “Now squint really hard and get excited with me.”

Keith tries. He sees grey blobs and says nothing, allowing the silence to speak for him.

“The stuffies, Keith! They’re sharks and hippos! Mama, Keith needs glasses.”

“I know,” she says at the same time that Keith says “No, I don’t.”

They stare at each other for several moments.

“As soon as you’re on the insurance,” she says levelly.

“I will feed them to a creek,” Keith promises.

He has never been this stubborn to Marcela before. He didn’t even mean to. If he had known he was going to say it he would have kept his mouth shut, but the words kind of bubbled out of him. He waits for her eyes to harden, her shoulders to square, for the annoyance to become evident at his insolence.

But she only snorts, leaning over to flick him on the forehead. “I got Marco to wear them. I got Lisa to wear them. I got my mule of a husband to wear them. If you need them, you will not out-stubborn me, toro.”

Keith shrugs. If she’s that hellbent on getting to know him, she’ll learn, he supposes.

By the time the time they break their intense eye contact, they realize that Lance has already wandered off towards the stuffed animals, and hasten to follow him (he gets lost easy). Lance is already halfway into this big bucket, digging for something specific.

“This is for you,” he says when he finally unearths himself, handing a hippo to Keith. “Smaller than the others, like you, and the fluff is a little matted but it’s softer than the others. The shark is for me because it was stuck on the hippo like I’m stuck on you.” He playfully checks Keith’s hip, giggling at his own joke, but Keith’s eyes are totally glued onto the wonky little hippo plushie in his hands. He holds it loosely, afraid of crushing it, and stares intensely at the matted fluff on the one side, the tangled mess of the little poof at the tail. He tries three times to swallow and fails each time, lump in his throat taking up too much space.

“We’re too old for stuffies,” he finally manages. He gives himself away by how tightly he holds the soft things in his hands.

Lance snorts. “Yeah, well, you’re a massive dweeb, so I think we’re fine.”

“I think they’ll be wonderful additions to your room,” Marcela says with finality, and that is that.

———

By the time they make it out of the maze that is Ikea, pack up the car, and set out on the ride home, it’s well after eight thirty. And Keith isn’t a baby, and neither is Lance, and they have a later bed time than that, but…

They’ve been walking around all day. There has been a lot of expended energy.

They’re tired.

Keith remembers being finagled into playing double-o seven with Lance in the back seat. He remembers losing. He remembers poking Lance in the cheek as he yawned just to hear him squawk.

He remembers nothing but the feeling of Lance’s warmth pressed against his, after that, and the seatbelt digging into his neck, and the numbness of his legs. Then he remembers nothing until he felt the familiar bump of the Esposita-McClain driveway, until he cracked open his eyes to see that they were home and closed them quickly again, hoping he wouldn’t be made to get up, still mostly asleep.

“Should we bother setting up the new beds?” comes a whispered voice, deeper and male.

“No, no,” comes another, higher and softer. “They can sleep together for tonight. You take Lancito. I’ll take Keith.”

He is awake enough to feel soft fingers brushing through his hair, then jostling, then heavy breathing beside his ear and the swaying of being carried. He falls fully asleep again against Marcela’s shoulder, leaning his weight onto her fully, forgetting to keep awake for the walk to their room. He stirs slightly again as he’s set down onto something soft, as he feels the familiar tug of Lance’s finger’s against the fabric of his shirt, the sound of his slow breathing.

“Goodnight, estrellitos,” comes the same whispered voice from earlier, and it’s the last thing Keith remembers before he slips away into sleep.

———

other parts in this universe: 1 2 3

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deadunderorbit · 9 months

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You know this scene in modern warfare II where Alejandro says "ehh I can't call Soap Johnny 😔" and Soap answers "Don't. Only Ghost can pull that off"

This scene in polish dubbing is so funny to me because somehow they kind of changed the meaning of this conversation (honestly most scenes in polish dubbing make me laugh)

In polish dubbing the literal translation would be

Ghost: "Johnny [...]"

Alejandro: "eh I WON'T call Soap "Johnny" 😡😤"

Soap: "Good 🙄. Only Ghost can say that"

In english dub Alejandro sounds like he's actually kinda disappointed that he can't call Soap "Johnny" like he knows it's reserved for Ghost (for some reason). But here he's just mad, and nobody even forces him to use this nickname so it doesn't make any sense. It's so silly I love them

and then Soap in eng dub says "Only Ghost can PULL THAT OFF" which suggests that nickname "Johnny" only sounds good? when Ghost says that and nobody else. Like this nickname only works if Ghost uses it.

But in polish dub he just says "Ghost is the only one allowed to say that 😇". Love him for that

I have love/hate relationship with this dubbing. I can't stand Soap's voice actor and at the same time I can't get enough of his voice. This is driving me crazy

#I have saved so many clips of polish mw2 dubbing #maybe I'll post some of them because I'm honestly curious what people outside of Poland think about it #cause from me and my friends it's so hard to watch #but you know maybe it's just because Im not used to it and it's my mother language and all that #cod mw2 #polish dub #call of duty #modern warfare II #soapghost #ghostsoap #john soap mactavish #simon ghost riley #cod soap #cod ghost

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marble-magnolias · 2 months

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haven't drawn them together in years i think

#13 year old me sees this and calls me a slur #i have both mother 3 on my laptop and earthbound on my wii u #think it's time for a replay #mother 3 #lucas mother 3 #ness earthbound #earthbound #mother series #like yeah this is a smash thing and not a mother thing but yk

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shower-phantom-ideas · 6 months

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Jazz becoming the next big Gothem villain is such a solid concept. Theres so much to explore.

She targets corrupt mental institutions. Corrupt companies who destroy their workers state of mind so they wont quit. She attacks landlords who make it impossible for people to live comfortably.

She is the staple anti-hero of anyone struggling to get back on their feet. People should have to work three jobs just to afford a crappy one bedroom, no utilities, half bath, in crime alley apartment, with a roommate.

Shelters should be aiming to gain a profit instead of using the donations to support others.

She is tired of these big name heros leaving children to clean up messes. She has watcher her own brother wither away to a shell of his former self trying to make a change and she is sick of it. Hell she herself is a child but if this is what it takes, then this is what it takes.

Enter from the left The Manipulator™️

Feared by all corrupt. People think she has mind control or something. When she targets someone they make almost a full 180 in their ways. “She will do anything to get her way or to make people into what she thinks they should be. And she mist be stopped” cries big business.

In reality she is the worlds best damn psychiatrist ever to be known. She doesn’t force anyone to change but gives them the choice to be better. To see how much more they can be. And it terrifies them. Helps them find themselves again and to move past their troubling pasts. No force and no mind control. No manipulating. No one but those who she has helped know the truth but when they tell the truth it only fuels the fire of her being controlling.

Theres one thing also fuelling the flames of mind control. Thats the fact that every single major hero to go after her can’t. Any who approach her find themselves no long near her. Superman just wants to talk, well she doesn’t, and he is then back in his city?!? Batman is stalking her to figure out how to deal with her but once he gets too close he suddenly finds himself in the batcave?

At first they think it’s teleportation but time is passing? Theres video feed and tracking of no they just went back themselves. No response from them the whole trip. As if possessed. (Lmao it’s just good brother danny pranking his sis a little by making her seem all powerful but also protecting her anyway he can. Or could be Dan instead)

#danny phantom #dp x dc #dpxdc #jazz fenton #manipulator? I hardly know her hehehehehehe these jokes are peak for me atm #jazz snaps and does some changing of the world #vlad is funding her because hes scared of her #no good tags today boiz I gotta call my mom and the hot water is gonw #yes yes I know I know I said I hate my mother but I am a good boi and will bring her lunch today so she eats #plus my sistet never leaves the house so im offering to take her too so maybe she can get some sun light #oh I got a promotion at work too btw #not the one I wanted but meh it’s something right?#gonna be working mon-fri 10hour shifts so ill be a bit busy sorry #got a catboi danny post in the drafts for you later though so u wont starve I guess #who am I kidding plenty of dpxdc posters for yall I aint gotta be worried #oof that makes me sad kinda so im a dip

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rosedeleca · 1 year

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I love both the MC's in this game and I'm really sad that they can't both exist in the Canon at the same time

So in my head I've already crafted an au where Kafka and silver wolf find twin stellarons that freak out and start causing disasters if you try to separate them, like the only start destabilizing and causing problems around them if they're too far apart. So Kafka and silver use both the male and female receptacles and put the stellarons inside.(maybe one receptacle simply can't handle two stellarons at once)

Stelle and Caelus really don't like being separated for some mysterious reason, like if anyone tries they both woozy and anxious and they're not exactly sure why. They do bicker like siblings though and fight over trash like raccoons.

#honkai star rail #Stelle #Caelus #in my mind I've assigned Kafka as the protagonist mother for some reason #canon might someday prove me wrong but I've been calling her my mother this entire time #the way I see it she shoved a “heart” in my chest and technically woke me from the eternal void of nothingness so

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parvuls · 8 months

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my favorite headcanon: the only season in jack's whole entire career where he isn't 110% focused on getting to and winning the cup is the one leading up to their wedding. bitty and he did plan around the playoffs, and are getting married later in the summer, but still - for the first time ever, some part of jack thinks it won't be so bad if the falcs get eliminated and he has more time to participate in the wedding preparations with bitty.

so of course, that is exactly the season the falcs win the cup again. bitty can't decide if he's more proud/overjoyed or angry about it.

#omgcp #omgcheckplease #zimbits #bitty: honey I know it's game 4/7 and everything hangs in the balance #but my mother AND your dad called me SIX TIMES today and I think I'm about to commit a crime. call me back #jack (weeks later to his barely sane fiancé): bud. I'm really sorry. but we were winning? and then. well. now I can give you another ring?#haha. uh. bits? maybe put the pie knife down?#headcanons #jack x bitty #text

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ishdaj · 2 months

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Finished Subnautica earlier and the brainrot compelled me to draw the Sea Emperor Leviathan as a mermaid. She's so cool I love her so much ;-;

Hopefully the first in a series. Definitely not the last Subnautica art I'll be producing.

Textless version below the cut:

#subnautica #subnautica spoilers #ryley robinson #sea emperor leviathan #sea emperor subnautica #subnautica fanart #call me old fashioned but i was raised to serve my queen. clean for her. cook for her and everything i do is for her.#She's mother (literally)#hello wildbow mutuals this isn't green eyes but i hope you appreciate this mermaid art all the same

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bonefall · 1 month

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My birthday was a couple days ago, and I got to see my bio dad for the first time in a while. He surprised me with the fact that I have a little half-sister, whom I've never met and who was adopted about two years back. So, I wondered if any situations in BB mimic this or have a theme of "secret siblings" or "secret family"? Sorry if this is a weird ask; this blog is honestly just such a cool little place and I love the way you approach the subject matter and take the flawed misogynistic foundation of the WC books and make them so much better (JUSTICE FOR BUMBLE!!!). I've also learned a lot about healthy and unhealthy relationships here and am really glad for your deep dives on Squilf and Bramble. Thanks, Bones!

Not weird at all! I really like exploring all the little nooks and crannies of complicated familial dynamics. I think one of the untapped strengths of WC (that the writers seem to be unaware of) is how their MASSIVE cast allows them to present all sorts of unique dynamics. So I like to pick up on it, since they don't.

For secret siblings...

I'm pretty heavily leaning towards Ambermoon being adopted by Wildfur, as a surrogacy. Something feels correct about it. Especially since Icecloud is getting retooled into a post-Battle of the True Eclipse birth, and a major supporting character in AVoS-era stories as a friend of Alderheart.

Thinking about it, I should zoom in and expand this. Maybe have Icecloud, somehow, acquire forbidden knowledge that would invalidate the Queen’s Rights and he (transman) struggles with if he's going to use it to expose his parents as an excuse to help Ambermoon.

(Especially since Ambermoon and Icecloud are basically nothing alike. Amber is independent, bold, and vain. Ice is jessie pinkman big-hearted, disorganized, and deceptively meek if you look past his "chill" demeanor)

But that's wip-- there's also Breezepelt and the Three, who are going to have an actual friendship. In particular I can't unsee Breeze and Lion having a deep one. I know I commit the Cardinal Sin of borderline himbo-ifying Lionblaze in BB, but I can't help it.

Hollyleaf ended up nabbing a bunch of his most violent roles to make her villainous descent smoother narratively, so BB!Lionblaze's story ends up being more focused on Ashfur's abuse, comic relief with cats in other Clans (something that the very serious Jay and Holly have a hard time providing), and the emotional fallout of the big reveal and Bramblestar's turn on them. Breezepelt slots neatly into that.

They were friends. Lionblaze's whole life came down around the reveal, everyone looking at him and his siblings differently, like they're suddenly something terrible. Why can't we find a silver lining, Breezepelt? Why can't we call ourselves brothers if the whole world is going to do it anyway? So much is changing, but THIS doesn't have to, we will take their weapon and turn it to armor, my ally, my friend, my brother.

(and when Breezepelt is lashing out at the three because of the Dark Forest's influence, Lionblaze is there, taking the blows and trying not to give in to the impulse to send him flying with a single paw)

There's also Harespring and Kestrelflight of WindClan and Owlclaw of ShadowClan. All of them are from a single litter between Whitewater and Mudclaw. She was going to raise the three of them alone as ShadowClan cats, but when the sire was smote, Whitewater felt they were cursed.

She was able to give the oldest two to their bio-uncle, Torear, but the weather was so bad that day and the runt was so sickly and small that it surely would have killed him. I don't think Owlclaw ever finds out why his mother always treated him with suspicion, but it did mess him up horribly.

Over in BB!DOTC, Thunder Storm is getting more half-siblings earlier. Clear Sky and Falling Feather had two daughters-- Pale Sky and Tiger Sky.

I want to explore the way that the various stages of Clear Sky's life acted on his kids. How any little curiosity Thunder Storm had about the life he might have had if he wasn't abandoned is crushed by seeing kittens who weren't. How Clear's favoritism of his oldest child set the trio against each other from the start. How this idea of "love" is toxic yet intoxicating.

It feels good to be the golden child. The power it gives you over his sycophants is satisfying. To know you, and you alone, have what someone else craves. Problem is, that's conditional, and it's cruel.

What Thunder Storm learns from his time with his biodad is that Clear Sky is not his father at all. He's taught him exactly what he DOESN'T want to be. There may be similarities-- in temperament, in physical prowess (though BB!Thunder is three-legged, he's still ripped), in taste and senses. But Thunder Storm's father is Shaded Flower.

(BB!Gray Wing died in the first book, rescuing Shaded Flower from being trampled by a horse. Xey're a patron of wisdom, Shaded Moss is taking the role of fatherhood to Thunder)

His sister is Rainswept Flower. His mom is Bright Storm. If there was a bond he could have had with Tiger Sky and Pale Sky, it dies simply and cruelly on the knife they used to cut each other out.

Pale might have wanted to mend it, she was the gentler one. But she dies in the First Battle along with her mother. Tiger Sky is too stubborn to accept any help, should Thunderstar offer it, and Thunderstar isn't in the business of begging for others to like him.

Naturally I'm lowkey obsessed with them lmao. I need to make a BB!DOTC overviewww

#I have a perspective on half siblings colored by a dynamic in my family #The generation above me has two siblings who had an awful biodad and an amazing stepdad (who did officially adopt them)#And there was nothing ''natural'' or good about how one of them was obsessed with their biodad.#It was influenced by his surroundings and did nothing but drag an incredibly toxic man back into his sister's life #Over and over #But anyway the son used to tell me ''theres no half in siblings''#The daughter adored her halfbrother through the mother who raised them-- but was adamant that her biodad's newer kids were nothing to her #I guess I agree with the son. But not in the way he believes it #There's no half in siblings because you either Are. Or you are Not.#You have a shared experience with having that person as a parent or you don't. And that's what's unchanging.#It's not the blood; it's the sweat and tears. But anyhoo #Personal details of my life aside #Tiger Sky and Pale Sky are Clear's Dead Angel Fetus Children in-canon. I think that was Weird.#So instead I made them. Not. Dead angel fetus children....#They're characters now lmaoo #Better bones au #I think Tiger Sky (i call her Tigs in my head a lot) is one of my favorite kit saves ever though #She's not going to be from the last litter either. I haven't picked who the mom is yet but he does have even more #At least one of those is going to make a grab at power but um. Sparrow Heart will not react Well.#BASICALLY lads I'm cooking. My revamps of the DOTC characters basically write themselves because I am very fond of them.#Clear's youngest: ''OH I JUST CANT WAIT TO BE KI-"#Sparrowstar: ''-lled.''

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