#mentioned briefly but its there!

[sapphire-monkey]

I saw your tags on my post. Why do you think the Jedi are ‘over hated’ by the SW fandom? It doesn’t seem to me like a lot of people realize just how badly the Jedi and political elites like Organa failed in the PT. If you’re a big fan of Wukong, you’d know that child of the Force (what else are you supposed to call the spiritual energy of the Sky and Earth? Lol) would’ve gone rogue and cut all ties with the Jedi by TPM. Or….the Jedi would dub Wukong a Sith and hunt him down. Tell me about these mixed feelings of yours on the Jedi.

By the way, have you read the other novels in the four great classics? Namely the ones featuring generals and martial artists. Three Kingdoms and All Men are Brothers (水浒传)?

Sorry for the late reply, i was on vacation and i wanted to give this question proper thought. I'm flattered you wanted to hear my thoughts though! Bare with me because i'm not the best with words, but the Jedi are a mixed bag of an organization that suffers from author intent and execution. George Lucas is an orientalist white man, you'll hear no argument from me on that score. Like its clear he wants them to be Buddhist monks/samurai warriors not realizing that the two are kind of incompatible. And its clear that his white christian upbringing influences his idea of how the force works. like again if he wanted the force to be Buddhist/Daoist, why is there no reincarnation in star wars? why is the dark side a thing??? On the other hand though, I find some people hate the jedi because they really don't like how star wars morality works or they like anakin. Which is fine! I get that! but still gray jedi are not a thing, you can have them be fanfic but they're still not canon (not referring to you specifically, general you). So it feels more like a rage against the author then the jedi themselves. Then there are the fans who its not that they hate the jedi so much as they really really like the sith. Those fans especially are the ones who seem to hate the jedi in a sort of edge lord fashion. (i hope this makes sense T-T) Honestly i couldn't see sun wukong being a jedi if he was in star wars. But it'd be fun seeing him just demolish everyone there if they tried anything. The thing is the star wars universe has a moral code if you are a force user. and you don't have to like it, heaven knows i get that that's why fanfics exists. And i love those fanfics. Have you ever played SWTOR? I had a jedi consular and i loved her. She gave me yamato nadeshiko vibes. Her inner strength, devotion to duty, and a desire to help people gave me an appreciation for what the jedi could be with proper storytelling execution.

As for your great classics question, i want to read dream of the red chamber (or watch an adaption) I've been so busy though so everything is on a backlog. T-T

I hope I was able to answer well, again i'm not the best writer. ^-^

[rubysparx]

Honestly I don't think I'm qualified to make this post, I just don't know if I can make coherent enough words man. But the thoughts are in there and I will try to articulate them. This is probably going to be mostly images though. anyway yeah KABRU POST.

A couple nights ago (at approximately 2:30am, lasting a little over half an hour) I had a bit of a moment about Kabru. That, too, was mostly images- most of what you see in this more concise post were presented then as well. I think my main points of the "moment" were about Kabru's trauma + self hatred, his autism and/or general otherness, and also a little labru if you'd like..

I think something easy to start with is I wanna point out Kabru's constant back and forth and conflicting opinions of demihumans and how, I believe, thats a reflection of how he goes back and forth on what he believes his purpose of living is- and the general worth of his own life. I've said it before and i've just kinda shown it in images; Kabru is "i think im a monster and it disgusts me" where Laios is "I know im a human and it disgusts me" (i could go more into the latter on another post)

the above are both from the world bible, with the left being from the section on kobolds and the right being from the section on Kuro specifically. Utaya was very near to the desert where most of the kobold population is, this is likely why Kabru is able to speak Kuro's language- he grew up around demihumans. (chapter 48 cover, kobold chapter in the world bible) I won't try to speak for how his mother or the rest of utaya felt about the kobolds but I can say that Kabru was very much othered as a child, as was his mother, purely for the way her son's (kabru) eyes looked.

I feel like its fair enough to say that both kabru and the kobolds were othered, and possibly for similar reasons (villager's seeing them as nonhuman, as monsters) and the fact that Kabru learned their language probably didn't help his case. I think his perception of kobolds (and all demihumans, subsequently himself, as he probably still views himself as nonhuman or not human enough.. deep down) was damaged by the Utaya incident. at 2:30am when I first started this ramble my main comment was that "had the utaya incident not happened kabru would have little reason to feel ashamed for his connection to monsters. and may have ended up similar to laios in that he couldve had otherkin swag" which is just a sort of silly way of saying Kabru could've learned to love the thought that he is possibly nonhuman or at least not hated himself so much for it.

in the original ramble I said, and quote, "he has been STALKING laios. laios is his hyperfixation to learn how he can ever be loved. he keeps going back and forth so harshly on wether or not he wants to kill Laios and he clearly sees his survival from utaya not as an unfortunate trauma [*] but as a necessary, deserved fate. a punishment for his mother's witchy sins, and for his sin of being non-human. to atone for it all, to apologize for being alive, he tries to better the lives of all humanity. He was set on his way to dethrone the governor of the island . do you understand? im going insane" *i also said somethings about the way he processes other people's traumas and not his own. He's able to understand and even help some people, but he struggles to process his own issues and see himself as worthy of love and life.

^some examples of Kabru being understanding of or helping others who have suffered greatly. I think its also worth mentioning that with Rin (called "Lynn" in that translation) he says "I wish there was a way to get her out of this" though he's insisted and pushed for himself to go into a dungeon;

In chapter 94, Mithrun says "The desire I had left wasn't revenge. All I wanted.. was for it to finish devouring me." and I don't feel like it's a stretch to say Kabru was in a similar situation. Mithrun sought out the demon with no plan on how to kill something like that because deep down he wanted it to end his (Mithrun's) own life, to finish the trauma it caused and kill him. I think Kabru went into the dungeon in part with the hopes that it'd kill him. That the same thing that destroyed Utaya and caused him so much trauma would just.. finish him.

I just think Kabru is a beautifully complex character, I have a lotta thoughts on him and I don't see nearly as many analysis posts for him than I do Laios (despite labru being such a popular ship)

there is no tldr for this post idk how to summarize it. do what you will with this collection of images. have fun. go crazy

fun fact the woman in the bottom left corner is his mother, she is labeled here as "witch"

[simplyender]

Can you tell I've leveled up my game?

[baskipps]

Roni (roh-nee) the mouse

a creature of simple wants

[sunnibits]

just remembered men’s chest hair exists. peace and love on planet earth.

[chaocollective]

thinking about the trans apollo justice tag on a03

theres really not enough going enough on it. most of it is just porn. which is cool and all, but I'm tired of sorting through the tags down to what I want to read and getting about 20 results; and almost all of them being oneshots or being almost completely irrelevant to the fact apollo is trans in the story.

I get it that sometimes transness doesnt have to be the main point of a story. but like... it affects so many facets of your life at the time and I wanna see that explored in my favorite media.

so I'm thinking im gonna just do it myself, like a story that's relatively canon compliant, following the events of aa4 and maybe aa5/6. I dont know about those though since I havent played aa5/6 yet and I'm currently stuck on turnabout corner in aa4. either way I'm thinking I'm gonna write a sfw trans apollo justice fic. autism blast go go go!!!

[3-2-whump]

The Scent of Jasmine

<prev next>

Who's in the mood for some carewhumping after the emotional rollercoaster of almost dying? I know I am!

Thank you @whumped-by-glitter and @generic-whumperz for being awesome beta readers

TW/CW: aftermath of mock execution, trauma aftermath, extremely dubious consent, nonverbal whumpee, whumper turned carewhumper, dubiously consensual nudity, death threats, chastity devices (yes, it’s back), forced domesticity, food whump (sort of) (tagging it anyway to cover my bases), intimate whumper

The boss noticed Khaled’s grateful enthusiasm slowly fade into a catatonic silence on the drive home. He didn’t think much of it, though. Poor boy is just shocked is all, he told himself, we can work on that. He parked, got out of the car and led Khaled out of the garage and to the elevator.

His first order of business was to strip Khaled when they got home. The poor thing was soaked in melted snow and cooled piss. He was barely responsive as Thomas pulled him into the laundry room and slowly peeled each layer of clothing off his shivering body. “You need a bath, Khaled.”

Khaled didn’t reply, instead opting to stare at his bare feet with empty, starless eyes. I can’t blame him for being quiet. Anyone would be a little messed up after a mock execution, he figured. He sighed, gently taking the slave’s hand in his and leading him to the master bathroom.

Once inside, Thomas deposited him at the entrance and turned on the lights and the fan. Khaled stood silently watching him by the door as he knelt by the large, deep bath tub. “Come on in,” he beckoned. Khaled inched closer to the bath tub as Thomas poured a generous glug of bubble bath solution into the marble expanse and cranked the water full-blast, making micro-adjustments to make sure the temperature wasn’t too hot. As a finishing touch, he uncapped a tiny bottle of jasmine oil and dripped a few drops into the tub. The floral scent rose on the plumes of steam coming from the frothing tub.

Once the tub was full enough, Thomas turned off the tap and pulled Khaled closer to the tub. He effortlessly scooped the young man’s cold body into his arms, settling him on the edge of the bath tub before gently lowering him in. “I’m going to help you wash your hair and body. Nod if you understand me.”

Khaled faintly nodded, eyes fully closing as he slumped into the soapy water. “Good boy.” Nothing but a small, contented sounding whimper answered him. At least he’s becoming verbal again.

Thomas methodically washed the young man’s body and hair, being mindful of not getting any soap in his eyes as he massaged his scalp with the shampoo. He noticed the newly forming chafe marks on Khaled’s wrists as he scrubbed his body. All the while he whispered sweet nothings into his ear, like “good boy, you’re being so good right now, we’re almost done, I gotta rinse you off and drain the tub next.”

The awareness in Khaled’s eyes was flickering back on once Thomas helped him out of the bath tub and began towel-drying him. “Back with me, beautiful?” he teased.

“Mmm.” Inky dark eyes glittered up at him from dark lashes and damp strands of black hair as Thomas wrapped a soft fluffy towel around his shoulders.

“Yeah, good. Very good.” He procured something small and metallic from behind his back.

Khaled instinctively backed away as soon as he saw what it was. “Khaled,” he warned. It was all he needed to say for the boy to stay rooted on the spot. “I haven’t forgotten about you running around and getting an STD,” he explained as he wrapped the cock cage around Khaled’s privates. “And I’m still mad about it. But maybe I will let you out once we’re both all better.” He padlocked it in place and held the small caged appendage in his hand. “Or once I put that dumpster lover of yours under, like the horndog he is. Whichever comes sooner.” He marveled at how it was but a microcosm of Khaled’s greater captivity. As he craned his gaze upwards, he saw Khaled pout. “Oh, don’t give me that look –I’m doing this for your own good!” The boy smoothed his frown back into a neutral expression of apathy as he hid his eyes behind his lashes.

“That’s more like it. Now, can you change into your pajamas and wait in the living room until Master is done in here?” He measured out his words slowly and carefully, explaining it as if Khaled was a child again. Another quiet hum answered him. “Good boy. When I’m done, we can eat, and then we’ll watch whatever you’d like.” He gestured him out with a small wave of the hand, then hopped into the shower for a quick rinse off himself.

When he got out of the shower, towel-dried himself, and changed into a fresh pair of flannel pants and a wife-beater tank top, Thomas made his way to the living room, where Khaled sat on the floor, at the foot of the couch, gazing down at the carpet with desolate eyes. He was still wrapped in the bath towel. Seeing him there brought back memories of when Khaled was younger, when he would lean against his shins and let him brush his thick black hair. The memory brought back fond feelings in Thomas’ chest. He turned around and went back to the bathroom for a hairbrush.

Once he was done brushing his slave’s hair, they ended up sitting opposite each other at the dining room table, each with a plate of reheated takeout from a new Indian restaurant Tom had wanted to try. While the boss himself ravenously devoured the bhuna ghost, Khaled kept tearing the same corner of buttered naan between his fingers while staring apathetically at the murgh cholay.

“Are you sure you don’t want any more food?” he asked again. “You hardly touched your portion.”

The boy merely shook his head.

“Come on, at least two more bites, Khaled,” he coaxed. “Give me at least two more bites before I put it away.”

Khaled cast him an empty, weary stare, not breaking eye contact as he tore off the weathered chunk of bread, dipped it into the curry, and ate exactly two more bites.

They ended up cuddling onto the couch together after dinner, a rarity in their household. Thomas man-spread on the couch and rested his arms outstretched along the back. Khaled, still wearing nothing but a damp bath towel around his shoulders, leaned against his side with his head resting on his chest. His hands curled around a steaming mug of chai, which he occasionally sipped as they watched a rerun of the AFC World Cup. Khaled didn’t cheer, or groan, or offer any commentary of any kind throughout the whole match. It was unusual for Khaled to remain this quiet and glum during a game. Thomas gently took the mug from his hands and set it on the table. “What’s wrong? Why are you so quiet this evening? Is it –oh, is it because of that little scare off the side of the road?” he guessed. Khaled pushed his weight up against him, just short of burrowing into the man’s side.

“I guess I scared you pretty badly, didn’t I? Look, I’m sorry,” he apologized. “I know now it wasn’t you, but I had to be sure. I promise I will never fake you out like that again.”

The young man remained silent as he leaned against his chest.

“If anything, you should be blaming that boyfriend of yours,” he continued. “I bet he never would’ve attempted that hit if he knew what I was about to do to you tonight. But, what’s done is done, and now you’ll never see him again.”

Khaled did not respond.

It took about an hour more of mind-numbing soccer footage for him to realize the boy had fallen asleep on him.

Oh. He softly smiled as he turned off the TV. He carefully got up and lowered Khaled onto the couch, disentangling the towel from his unconscious, nude form. He propped a throw pillow behind his head, then unfurled a fleece blanket and draped it over him, making sure his feet were covered and he was properly tucked in for the night. “Goodnight, Khaled,” he whispered, leaning in to plant a soft kiss on the side of the boy’s parted lips. “I… love you...”

Le Tag List: @kabie-whump @rainydaywhump @whumped-by-glitter @skittles-the-whumpee @generic-whumperz @bamber344 @there-will-always-be-blood @morning-star-whump @a-la-whump @watermelons-dont-grow-on-trees @defire

[rambunctioustoons]

The celestial bot thrumming so intently, convinced anymore strain he'd pop a metal joint. Eyes fixated down to the shaking movements of his palms.

Today had been a terrible day, but nothing out of the ordinary. Fussy kids eating up the time needed for the other kids. Sun stretched out further than his fingertips could reach and wrangle the troublemakers out of harm's way in time. All it takes is one booming shrill of a voice advocating for chaos for all hell to break loose.

Every attempt to heed the storm and aid him met with a snappy strained pleasantry. He's got this, he's made for this! You've only got one fleshy squishy body, don't push it now. Some kid puts a little too much strain on his wrist joint, that's just show biz! And these crazy kids demand an encore!

Every attempt so far in the early evening air to talk to him met with a question about your well being. A comment about that funny thing you were both there to witness but not actually all that funny! How many minutes he had left before Moon would take the reins, and did you really really wanna spend the next half hour talking about how he feels? Silly, feeble, kind friend. He's just fine.

But he's not. Sure if there had been a way to see Moon flickering in those bright vacant eyes, you'd be giving each other the look.

No more chores left to do, none that he'd let you do anyway. Too high strung. Things snatched from your hands as he forcibly twists fate on the limits of his abilities. Trembling himself apart.

Little you could do to evade the inevitable parts & service visit if he kept pushing like this, so you've hatched a plan.

“Laundry-”

“Done and done! Done twice!”

“Folded sheets-”

“Pristine and crisply folded. Would you really need to check that?”

“Books-”

“All put away and alphabetical like they should be!”

You grin. “... Fairy lights?”

“Put away insideee theee closeet-....” Words dragged out in a dwindling song-songy tune, his faceplate whipping around to face you. “-why are you asking that? They're out of season, Friend.”

“I'll put ‘em to good use then!” You chirp, hands placed on your hips. “Closet?”

Sun squints skeptically. “Yes. Closet.” Eyes fixated on you, suspiciously. You ignore this, of course. Waltzing your way over to the Daycare storage closet. Gathering up the supplies in your arms. Awkwardly leaning down in the naptime nook as you pass by, nabbing a book at random. Using your foot to toss a few throw pillows atop of the pile.

Sun squints at you. “Whateeeever it is you think you're doing, just know, it won't. Work!”

“I’m taking a reading break, don't care what you do. ” You chime. An offended gasp piping up behind you. You duck into one of the corners on the ground level of the play structure. Tying the flat sheet to the gridded bars inside the small space. Weaving the corded battery powered lights inside, flicking them on. Flickering flimsy bulbs of light, shimmering a yellow hue on the play structure bars still visible. It wasn't perfect, but. Cozy enough to hopefully lure a creature right into the trap.

All you had to do was wait. Plopping yourself down in the makeshift blanket fort. Carefully cracking open the book, nesting the hardcover against your thighs. Not actually reading the words of course. Too focused on the shuffling outside the play place, jiggly footsteps alluding playing a game of who cracks first, and you intend to win.

Every fiber of your being trying not to beam with a grin, when Sun eventually ducks his head into the space, craned down to observe the hurried fruits of labour.

“There's still a lot to do, y’know.” He says. Tone wobbly, uncertain.

“I know,” You say, turning the page. “And there's even more to do tomorrow.”

“Sooooo,” He drags on, one hand gripping the caged siding. “We should keep going.”

“Sure.” You hum. “Five minutes.”

A disgruntled sound reverberates from your friend. Shoot. He's on to you. All or nothing now. You cheekily pat the remaining space on your legs. Worth a try, but not at all expecting him to take you up on it. A gesture of sincerity of course, glancing up at him. Pulling you into his lap aplenty times in moments of distress, or sorrow. Or to impishly move you aside because whatever you had been doing, was taking much too long.

Difficult as always to follow his eye line. Making a guess his gaze is fixated on your torso. Hands folding to his chest, restlessly squeezing his intertwined palms. Faceplate trained slightly down, you recognize this. A conversation you're not part of, and very little business pondering on. Turning back to the book, rolling your shoulders.

Sun, careful and hesitantly steps into the space with you. Kneeling down in front of you, paying him little mind. He's exhausted sure, but one wrong jeering word from your mouth and he'll scamper right back out away from you. Quiet whirring and rhythmic tapping atop of one bell. Words a blurry haze along the page to read at all, terribly distracted by the striped pants lingering above the peripheral. Sure if he made any sudden movements, you'd equally skitter out of the play structure too.

Sun reaches hesitantly for the book. Index and thumb pinching the pages on either side of the hardcover book. You let him, smiling up at him gently. He never really indulged in much book reading, much more of a collaborative storyteller. Eagerly adopting any silly, outlandish detail a guest would pipe up with during play time.

Pulled from your musing as he closes the book, setting it aside.

Careful movements as he closes the space between the two of you. Contorting himself down with much less graceful ease than you'd ever seen, and flops right in your lap. Faceplate pressed flat against your tummy, gangly arms quick to encircle your torso. Slumping his weight down as he lets out a shaky faux breath. Full heartedly admitting defeat, solidified as he speaks up.

“Today was bad.” Words lightly muffled, for effect of course. His speaker box didn't reside in the mouth rested against you.

“It was.” You affirm gently. Resting your arms along the backs of his shoulders, met with a small twitch underneath you. His arms squeezing you tighter after a good few moments.

“How much longer?” He inquires hesitantly, tilting his head up to see you.

“Lost count.” You tease softly.

His rays twirl once, in place of an eye roll. Plopping his face to rest back against you once more.

“Five more minutes then.”

“Five more it is.”

[nightowlfury]

tidbits from kant's file:

the file is updated for this year, 2567 = 2024. i'm not sure what the 353 means

kant's birthday is 27 march (มี.ค.) (year is blurry but we know it must be 2537/8 aka 1994/5 since he's 29. march has very likely passed in the show so im 95% sure it's 2538 (also looks more like an 8))

his career is listed as free/independent which i assume (probably?) means self-employment basically which would make sense. im not privy to thai census record terminology though

lives in bang phlat district. it's right on the chao phraya

im not great with names so i could be a little off, but it seems like his dad's name is phong junior..? he has อนุ in his name which i think can mean junior, but typically means small/kid/minor (roughly)

mom's name is samon (means beautiful/beloved woman lol)

under spouse (wife/husband) "miss" something is listed (นางสาว___) (possibly also ms.). cuts conveniently off lol. very likely he was/is married*

not sure what's under the spouse line. includes 173 ช.ม. (i believe). ชั่วโมง is hour, which is the only word i can think of it might abbreviate. 173 hours? shrug

*im curious about this, like everyone probably, but since this file is updated to 2024 and this person is listed under spouse, wouldn't that imply they're still technically married...?

at the same time, it says miss, not mrs. like kant's mom. However, mrs. is just นาง as opposed to miss = นางสาว. สาว means 'young woman'. i dont know if that means anything but i wonder if women who marry young/in their teens are still referred to as นางสาว. but Even if that were the case (which is a big if), wouldnt her title be updated now that she's presumable older in 2024? unless she like. uh. died

[aquapolis]

can we talk the fact that when fujiko lost her memory her first observation about lupin was how he looked like a nice person and he reacted like that was the most painful, horrible thing he'd ever been told by a woman who's literally held him at gunpoint multiple times I'M DYING TO TALK ABOUT THE FACT TH

[anistarrae]

I've had a Kirby hyperfixation since my childhood and your art and super good animations bring back even more of the joy the games gave me. The lighting captures such a sweet mood in all your stuff also as someone who tried animation briefly... Chefs kiss to all of your animations anyway if just thought I'd join in on thoughts about u and ur stuff <3

HI HI im so sorry for not responding to this for a month :sob:

this is EXACTLY how i want my work to feel to others! a brief feeling of joy, something to make you think, something to make you feel something. anything can be artwork, but my favorite kinds are ones that makes you think or feel something, anything. to be able to convey that through artwork and have it work, it feels so special everytime :') i really appreciate your words, i kept replaying this message in my mind, thinking id respond then forget😭.. you get a small part of a bg in an animation im working on as an apology............

[neonhellscape]

new rt everyone shes a freak whos pretty sure shes been been given the role of rogue trader as an act of divine intervention to eventually replace the godemperor and bring new glory to the imperium which she thinks is dull and stagnant. dont worry about why she keeps marazhai caged in her trophy room like he's bait its not important and completely irrelevant to the fact ive joke nicknamed her simon thresh. has anyone noticed a lot of slaaneshi demons during warp jumps lately

[rainofthetwilight]

honestly, when i first saw sora's backstory, i didnt react much, but now im noticing everything and its just really sad to think about

see this little kid who was full of hope? see this girl, that was just an innocent kid full of life, having that one role model that every kid had in some point of their lives?

this girl was then stripped away from everything she loved the moment she realized the truth, that this "role model" of hers was abusing poor innocent creatures, that their people have been brainwashed by this so-called emperess she actually used to follow, having your own parents shun you and take away everything you had and isolate you just because you knew the truth, and said truth wasnt just something bad, no, it was a fucking nightmare to think about, imagine taking that all in at 10

if the merge never happend, she would've been stuck in that sucker of a realm her whole life. she wouldve never been able to continue her childhood, her love for tech, nothing just absolutely nothing. she wouldve been locked away and alone forever, she wouldnt even have her own family by her side

the fact she didnt even hesitate to leave when the merge happend is heartbreaking, she was so fucking young, and was treated so poorly by everyone. imagine staying like that for probably months. she even named herself after that freaking dragon to respect her.

and as someone who actually experienced what sora had to endure when i was a kid, being shunned by my family for nearly a year during that time, i just have to point out that:

ana and sora are two completely different charcters.

when ana left, she became sora. a completely new person that was an ending with a new beginning, seeds that became remenants.

I know alot of people will disagree with me and say that lloyd had a tougher backstory, or maybe harumi, etc, but every charcter experienced something the other wouldnt handle, making no tragedy rougher than the other

i have nothing else to say but..damn

[jvpiterstears]

being a season 1 fictive (pickle) is so strange because. like. wdym. you’re telling me all of that happened?? my wife left me? i die? …..am i gonna come back????? where’s my emotional support taco. i’m going fucking insane without her

[moeblob]

So it occurs to me that I posted most of their lore on my OC blog (though a few posts on here have the story info) and honestly I think it's very important to note that the entire reason a guy from Florida is recruited to help defeat the demon lord isn't him as the hero. His younger brother (by about ten years younger) is the Chosen Hero and... not very good at it. So the goddess (Solei) who had selected the hero has to begrudgingly go back to earth and convince his older brother to help save her world.

(Also Reynold admits to Solei that "Sascha could never be a bad influence. He's the best impulse control I've ever had" and she really doesn't like to hear it. That's terrifying.)

[yuridovewing]

it actually is so bullshit that mothwing is so defined by her relationship to hawkfrost and how they grew up together and he ended up mistreating her, and that the erins just couldn’t care less about her relationship with her half siblings. hawkfrost is allowed to have some contrived half baked thing with brambleclaw but mothwing has zero family left and i guess they all just pretend shes this totally unrelated girl or something