#Kinship

[straynoahide]

@sorry-i-got-the-jams

Don't worry, no one in our family is [REDACTED]

[apoemaday]

Kinship

by Ursula K. Le Guin

Very slowly burning, the big forest tree stands in the slight hollow of the snow melted around it by the mild, long heat of its being and its will to be root, trunk, branch, leaf, and know earth dark, sun light, wind touch, bird song.

Rootless and restless and warmblooded, we blaze in the flare that blinds us to that slow, tall, fraternal fire of life as strong now as in the seedling two centuries ago.

[dazai-wastelandbaby]

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[dsudis]

Medieval peasants did not behave in a manner modern social scientists think of as optimal for their circumstances.

--Barbara A. Hanawalt, The Ties That Bound: Peasant Families in Medieval England.

(Dr. Hanawalt explains that there is no real evidence that English peasants were living in or even particularly acknowledging the existence of extended kinship groups in the 14th-15th century, no matter how much anthropologists think they should have been.)

[datbitchbonnie]

Lois and Bonnie Devil AU (AU belongs to @loiswasadevil)

"My heart... I can feel it growing, Lois. Is this the power of a Devil's Heart?"

"Yes Bonnie. It is very important to keep this power locked away. Others won't understand..."

Lois takes Bonnie's hand and places it on her own chest. Bonnie feels Lois's heart beating with a devil's energy. They look into each others eyes.

Bonnie pulls away and looks down.

"It feels too impossible to control... it comes out against my will and it hurts me... it hurts everyone."

"That's called a catalyst, Bonnie. I have them too. I have a key I use to lock my Devil's Heart away... but it hurts me."

"Oh, Lois..."

Bonnie cups Lois's face in her hand. Her face is warm from her Devil's Power running through her body.

"We have each other now, Lois."

Bonnie and Lois stare into each other's eyes, seeing something in them that they didn't see before... Devils

[dedalvs]

Still learning High Valyrian here, but how would you say niece or nephew?

Ho, boy...

So for a parallel niece/nephew you just use the same word as daughter/son (i.e. tala is for a parallel niece and trēsy is for a parallel nephew). For cross nieces/nephews there's no gender distinction (like the word "cousin" in English [not French]). For those it just depends on whose child it is:

valonqar "little brother" > valonqranna "his son/daughter"

lēkia "older brother" > lēkianna "his son/daughter"

haedar "little sister" > haedranna "her son/daughter"

mandia "older sister" > mandianna "her son/daughter"

In using the term you evoke your relationship to the parent. But again, that's only for cross nieces/nephews. So you might have a lēkianna where as your brother has another tala, even though this refers to the same person.

[the-board-hoard]

A simple Folly x Bive board. We've started calling the ship "Sleep Paralysis" ever since we saw someone else call it that. It's fitting!

Wish there could be more detail, but we can always make another one later! Maybe something cuter next time. Maybe.

None of these images belong to us!

[whetstonefires]

2012 paper about the british colonial authorities trying to regulate the indenture of girl children within the malaysian chinese population, and how the difficulty started with even defining any of the terms involved, which i am reading for non-fic research reasons, had this passage that reminded me of some of my mdzs thoughts

[petrichor-moss-and-lightning]

on maternal lines and inherited rage

Shivani Mittal via Instagram // Kiki Rockwell, “Burn Your Village” // @cursedsuggestion // @domestic-butch // @petrichor-moss-and-lightning, “autonomy in the age of greed” // Lidia Yuknavitch, “Letter to My Rage: An Evolution” // unknown

[paracosmic-collective]

I have some sort of kinship with this little fella right here.

Like, we have some sort of things in common even when we have different interests. But science fiction would be something that we would read for fun

[digitalsigils]

‘our differences enrich us’

requested by anonymous

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[alex01uwu]

quick sketch of one of my kins :)

[dk-thrive]

I remember hearing about beavers in America, who built a 800-metre dam, generation after generation (…). This is the kind of story that keeps me going. The earnestness needed to attack a mountain with your teeth. These beavers’ humble knowledge, the dedication with which they continued weaving twigs against a river’s current which crushed everything, scattered everything. A feeling of kinship. We have the same job.

— Thomas Vinau, "Carnet de bord assis tout au bord du temps" in "Comme un lundi: Carnet de bord assis tout au bord du temps." (La Fosse aux Ours, August 23, 2018)

[gennsoup]

The mothers of autumn sour and sink, ferments of husk and leaf deepen their ochres. Mosses come to a head, heather unseeds, brackens deposit Their bronze.

Seamus Heaney, Kinship

[env0writes]

Cicada Sentences Vol. 2, 7.6.24 “The Good Ship: Lifestyle"

@env0writes C.Buck   Ko-Fi & Venmo: @Zenv0 Support Your Local Artists!   Photo by @env0

Adapter of ships how aching that sail Kinship and friendship both strong vessels adored All always viewed after relationships fail A lover, oh, loved on most pious-abhorred

How many ways can a lover be loved? When the waters will drown slightest folly Relations – kith and kin, birds of a feather-doved A siege might yet begin with a volley

Let not these arrows assail such birds No grievances, nor affections neither, bother Actions done contain volumes against spoken words Lest we recreate the marching adoration of our fathers

Should we surely blot the sun With arrows counted hourglass sand grains; thirty The stronger call upon me, my name is friend - One then stronger will break this siege with more than bread or birdie

Cloudy-like the morning fog, are early aspirations Lightly tread in uncertain deeds Will, won't - tug and pull of maybes made declarations To prostrate at the Gates or Honesty, professing your needs

To be a cause of expenditure of time Thief of precious grains, offering - what in return Promise of time, well spent unspoken-mime Moving through playground motions fulfilling in hope that aching yearn

[howifeltabouthim]

'I'm not strong enough for this,' he said. He cried then. 'You're tough,' she said. 'I—' She placed a hand on his cheek. 'You are. We sense our own kind. Kids dealt a losing hand. We look at others with fucking trivial problems, and we think how long they'd last with a taste of our childhoods.' He sobbed.

Chris Whitaker, from All the Colors of the Dark