#orphan black kin

[dcdreamblog]

Question.

I have heard people assert that the current bearer of the heroic identy of the Guardian is a clone of the original. I have also seen photos of The Guardian working with the Titans, and...he's very clearly a Black man.

So, um. I have questions, because you would think the newspapers back in the '30s would have... mentioned this, especially given how he was reported to have campaigned hard to ease ethnic tensions in the poorer parts of Depression-era Metropolis, denouncing those who exploited or exacerbated those tensions as being friends of crime and enemies of America's ideals even before the War started?

Ok so, we're crossing a lot of streams here and I want to you to know that that's normal. These sorts of things are opaque and confusing and that is why we HAVE people like my in the first place. You are thinking of 3 different men right now. In order:

Guardian I, AKA James Jacob "Jim" Harper

(Sketch of Harper and his wards the "Newsboy Legion" signed by the legendary pop artist and correspondent Jack Kirby)

Harper was indeed born and raised as an orphan in the Metropolis neighborhood known as Suicide Slum (the name has stuck but I can tell you, in the 21st century it's as clean and safe as the rest of Metropolis, mostly to Black Lightning's credit). During the depression it was infamous for a reason, flush with organized crime, poverty and corruption.

Harper originally attempted to serve his community as a police officer but found that the police department was half or more of what was wrong with the neighborhood in the first place. After being assaulted by some gangsters he cobbled a costume together from a nearby shop (which he still paid for, incidentally). Bursting into a nearby pool hall his attackers frequented, he actually ended up busting open a rather high profile kidnapping case.

Eventually he became the legal guardian of a group of young delinquents called the Newsboy Legion and helped to turn them toward the path of righteousness. He joined up with the All Star Squadron early, served with distinction during and after the war. (We have an exhibit here all about him, the costume and shield are reproductions of course because both are still in use more or less, even if they weren't they're rightfully in the hands of his next of kin)

He was cloned under vile circumstances by the equally vile Project Cadmus, who were up to all kinds of immoral and unethical genetic experiments. When Harper attempted to put a stop to it, he was killed by Cadmus' head of security.

The murder was uncovered and prosecuted through the combined work of Superboy, the clone of Harper and Cadmus' secretly enslaved workforce the Genomorphs. Who are a subject all of their own but, if any should be reading this, I hope you are thriving.

The cloned Harper is still active as a superhero in the modern day. One can assume under an assumed name but variants of "Jim Harper" wouldn't jump out at people even if he was going by it day to day. Out of respect for his privacy I'm not going to speculate any further into his personal life, one can assume he has been through MORE than enough.

Now the other man you spoke about is VERY mysterious indeed...

(The 3rd Guardian alongside Bumblebee in battle against The Ant, unknown photographer, posted online) You are right in that he is very clearly a black man and that is basically ALL I can say about him. He seems to come and go, always in the company of the Teen Titans, is in some manner of romantic relationship to mainstay member Bumblebee and he just up and vanishes for long stretches of time. (This was put together by clips captured of them in combat. Referring to Bumblebee as "baby", "dear" or "my girl". And being referred to as "babe", "lover" and "man of mine")

Theories, of course, abound with the most popular one being that he is the romantic partner/husband/whatever of Bumblebee in their civilian identities and while not a superhero by trade he will take up this identity when needed. A "friend of the family" I guess you could say who hops in when the Titans need an extra pair of hands.

He's competent in combat and seems to be trusted implicitly by the Titans themselves so who the hell am I to judge?

[spotted-mooncalf]

Remake of Aerania’s Biography sheet with her new design:)

(Lay out credits to @kiwiplaetzchen !)

Fun facts about her!:

-Aerania is an orphan. Her mother was a pureblood witch, while Her Father was a muggleborn. His own Parents Disowned him after he said he wished to marry her mother and abandon the muggle world.

-Her parents studied beasts and magical cures, they travelled all around until they were killed in a poacher raid. With no known next of kin to take Rania in, she was placed in an orphanage for magical children in London, run by a kind squib woman.

- She actually lived with Professor Fig and his wife,Miriam, from the time she was 12-15! Her magical abilities were late to blossom due to her special ability, so they trained her until she was ready to start as a 5th year!

- She loathes competitive flying, and everytime Imelda suggests they run a course, all she thinks is “I could be playing summoners court with Leander right now☹️.” But she does love quidditch!(as a spectator only!)

-The Weasley’s have taken her in as their own. Since Fig died, Black managed to track down her grandparents for her,they are nice people, and they do miss their son and are glad to know Arabia, but still do not agree with magic, as such she is banned from keeping her wand on her person at home. In her 6th year she is invited to spend the Holiday break with Garreth and his family and she has continued to do so:) I did this bc I like the little parallel between mc and Harry being adopted into the Weasley Family!

- Sebastian and Ominis are definitely her best male friends, but She is hopelessly inlove with the charming Ginger who includes her in his mischief. Her and Garreth are my main ship<3

- For her career I decided she would be very intrigued with Nerida, and her cause to help the merpeople, especially seeing what being treated unfairly by wizardkind can cause in the goblin uprising. She and Nerida continue their research and together they become liaisons for the merpeople at the ministry of magic, but eventually she goes back to Hogwarts to take up the mantle as Magical Theory Professor, following in both Proffesor Fig’s and the keeper’s of the pasts footsteps by not only becoming the same professor Fig was, but staying close to home, and the repository.

If you’d like to know anymore about her my asks are open!:)

[bookgendrya]

Rich Girl x Poor Boy

“The Hand’s daughter.” Harwin went to one knee before her. “Arya Stark, of Winterfell.”

“I’m a ‘prentice smith, and one day might be I’ll make a master armorer[…]”

Forced Proximity

“I’m taking men and boys from the city,” Yoren growled as sharp steal scraped her head.[…] Afterwards he told her from here to Winterfell she’d be Arry the orphan boy.

“I did my work, is all. Bellows and tongs and fetch and carry. I was ‘sposed to be an armorer, and one day Master Mott says I got to join the Night’s Watch,[…]”

Found Family

She make much better time on her own, Arya knew, but she could not leave them. They were her pack, her friends, the only living friends that remained to her, and if not for they would still be safe in Harrenhal, Gendry sweating at his forge and Hot Pie in the kitchens. If the Mummers catch us, I’ll tell them that I’m Ned Stark’s daughter and sister to the King in the North. I’ll command them to take me to my brother, and to do no harm to Hot Pie and Gendry. They might not believe her, though,and even if they did…Lord Bolton was her brother’s bannerman, but he frightened her all the same. I won’t let them take us, she vowed silently, […]

I Hate Everyone but You

“She’s no use,” Gendry repeated stubbornly. “Her and Hot Pie and Lommy, they’re slowing us down, and they’re going to get us killed. You’re the only one of the bunch who’s good for anything. Even if you are a girl.

“Arry, come on! Lommy’s gone, leave her if she won’t come!” Stubbornly, Arya dragged all the harder, pulling the crying girl along. Hot Pie scuttled back inside, abandoning them…but Gendry came back, […]

Miscommunication 

“She’s my sister.” Gendry put a heavy hand on the old man’s shoulder, and squeezed.” “Leave her be.”[…]“Why did you say that?” Arya hopped to her feet. “You’re not my brother.” “That’s right,” he said angrily. “I’m too bloody lowborn to be kin to m’lady high.” Arya was taken aback by the fury in his voice. “That’s not the way I meant it.” “Yes it is.” He sat down on the bench, cradling a cup of wine between his hands. “Go away, I want to drink this wine in peace. Then maybe I’ll go find the black-haired girl and ring her bell for her.” “But..” “I said, go away. M’lady.” Arya whirled and left him there. A stupid bullheaded bastard boy, that’s all he is.

Love Triangle

He doesn’t like Ned. The squire seemed nice enough to Arya; maybe a little shy, but good-natured.

Forbidden Love

“You must be a lackwit, boy,” said Lem. “We’re outlaws. Lowborn scum, most of us, excepting his lordship. Don’t think it’ll be like Tom’s fool songs neither. You won’t be stealing no kisses from a princess, nor riding in no tourneys in stolen armor. You join us, you’ll end with your neck in a noose, or your head mounted up above some castle gate.”

Right Person, Wrong Time

As Arya was cinching her saddle girth, Gendry came up to say that he was sorry. She put a foot in the stirrup and swung up into her saddle, so she could look down on him instead of up. You could have made swords at Riverrun, for my brother, she thought, […]

There was life at the crossroads inn, though. Even before they reached the gate, Brienne heard the sound: a hammering, faint but steady. It had a steely ring.

“…till you stand before m’lady.” Renly stood behind the girl, pushing his black hair out of his eyes. Not Renly, Gendry. “M’lady means for you to answer for your crimes.”

[morgaknight]

Rolan HC's (soft family and tiefling stuff)

-Rolan is 3 years older than Cal and Lia

-Cal and Lia are twins (Lia is 2 minutes older)

-Rolan was dropped off at an orphanage at birth. He was swaddled in nice blankets, and it was assumed his mother was likely a non-tiefling from a noble family, and did not want to be saddled down with a tiefling child. (whether his father was a fellow tiefling, a cambion, or some other brand of fiend is unknown)

-It's often joke that all tieflings are "kin" in the eyes of non-tiefs, and that everyone assumes all tieflings are related... but when a 6 year old Cal and Lia saw a 9 year old Rolan... they really did think that he was kin.

-Cal and Lia grew up with their mom in a tiefling community, but it was mainly mephistopheles tiefs, so when there was another red skinned, black horned, and yellow eyed tief, they instantly gravitated towards him and the next several hours Rolan spent playing with kids that didn't look down on him.

-When Cal and Lia heard their mom calling for them to come home because dinner was ready, they were confused why Rolan wasn't coming along too. They had to drag him. Rolan: YOUR mom isn't MY MOM. Lia: How do you know? You said you don't know your mom! Maybe she is! Rolan: Because MY mom was a noble woman. Cal: Okay but if Mom ISN'T your mom.... maybe she knows your mom. Mom knows everyone. -With the whisper of maybe finding his family, and the promise of dinner... Rolan was convinced to come along.

-Cal and Lia's poor mother. Lia had a habit of never meeting a stranger, and Cal had a habit of bringing any wayward strays... but she tried to hide her surprise when her children came home with an orphan...

-Rolan was pretty mature for his age, and was embarrassed when the young woman tried to politely hide her surprise at her children's blithe immaturity and excitement. Mom: Okay okay, well you can tell me all about this after you've washed up and sat down at the table. Rolan backs out of the doorway as Cal and Lia run in to wash up. He felt so foolish. His heart ached watching them sprint away from him. He swore to himself to never pass through this neighborhood again while walking back from the library. Mom: You're not hungry, Rolan? Do you have a curfew? Rolan: Uhm, Harvark's doesn't care where we are as long as we're there for roll call in the morning. She recognized the name of the orphanage. Noticed his embarrassment. Mom: Well, I made far too much stew today so you'd be doing me a favor by helping us eat it. So come in, wash up, and have a seat at the table before it gets cold! -They sat at the table and for the first time in Rolan's life, he ate dinner with a family. -The only time he went back to the orphanage was the next morning (before roll call!) when Mom interviewed (aka paid) to adopt him. Lia: I TOLD YOU Mom was your mom! I was right!

-Sometime after his official adoption, angsty Rolan got into a fight with Lia and screamed that he wasn't really their brother, or a part of this family.

-which made Cal cry (Cal still is the crybaby)

-Mom explained to him that though they aren't blood-related, they *are* a family. That someday there might be a time where family was all the three of them had. -Mom got sick when Rolan was 16. It was a long sickness that slowly took her life over the course of 2 years. -On her deathbed, as a final request. She asked that Rolan Look after his brother and sister. Stick together and look out for each other.

-Rolan is thankful Mom passed long before Elturel fell into Averus.

[valentineish]

Something that gets referenced, but not fully understood in discussions of privilege is like. How dependent on legal family that shit is. Acting up in class is treated with additional suspicion and fear if you have an incarcerated or institutionalized parent. Disability resources assume you have family caring for you. You're only "white passing" until you're observed with your Black family. Childhood and young adult poverty are dismissed because the assumption is that family should be able to fill in the gaps.

Part of how things like whiteness and patriarchy and classism remain systemic is with dependence on legal familial units. One's place within these structures depends on who you are related to, and how you call upon them – if you can. This reinforcement exists both as punishment (E.G., "one-drop" law in the U.S.), and as reward (E.G., generational estate planning).

Importantly, this system relies on having legally bound family to call upon. That is the support upon which every other support network, benefit, and penalty is built upon. Since becoming an adult orphan, I cannot overstate how stark it becomes if you lack that pillar. Every one of these systems is built to grind up and discard the people without a family unit – without the right kin.

Particularly at this juncture in history, it is vital that people see this.

[sitp-recs]

I normally only read in-world fics, but do you have any great Drarry AUs. Either non-magical or no Voldermort or historical, whatever (I'm not crazy about things that mess with the actual content of the books, but might love something super clever.) THANK YOU! ❤️❤️❤️❤️

Hi anon! We’re actually very similar as in I don’t often venture into AUs so chances are you might enjoy these as well :) let me know!

Full AU:

Veðr by @shealwaysreads (M, 2.7k)

Norsemen have ranged far enough inland to find Harry, alone and abandoned by his kith and kin. But they bring far more than danger with them, they bring adventure, they bring magic.

Mad Blood Stirring by provocative_envy (E, 3.2k)

It's not like they've been angrily hooking up on the sly since meeting at a Juniors skills camp in fucking Manitoba four years ago, except that's exactly what they've been doing.

Big Hands by @fw00shy (E, 4.5k)

Draco Malfoy is a pianist who's just moved to Paris. Harry Potter, his new roommate, has the biggest hands he's ever seen. Draco is immediately obsessed.

Trouble by @l0vegl0wsinthedark (E, 7k)

Now Draco’s cock is stirring, and he can’t breathe because all he can think of is screaming Harry’s name while Harry pins him down and mindlessly fucks him into total incoherency.

The Virtues of Hygiene and the Binary of Labour by @piarelei (E, 14k)

Draco does what he always does every autumn; packs his bag and follows a path back home. This time, Potter just happens to travel the same roads.

Give Me a Quiet Mind by calrissian18 (T, 16k)

Draco is Weasley’s assistant. Except for the week he’s not. Whose brilliant idea was that again?

Black Coffee on a Lonely Night by Femme (M, 21k)

Draco owns a café in the city. Harry's a MP who comes in every morning, newspapers in one hand, BlackBerry in the other, and orders a triple espresso macchiato.

Rush (For A Gap That Exists) by @sleepstxtic-drarry (M, 42k)

A story of love and loss that grew amidst the most infamous rivalry in Formula One history: the story of Draco Malfoy and Harry Potter.

In the Bleak Midwinter by @the-fools-errand (E, 105k)

After serving in the border wars for the ever-expanding dominion of Lord Voldemort, Draco and his cousins have returned to Hogsmeade to resurrect the old Black Family name in crime. But when a shipment of wands bound for the front lines falls into their possession, they find themselves at the centre of an investigation backed by the Dark Lord himself.

Nightcall by Femme and noeon (E, 116k)

A hideously mauled corpse is found sprawled across the paving stones of Brick Lane in the East End of London. Inspector Harry Potter--widely believed to be the lead candidate for next Deputy Head Auror--is called in to investigate a possible magical crime.

Within the HP Universe:

Intelligence by aideomai (T, 5.8k)

“I don’t believe it,” Ginny said, voice low with venom and fury. “Did you know?” “I knew there was a spy,” Hermione said.

And Save Me From Bloody Men by @blamebrampton (T, 10k)

Draco Malfoy once watched others fighting to stop the world falling apart. This time, he's not just watching.

Settle in in my slow-burning heart (orphaned, NR, 10k)

Five years after the war Draco is working a tech developer job in the Auror Office, and it's all great except this one thing: Harry Potter works there, too. Things only become stranger when Harry starts bringing Draco ugly souvenirs back from his work travels.

All the Ashes Like Leaves by firethesound (M, 21k)

Nothing about being the Chosen One had prepared Harry for this. With most of the population blinded and man-eating plants running amok, he can only stay close to his friends as they make their way to safety.

Gossip Boys by mypetelephant (E, 24k)

Confiscated Dark objects have been disappearing from the Ministry, and journalist Harry Potter is on the case. Unfortunately, he has to drag along Draco Malfoy, gossip columnist extraordinaire, whose subject of choice is everyone's favorite desultory hero.

Burn the Curtains and the Wine by @nerdherderette (E, 24k)

There are two versions of Harry Potter: the wizard who is the Ministry of Magic's most dangerous and successful assassin, and the husband who leads a staid life of domesticity with a reformed Death Eater. And never the twain shall meet.

The Good Guys by Frayach (E, 26k)

The Second Voldemort War is limping into its fourth year, and the Forces of Shining Light are slowly turning into the Forces of Expedient Grey. When Draco Malfoy is captured red-handed trying to sell an illegal potion to a clerk at Borgin & Burkes, he is handed over to the Department of Essential and Necessary Truth’s newest interrogator.

The Boy Who Died by @magpiefngrl (E, 27k)

Harry dies in the forest. Sixteen years later, he comes back to life.

Little Red Courgette by @blamebrampton (T, 31k)

When this season's purple courgettes are woefully thin, Draco Malfoy thinks it amounts to small beans. Next thing he knows, the Department of Standards is over-run with leeks, Brussels sprouts all sorts of legislative difficulties, and somebody appears to have put a roquette under Harry Potter.

The Secret Keeper by @the-fools-errand (M, 225k)

On Halloween 1981, Albus Dumbledore made a decision that would change the course of history, concealing Harry Potter’s survival at the hands of Lord Voldemort underneath a Fidelius Charm. But when Harry comes of age in the Muggle world, Dumbledore realises too late that the fate of the world may depend on a boy who has never held a wand.

[monochromatictoad]

You know what, I've said it once, and I'll say it again.

Everything NFCV and Nocturne wishes it could be, was done SO much better in the Lords of Shadow Trilogy. These are in no linear order, I'm just writing them as I think of them.

Sad boy Dracula who gets redeemed and wife back? Dracul not only did it better, but wasn't the equivalent to a piece of wet tissue paper while he was depressed. No, he continued to try his best and sacrificed his humanity for humanity, which resulted in him growing enraged and betrayed by everyone who backstabbed him. He grew stronger, learned more skills with magic, and uses his own blood as a weapon. God also still loves him, and he has special privileges of being God's Champion.

Marie. She has more character than any of the women in any part of NFCV combined. And she's dead half the time! She encourages Gabriel to continue his mission. She helps him where she can along the way! And the only reason she lies to him about Trevor, is because she was trapped between a rock and a hard place! She wasn't given an option, and in the end, she chose to potentially let her son live. It wasn't an easy decision for her, and you can see it in her body language in MoF and the Castle portions of LoS2.

Speaking of Trevor, LoS Trevor is everything Tiddiecard wishes he could be. LoS Trevor is smart, but incredibly emotional, like his father. He wanted revenge, and failed, which resulted in him becoming Alucard, but also for his wife to lose her life, his son to be orphaned, and the village he lived in to be destroyed. By the way, he has a breakdown after he comes out of his tomb, and finds out he's been turned. But despite this, he still partners up with his son, who is now Thirty-seven (37). Also, Dracula buried Trevorcard in custom armor and a weapon, crafted solely for him.

Also, Trevor only got turned, because he was staked by Dracul, who used the VK against him. As in, Dracul disarmed Trevor and then staked Trevor with it. Dracul, once finding out that he just killed his son, tries to force blood in his mouth, to save him. Dracul thinks he failed, and has another on screen sob. It's unclear whether or not Dracul knew Alucard was going to awaken, considering that he knew his kin was to defeat him, thus being the theory behind the baby skull mountain.

Also, did I mention that Dracul is an unhinged bastard in MoF? There's two ways you can interpret the baby skull mountain. One, the in game theory of Dracul impregnating women and killing the babies. Two, Dracul kidnapping babies, maybe lost in a delusion that he can bring the son he didn't get to know back. Personally, I think it could be the latter, however, those are just theories, and it's never explicitly stated in any of the main campaigns. (I'm not counting the DLC on this, because I have not read the notes in any of the DLC.)

You root for Dracul in LoS2. You watch his downfall from Gabriel to Dracul, from Angel to Demon. His redemption arc was deserved, and he fought for redemption. He killed his inner darkness for his family! He defeated Satan, a second time, to protect Humanity! He's still God's Champion! Not only did he work to earn his family's and God's forgiveness, he forgives himself!

Gabriel loves Marie. He adores her. He also loves Trevorcard. It's so blatantly obvious when he interacts with them in LoS2.

Fucking, Carmilla. She was a founder of the Brotherhood of Light! She was kickass, while being described as a kind soul when she was human! In LoS1, her Lord of Shadow form is monstrous. She doesn't need a cocktail gown nor anime hair. She is simply shrouded in a black gown, that if MercurySteam could've gotten away with her being nude, they would've. But it works, because Lords of Shadow are the unholy counterparts that couldn't go to heaven with their holy counterparts. But back to her monstrous form, she is kickass in this form. She doesn't need to be fancy, because why would she? Carmilla has an entire army of vampires, that also consist of Demons who were turned! Plus, she doesn't die from being staked, she dies because Gabriel was just strong enough to keep her in place long enough for the sun to fry her.

Death. Simply put, it's hard to surpass Patrick Stewart voiced, asshole Death, who is incredibly powerful in his own right, though not physically. Zobek plays a manipulating ally so well, I didn't think hard about his weird dialogue until he revealed himself as Death!!

Laura. Oh, poor Laura. She is an incredibly sympathetic vampire, because she was a child kidnapped and turned by Carmilla. She was still threatening, almost killing Gabriel before a cutscene happens, and she watches Marie come down and comfort Gabriel. There, she states that she's jealous of them, before saying that she doesn't want to play anymore. She calls to Gabriel in the DLC, because she knows she can't fight the Forgotten One by herself! Laura is a scared child, and is doing what she can to help! Her sacrifice of giving her blood to Gabriel to turn him SAVED HUMANITY.

Also, it has wonderful commentary, of you actually pay attention to the lore! Such as, it's take on religion is basically, Religion itself isn't bad, but it's the people in power of said religion who are the problem. It encourages questioning, because God is forgiving and loving, and will always welcome you back if you need to step away. The Acolytes in LoS2 are modeled and influenced by Western Politics. It's especially noticeable with Nergal Meslamstea, the second Acolyte, who, and I quote, "Gave people the rights to bare arms" thus making the robotic Police force that turns on civilians. I wonder who that's based off of. Raisa Volkova does Biased science and human experimentation, being the one who starts and spreads the virus that turns people into demons. Guido Szandor, who is based around cult leaders.

That's it for now. It's almost 12 AM for me, and I'm tired. I'll add when I think of more. Also, this kinda went on a tangent, so I apologize, I just have a lot of emotions.

[lydiaalin]

would love to know more about your horror cowboys! are they from a personal project or some other media (game/book?)

they’re from a game called Hunt Showdown, it’s an extraction shooter in a horror western setting where some entity called the Sculptor has taken over an area in New Orleans and is essentially corrupting every living thing (see: shambling zombies everywhere, giant spiders made out of a bunch of people, some dude made out of bugs, headless dudes that see through leeches coming out of their body etc.)

there’s a secret organization called the American Hunters Association which deals with the occult and supernatural and they went in to contain the situation and banish the bigger monsters, but the whole event attract the outside attention and there are rich benefactors vying for a piece of those monsters as trophies (and who knows what else) so there were a bunch of bounty hunters and money desperate, or people with something to prove, going in besides the Association and fighting over the, which has been dubbed as the Hunt

The three ‘cowboys’ I posted are my own OCs that are all in some way involved in the Hunt but ngl I haven’t really ironed out all their lore 🏃‍♀️

▫️ Amarante Montandon’s father was a Hunter of the Association who went in for the Hunt but never returned home, had left her in the care of their close neighbor. Amie ran away and went looking for him but soon after stepping foot in the city of New Orleans she was snatched up and put on a train to the Bayou with a bunch of other orphans, where Sheriff Hardin was using them as fodder to cull the monster population with the promise of reward if they returned with trophies, only to then shoot them himself if they survived (x, x)

Amie was of the few that survived, both the monsters and Hardin, and ran back into the Bayou where she scrapped by on her own for a while, before she ran into Hardin again who after a standoff and a brief talk of the Association and her father he offered to make her his Deputy, which more out of necessity for survival more than anything, she accepted - while she doesn’t trust him nor like him, she has come to be one of the more reliable of the Lawful Pact in the Bayou

▫️The Tracker AKA Eleanor Callahan was from a family of Wolfers (wolf hunters) in Colorado where she was one of their best trackers even from an early age, until she got tired of that life and ran off. She quickly fell in with the bad sort, briefly joining various gangs and robbing and scamming people in the city. Eventually she wronged the wrong people, joined a gang only to run away with their stockpile of money which of course they did not take lightly and chased her down tirelessly - they caught up to her in the Bayou and beat her within an inch of her life, leaving her for dead.

She was left in an area affected by the Sculptor and in her death roes was attracted to one of the rifts which are “punctures between worlds”, she was subsequently healed by it to a degree but was left visually impaired, only being able to see a short distance in front of her in black and white but also being able to see other rifts a great distance away, a kin to the Dark Sight the Hunters use, though they were required to use a special serum to acquire that ability.

She was later found and picked up by Felis and the Bone Doctor, Hunters of the Primal Pact and she ended up joining them in the Hunt, putting her newfound ability and her knowledge as a tracker to use.

▫️ Devany Kesserly honestly has very little lore at the moment, all she has right now is that she was killed during the Hunt by being shot and then drowning in the swamp, she was revived via necromancy on the spot by a Hunter named Gar, who was part of the Drowned Pact, Hunters who had also drowned and were revived by the will of some witch - Devany not being revived by the witch herself did not become part of the Pact, but she did end up with the ability to heal when in contact with water, even heavy rain

She also knows Amarante in some way but haven’t decided how and why yet 🏃‍♀️💨

[edennill]

gaping dust (T, double drabble, Húrin)

The hand of Gothmog scorched his arm to blackness where it gripped him with strength that almost splintered bone. It would have been, Húrin thought, easier to drag him by the halter or fling him in a wagon where he might not still struggle against the foe, but the enemy relished his hurt. So he stumbled, through tear-streaked paths, and gritted teeth in silence.

He would not despair, he thought desperately, clinging to some shard of determination that was not hope. He had once spoken with a Man who later entered Angband of uncoerced will and walked out with his life. He'd convened with the Elf-lord of whom they whispered that he had been lost to death. He could stand the loss of a hand, he laughed silently and grimly —

But Húrin had no mighty friends and kin in the world, only an orphaned, widowed people of women and children somewhere on the far side of Beleriand, and the only thing he could hope for was strength ere he died. He prayed it wouldn't be too long, and that his father and mother, his brother, his daughter would be waiting, and that the foe would be vanquished by some other.

[megachaoticstupid]

All the things he hates

When i saw @wrathofrats's gifs where Alpha and Omega were kind to a kid in the venue, I blacked out and this fic happened. I haven't written in 6 years and English is not my firt language, so, please, don't mind mistakes or typos

Word count: 1108

He wasn’t sure when it all started, but, maybe, at the very, very beginning.

He always hated when human babies cried. They wailed like the loudest siren, demanding attention, crying because of the slightest changes in their small lives and roared when their parents left them. Especially orphans. They were constantly crying and calling for the parents they will never learn to know. And he always hated it. Kids in his pack back in hell never demanded attention, because they were always provided with that, but humans, even if they cared, couldn’t help these tiny humans, only able to cover their basic needs and provide only necessary nurture. Even in the satanic church. And the newest addition, only month old, was the loudest child he had ever heard. She cried day and night, asking for the bits of attention she could never receive in the fullest, she mourned the mother, who left her in childbirth and joined her Siblings under the Lucifer’s wing, and the father, who didn’t even know she existed. And, as Omega lived almost near the infirmary, he was going mad with her tiniest pleas until he finally snapped.  In a week he was going around the abbey, as if nothing happened, finally at peace and enjoying the quiet around him. And, just like his mother did to him in his short-lived youth, he was carrying her in a bundle of cute rose-pink covers, gently nestling her in the curve of his tail.

He hated, how tiny and fragile she was, especially compared to him. Even though he knew, that amongst his kin he was considered a giant, he couldn’t help himself to be in awe at her tiny frame, making him scared to ever hurt her. And, on the contrary, she was never scared of any scratches, learning how to walk early enough for him not to babyproof Alpha’s and his quarters in time. He couldn’t even count how many times he had to kiss her boo-boos and wipe away her tears, and how many times he felt the dread when she began to fall down after a rather unsteady step.

He hated that his duty required from him to leave her with other ghouls, when he was touring with Papas. He just hated to miss out on her every achievement, her any sorrow and happiness. He had already missed her first steps and was losing more precious moments with her. Even if they sent him and Alpha all of the photos and videos, it was never enough. They missed her too much to be satiated with these tributes of their daughter. And he was always scared, that if they tour too long, she will not recognize them after a while.

He always grumbled how he hates bright colours and never agreed to put in their bedroom anything too flashy. But now, as she learned how to hold a pencil, their walls, the fridge, the nightstand - almost every surface is littered with her drawings and he lookes at them every night before they all go to bed. Bright colours no longer irritate his eyes, they soothed him, reminding him of every single moment he and his husband spend with her. He likes the little stories she puts in them, he liked the shapes her childish mind invented and he couldn’t help but laugh at some of the pictures of him, Alpha and any of Papas she made. They looked almost like a caricature, sometimes highlighting their shortcomings in such a funny way, that he always fought a fit of laughter when she showed him them. His favourite were: Alpha without his mouth, because he had scolded her a night before for eating too many candies, Papa Emeterius III performing a silly dance with the biggest smile known to mankind, him, looking like a building next to every ghoul in the picture. These ones he carried in his wallet until they were too worn out.

He hated to worry about raising her into a decent adult, waiting for her to start speaking, bringing her to various doctors the Ministry could provide. Trying all of the recipes books and hacks to help her to start talking. He blamed himself for not being a good father, for always being absent on tours and not doing well enough for her. Never doing well enough for her. Even Alpha couldn’t help to ease his worries, to soothe his worrying soul, while they tried every speech therapist they knew. And through all of these worrying visits, the source of his worries was sitting on his shoulders, pulling on his horns and giggling. The first time he heard her say the first word, he was heartbroken, talking to her via phone and being miles and miles away from her. But at least he was there for her thousands of “Daddy’s” after that.

He hated her tears when she was ill and trembling from fever and exhaustion. He couldn’t help but feel helpless, when she looked at him, pale, weak, tearing and sobbing, while doctor checked her. He felt helpless, when she refused to eat even a light soup, made for her by loving hands of someone from the pack. And he agreed to her every whim just to make her feel better, loved and cared for. These days they never left her side, too doting and scared for her health to even think about it, watching with their daughter her favourite cartoons and persuading her to eat anything.

He hated her fear of the dark and how she woke them up in the middle of the night, crying and trembling, climbing in their bed to guard herself from the imaginary monsters with the love of literal monsters of hell. Even if they found it amusing, they never told her, welcoming her in their arms and whispering reassurances that they will always protect her from any monsters.

He just hated to miss her so much, when every child in the venue reminded him of her. He hated to be apart from his daughter, always worrying for her health and well-being. He just hated to leave their home and leave her. And most of all, he hated to beg the Ministry to let Alpha and him to retire. Even if Terzo agreed immediately, the Ministry didn’t want to budge that easily. But, after all of the turmoil, bickering and arguments, they were finally allowed to rest, to spend the much-needed time with her. And he never regretted this decision, because for all of the things he hated there were a thousand more things he loved.

[tathrin]

Hi! Can you talk about the 'Thranduil: A Crown of Silver and Blood' WIP, please?

Certainly! Thank you. So it's actually the same concept that @babybat98 talked about in their post here, about Thranduil being crowned during the Last Alliance after Oropher's doomed charge, and I only have a little bit more of mine than they do of theirs but I'll give you what I have got so far:

Thranduil had never been meant to be a king.

He knelt on the battlefield, knees stained with blood and mud, and oh! how his heart longed for his forest. How his heart longed for his fathers. The first lost so many years ago in the ruin of Doriath and mourned forever; the second a grief too new and raw to yet be understood. None of them had ever been meant to be kings.

Greenwood had had no king when Thranduil and his father arrived with a handful of refugees from Doriath; kings and lords and court were not things the Silvan elves who lived in that great forest had ever bothered to establish. They needed no kings, no lords. They lived a simpler, purer elven life; free of the influence of the Valar and their wars. But war had come to all of Middle-earth, and the Greenwood had chosen to stand with their distant brethren against the Shadow.

Their Sindar asylees had warned their Silvan fellows, when they prepared to march off and join the war, that without a king the High Elves and the Gondorians would look down on the people of the Greenwood; and so they had crowned one, and sent Oropher before the lords of Elves and Men to stand for the woods and the Wood-elves. Lórien had added their banner and force to the Greenwood, rather than pledging allegiance to Gil-galad; the Wood-elves of neither forest were keen to bend the knee to a Noldor. They would fight with them, and with the Men who stood beside them; they would not be ruled by either.

And thus they had chosen a king, so that the noble lords of the Alliance would not discount the Wood-elves' strength, their value and their valor; so that they would look on them not as an uncivilized rabble to be commanded, but rather as equals to respect and fight beside.

Still they had not been seen as equals; still they had been left to fight alone.

And now their king was dead, and so many of their people that Thranduil could not yet bear to count them. Oropher and Amdír both were dead, and more than half their people with them. His fathers were both dead now, and Thranduil knelt in the mud, orphaned and alone.

Tiraran stood before him, his face impassive and his eyes streaming with hurt. He held the thin crown of Greenwood in his one good hand; the other, rotting from both orc-poison and the Black Breath of the Nazgûl he had so bravely stood against, was bound tight against his chest.

It was that wound that had spared him from the dreadful charge across the Dagorlad, that wound which had saved his life when so many of his kin had perished; confined to the Healing Tents, he had not been allowed to join his friend and kin upon that killing field. He should have been there still, but he was as stubborn as any elf of Greenwood; he had demanded to be brought to the field, and he stood now on shaking legs before his dear, dead friend's son and offered him their simple silver crown.

Talk about how that wound is what kept Tirarn from the battle; what kept him alive, when almost all the forces of Greenwood and Lórien alike now lay dead upon this killing field, slain by Sauron's dark minions and by the pride of their allies who proclaimed themselves the leaders of his ill-begotten Alliance. Thranduil knows that Tiraran, too, is wondering if things would have been different if he had not been lying in the Houses of Healing—where he should be, still; but he bade himself be carried to the battlefield for this, and stood now upon trembling legs to crown his king, his dear dead friend's son. If he had been there at the side of Oropher and [LÓRIEN DUDE], would it have made a difference? Would his quiet sense and patience have been enough to quench the blaze of Sindar pride in the face of Noldor ego? Would he have been able to keep his own patience, and argue against the charge? Would he have been able to talk them out of it? If he had been beside his friend, would all those Wood-elves yet live?

Thranduil bowed his head and Tiraran placed the crown upon his head.

It was a thin band of braided silver, three pale moonstones across the brow; three white gems, his father had laughed when he had had it made, to mock the Noldor who had brought this war to them and were too proud to accept the fault of it. The bitter looks of the High Elves who saw the crown, and understood the dark jest behind its design, had set a grim smile on Oropher's face as he walked among them.

But Oropher would walk no more, and now the crown rested on Thranduil's head. It sat there like a brand, burning; he almost fancied that he could smell the smoke of its deadly touch upon his hair, but that was fanciful illusion. The crown did not scorch him, for all that it seemed it should; and here in Mordor, there was naught to smell but blood and the filth of the great Shadow.

Thranduil rose. The crown was light, a thin band; pretty enough in its design, but cheap and plain; hardly a crown by the standards of the Noldor. Thranduil lifted his head. He would bear it proudly nonetheless.

The crown was heavy; it seemed to press him deep into the mud. The crown was heavy, like the unbearable weight of grief; heavy, like his breaking heart.

. . . .

Upon returning to Greenwood, Thranduil will throw the crown away, never wanting to wear the horrible thing again. He is no longer a king; Greenwood no longer needs a king, so neither he nor his forest have need any longer for the torture of a crown. 

When Tarlas gently points out, later, that he's going to need a crown if he's going to act as king for them in matters dealing with the wider world, Thranduil will snarl and refuse to ever touch the thing again. He is a Wood-elf king of a Woodland realm, is he not? Then let him crown himself with leaves and flowers; let him crown himself with his own forest, if he is to be the king of it.

Children—for there were many children born in the years of light after Sauron's fall, and the much-diminished trees rang, briefly, with the silver song of their laughter; Rilaerloth has many friends, when she is young, although she is one of the eldest of them and accepts the role of leader in a big sisterly fashion, just as her father finds himself quickly deemed father to the whole forest. Children braid him flower crowns out of joy, after they see him wearing them when he returns from or finishes speaking with some outside ambassador; it becomes a favorite pastime of the children, and they compete with one another to craft the best, and even make a game of trying to snatch away the crown someone else gave him so that he will wear theirs instead. Thranduil laughs at this, and is glad of it, and ignores the sidelong looks of outsiders at both the game and the lack of jewels and finery upon his brow.. He is a woodland king; the woodland, thus, shall be his crown.

And the children are so happy.

[britysia]

You remember that thanks to the ritual that took place in the fourth year, Harry and Voldemort share the same blood? I'll skip the ridiculous part where Harry Potter returned to the Dursleys every summer for bloody wards that technically shouldn't work because Voldemort might touch him. Hmm-hmm, so those who have read “The Cursed Child” should know about Delphi. Delphi is the daughter of Voldemort and Bellatrix. But if Voldemort and Harry Potter share the same blood, then doesn't that mean that Delphi is also Harry's daughter? I don't know, but that's what the AU is all about. Since Voldemort and Harry have the same blood, as well as a soul (at the time of conception, Harry was a Horcrux. Poor Harry, if he felt Voldemort’s anger, then he probably could have had an orgasm... Poor guy) , then Delphi is his daughter. After the victory over Voldemort, raids began on the estates of the victims, in one of which a girl was found. The Aurors were trying to find out who the girl's parents were to pass on to the next of kin, causing the inheritance test to display the name Harry. Since the child was born under unusual circumstances, he is offered to give up the child, but, being a lonely orphan who always wanted a family, he decides to adopt the girl by blood so that she becomes a full member of the Potter family. (Depending on your choice, Sirius could have adopted Harry by blood. Maybe the blood will fix his nest on his head). So he lives with his daughter in Grimmauld Place. He studies the Black library, deals with artifacts and leads a reclusive lifestyle. He's not dating Ginny because the choice was between a relationship and a child (understandable considering WHO the child's other parents are. She's also supposed to look like Tom Riddle, but with Harry's green eyes. It doesn't matter if she was born with those eyes , or they appeared after blood adoption). After some time, say 5 years, he decides to go out with his daughter, but someone leaks information about her origin, and the public demands the death of Voldemort’s offspring. So Harry Potter escapes from Britain and travels for a year or two. Although he likes to explore the world, because of his pursuers he cannot settle anywhere, which makes him sad, because he wants to give his daughter a HOME.So, he decides to go to a place where no one will know or touch them - the past. He might have stumbled upon (developed) a ritual (artifact) that would send them back in time. Thus, they find themselves in the 50s, where they try to organize their lives. Variant of events:

1. Harry Potter inherits the Peverell Lordship and lives a quiet life until his daughter turns eleven and goes to Hogwarts, after which Tom Riddle is reported about a child similar to him, who, as a result of an incident, is revealed to be a Parselmouth. He is very interested in the supposed new heir, and then in his very handsome father. And further as you wish. It's a funny life as Tom tries to catch Harry's attention after a meeting in the Wizengamot (since he accepted the Lordship, he intends to make the Wizarding British government better. Considering that his daughter has started school, he has time to do this, because he used to be too busy).

2. Harry Potter does not have any lordships, but he has money. He opens a cafe (I believe Harry Potter is a good cook) in Diagon Alley. One day he let his daughter go with her friends, but they were kidnapped. The auction featured many creatures, as well as children. The Death Eaters were about to raid this place, as the place belonged to a hostile group. Harry Potter found out that his daughter was missing and rushed in. Tom, seeing him, asks one of the followers who it is, but no one knows. Tom continues to watch the delightful stranger and admires his magic. Hearing a scream, they see a group of children behind the Horned Snake, which has escaped from its cage. The snake is about to attack, but freezes when it hears the girl's hiss. In one second, the snake turns around and swallows the overseer. Tom, surprised, looks at the baby Parselmouth, who is essentially a small female version of himself, except for the eyes. Eyes the color of a killing curse to match those of a handsome stranger. This story is the beginning of a strange relationship between the Dark Lord and a small family of time travelers. I hope someone takes advantage of this idea and writes fanfiction.

[twotreeisland]

Generation One Allegiances

(wip!)

Some notes before the actual list!

- The ragtag Two Tree Island Community functions under a Duty system. Every cat chooses what Duty to dedicate themself to (with an option to change if okayed by both Duty Heads) and listens solely to the Duty Head of that fourth of the island. The duties are Protection, Prey, Shelter, and Medicine.

- The four Duty Heads act as a kind of council and decide any major changes for the community together.

- There is no method of succession, as the system has only been in place for around 40 moons and it's still developing every day. The founders did not plan this system thoroughly before enacting it.

- The current Duty Heads all got their position in a different way than the others, and these methods will be listed below the character profile.

- Apprentices are trained by the whole Duty, though the exact expectations put on them are decided by their Duty Head.

- While cats are not forced to take on clan-like titles, these titles are offered by their Duty Heads. Kittens are given their prefix by their parents, and the suffix by whatever Duty Head they pledge themselves to when they become a full Duty member.

PROTECTION DUTY HEAD --

Gentlestep -- He/she/they, genderfluid -- 148 Moons

A massive dilute calico with obscured features due to their immense and thick fur. Rumor is their eyes are blue, but who knows?

The most the community knows about Gentlestep is that they're one of the few cats to have arrived with a "clan title" already. The rest is generally fuzzy, like Gentlestep. She's about the kindest cat on the island, doing the utmost for each and every cat, not just those in his Duty. Whenever an orphan shows up cold and shaking, Gentlestep is the cat they're brought to so he can snuggle them up in her massive mane of fur and whisper to them that it'll all be alright. As the oldest cat in the Community, many questions are posed to them that she answers simply. The Community greatly values his wisdom. None have yet to see them engage in battle, but given their position the Community feels it imminent and the gossip-gatos are hungry for the knowledge. She became the Duty Head when cats realized his orders were incredibly helpful in battle against various other carnivores, so her Duty came together to demand they lead. So she did.

The adopted parent of Whisperpaw,

PREY DUTY HEAD --

Smoothriver -- They/them, nonbinary -- 73 Moons

A very handsome young jack with thin, glossy black tuxedo fur and shiny amber eyes.

This cocky young jack strolled onto the island with a purr in their throat and a stoat in their jaws. The first impression was damn good, and their skills at getting exactly what they wanted from cats was unparalleled. While the oldest of cats felt some general distaste for what they saw as an egotistical youngster, the younger cats of Two Tree adored kindly, showy ol' Smoothriver. Smoothriver has three mates at the moment, but with how much they flirt and cavort with any pretty kitty that walks their way, folks are taking bets on when that number will rise. They named themself leader of the Prey Duty on a whim, and given they are actually an amazing hunter, cats agreed to follow them.

SHELTER DUTY HEAD --

Heavyclaw -- He/him, cis male -- 117 Moons

A primarily gray long-furred tom with large paws and large ears. Has soft gray eyes.

Some call Heavyclaw "painfully simple", but really, he's just an older man with some real simple dreams. He wants his kin and his cats safe, and he wants people to leave him alone. He likes keeping it simple, which reflects in how he keeps the camp and teaches his cats. He may butt heads with the other Duty Heads and anyone who brings that Starclan and Spirits bullshit up with him, but he is a good cat at the end of the day who keeps the community's home safe, clean, and easy to live in. He leaves for a full day every full moon to do Starclan knows what. Nobody asks, given Heavyclaw might cuff their ear good for being so nosy. Heavyclaw established himself as the cat to go to about the camp's upkeep, and simply started acting as Duty Head without any formal declaration.

MEDICINE DUTY HEAD --

Dahliabriar -- She/her, cis female -- 98 Moons

An orange, spotted molly with various deep scars, tired pale green eyes, and a single white paw.

The cat who lived on Two Tree before anyone else. As cats began appearing, oftentimes weak from days of travel, she healed them and found them places to rest on the island. Though unintentional on her part, Dahliabriar is a major reason the Duties came together at all. As the community's ranks bolstered over the next moons, Dahlia began teaching anyone who would ask it of her to heal like she does, accidentally creating the first Duty by gathering these apprentices together. Though unlike the other Duty Heads who claimed and established their duties officially, Dahliabriar refused to be named leader of her Duty until she truly could not deny it anymore.

Dahliabriar is the single mother of Snapdragonstrike, Rosefall, Tuliptwist, and Lilymoon by an unknown cat.

CAMP GUARDS --

Snapdragonstrike -- He/him, cis male -- 38 Moons

PREY HUNTERS --

Lilymoon -- She/her, trans female -- 38 Moons

CAMP KEEPERS --

Rosefall -- She/her, cis female -- 38 Moons

HERB GATHERERS --

Tuliptwist -- She/they, demifemale -- 38 Moons

Whisperpaw -- She/her, cis female -- 9 Moons

ELDERS --

QUEENS AND KITS --

[wispstalk]

hunger

credit to @jiubilant for this excellent post which I used for the ritual aspects here

--

Yenabi din-Amme communes quietly with her cardehn until the Commander’s son slumps over in her lap. He scowls, even as he dreams. She saved her prayers for this moment; had been counting on his falling asleep. Sitting vigil bores him.

She brings him because she likes his company, likes running her fingers through his close-shorn hair as she turns the fingerbones over in her other hand. When she explained, the first time, that the door kept her connected to her kin, he glanced back at the Commander’s tent, and said, What for?

Away from the great camps of the Zainab, her waiting door is paltry and multipurpose. Cookfire for her stew pot and calcinator, light to work by night, gateway to the beyond. Her offerings lie on unconsecrated ground, and instead of great ponderous strings of fingerbones she has only three: her grandmother’s, which she brought with her to the Rootless band, and those of her brother and cousin, who brought her.

She crushes a coal between her fingers and smudges the fine black grit on the boy’s forehead. He stirs, grunts, paws at his face, but he does not wake.

You wish to claim her? comes the voice of gaha Mamea, her cardehn.

“Him,” she corrects gently. He is often taken for a boy, and he seems to prefer it that way. “What kind of man he will be, I don’t know. An ingrate, like.”

She feels the ripple of all her ancestors’ laughter around her, like the crackling of resinous twigs, for all understand that it is the business of the living to be ingrates.

Yena hopes, of course, that he will be a healer. It’s extraordinary, the crackle of magic in this little form, the quickness with which he learns her arts. He sets to any practice like a starveling to a feast.

But there is much to learn in a mercenary camp, and she is not his only teacher. That sword, so big he straps it to his back to keep it from dragging in the ash, lies just beyond the firelight in a clump of scrub grass. He will not be without it.

It is not for her to decide. But she can hope.

He is no orphan, observes her brother.

If she were bolder, he would be. She traces the fresh scar, the Commander’s work, where it mars his cheek. “Times and times I’ve told you, you’ll get no niece or nephew out of me.”

Warmth on her skin, wordless and fond. Quarrels have a way of passing through the waiting door as toothless as the ones who once fed them.

“Just watch him, I ask you. If not you, then another. Have we many kin to share.”

The fire gutters like a creature stirring, and the air swirls thick around her, and she closes her eyes and feels them— all their countless numbers— curious and proud and fretful, pressing in close for a glimpse through the flickering light. They will not turn him away, she knows. The dead are ravenous for the living.

Yena fishes into her hip pouch for a pot of corkbulb salve and a suture needle, to numb and prick his finger. She takes the bead of blood onto her thumb, carefully, like a precious jewel. Licks it clean. Now he is as much a part of her as any of them.

“Tanis,” she whispers into the fire, and all the voices echo his name in welcome.

[knarme-art]

Public note to self about ALL my Avatar OCs and fanclans...

So one day I might remember to make proper infoshits on them lmao.

Recoms

Esko Ilves - ...Medic and a kind of a badly turned out specimen whose life starts as being locked-up in a confused identity state. Currently a complete mess with the lore. Despite stereotypical masc Finnish old dude name has fat boobs and kinda destroys gender by existing.

Vilhelmi - Finnish-American army grunt who worships and respects nothing else than power. Sour-faced joyless bitch who's a bully whenever he can. Hates happy people. Straight. Simps for scary people. The kind of person whose insecurity is taken on absolutely everyone around him in the most destructive ways possible if he's given authority to do so.

Metkayina

Currently unnamed massive dude - Is actually a masc agender fella who uses masc terms etc. but doesn't actually "feel male" (let alone anything else..). He's gigantic and... Hear me out... He literally kins water, like he doesn't identify with na'vi shape or physique at all. If he was on Tumblr he'd say he's xenogender with an ocean-adjacent gender and that he's... Water but in human form. He's truly an odd one, has a rep as a mighty strong warrior but kind of... Likes to stick to his own company. I think he grew up orphaned and severely neglected, or maybe he's just born that way...? I can't be sure! He hunts RDA as almost like a sport and he's feared like an akula!!

Arctic Na'vi

Arctic Ocean People

These are chunky fellas that are even more extremely aquatic-adapted than Reef Na'vi are. There is mostly just barren tundra or ice for land near them so most of their materials are harvested from their oceanic prey.

One of my fanclans is of these Ocean people...

Ice Pirate - (waiting for proper naming) He is literally a pirate because land dwellers with their ships rob his waters of prey and kill his people too.. So he rides Space!Orcas with his chums to go rob those ships back!

Arctic Land People

Short subspecies of Na'vi who are fuzzier relatives of the rainforest Na'vi. They're very widespread in arctic and subarctic lands of Pandora, and many regional variants have a lot of different colorations going on etc.

I have like three different fanclans of these I've thought about.

The Ship Clan - These are the nemesis of Ice Pirate and his people. This clan is unusually dystopian by na'vi standards, since they're sort of colonizers. They have ships. They sail them ships to places and take stuff.

-> I've got one OC draft who's basically a captain of one of these thieving ships and a personal old nemesis of Ice Pirate

The Silver Fur Clan - These are based on a single painting of mine and an associated headcanon. So far I only know a lot of them became refugees because of something that is going on with their home. They have black and silver or gray hair.

The Ochre Fur Clan - Arctic land dwellers who live someplace remote and isolated. Also based on my headcanon of those same paintings I did. They have curly light-brownish-gray hair.

A little storylet with the two previous clans...

Two women from both of these clans get to know each other due to the displacement of the Silver Furs. The Ochre one comes to love and care for the Silver one deeply, but feels like she can't quite reach her the way she'd like to, - due to the events affecting the Silver one having changed her life in ways the Ochre one has never had to navigate. A gap in being able to relate. My headcanons of these two are very... Slice of life. Displaced person adjusts to new life. Another person learns to know her, but learns on the way that there are nightmares bigger than she can ever do anything about. Two people learning to live in an unpredictable world but also with their own differences. Etc. Especially Ochre one is a chronic "fixer", unknowingly ignoring her own obvious problems to be "helpful" and a lot of the time the result is... All but helpful. In this story everyone's mental health is in shambles. Road to shittyplace (since Na'vi don't know Hell) is paved with Good Intentions, right?

....

Now that's all about the Arctic. Moving on!

....

Subarctic Lake Dwellers!

A. k. a. my self-insert pseudo-ancient-Baltic-Finnic-influenced Na'vi. These are actually a hybrid population between Arctic Ocean and Arctic Land Na'vi (mirroring the Finno-Ugrian North Asian and Nortwestern European mixed ancestry). They live in a boreal taiga style forested biome with a gigantic fuckton of lakes. Oh no, I wonder if a Finn made this... THERE ARE SO MANY LAKES.

I only have like one OC draft for these guys and he's just... Well.. Basically my fursona Kalamit in Na'vi form. Pompous hedonistic but generous fisherman (*in transmasc butch lesbian sense) who takes great pride in all he can do for ya babeyy. His magnificent bastard energy is unmatched because he's like pure life energy kinda like Kalamit, my sona, thematically is.

No story going on in here. Na'vi!Kalamit is possibly meant to be simply an RP character to craft stories with...

....

Kxayltirey Nation

...A. k. a. my most ambitious fanclan and the only one I've properly named so far. This is the one with a fuckton of historical and societal worldbuilding attached. Dystopian situation where a past occupation materially vanished, yet stayed in the minds and ways of the people, severing their connection to Eywa.

Class & ecology issues and dystopian angst of people who are born not knowing why their society teaches self-hate and acceptance of authority figures that have the most impressive gaslighting game ever.

Kxayltirey lore is so expansive that it'll need its own posts. Gonna go over some Kxayl OCs of mine...

Kxasi - Young hunter from Kxaylian outskirts. Everyone is disappearing from his village to pursue a life in the central plateau, - the hegemonious hub of the Kxayl society, so Kxasi follows the path of what makes one a well-accomplished one. Kxasi's whole identity revolves around succeeding in the hierarchy, and he is churned into a full existential crisis when gaining a disability that makes flying an ikran impossible. MORE STORY IS OUT THERE BUT IT'S VERY LONG, SORRY CHUMS. <\3

Commander - Trust me bro, he has an actual name too. One of those "air force commanders" of the Kxayl, but reduced to a humiliating job of training n00bs. Takes a mutual curiosity in Kxasi, who is also from the Outskirts. Both had to fight hard for their position, and neither is well-versed in Plateau social etiquette, and they share old cultural practices that still thrive in the Outskirts, and that have become taboo and disappeared in the central plateau. Commander/Kxasi is a canon ship and they are Toxic Yuri. <3 (how toxic, depends on the verse... )

Kxasi's little bro - Tallest person in his family. Really genuine and nice fella but also will hold his ground. Kxasi is reminded of the goodness of people by his brother.

Kxasi's father - Very knowledgeable hunter of the foresty lower plateau cliffs. Has his ancestry in the now-secluded Gorge Forest part of Kxayl society, so he is a knower of ancient ways. He's plural. Generational trauma because of past conflicts is strong here. Him and Kxasi resemble one another deeply.

Kxasi's mother - ...Is from the Plateau. Knows Kxasi's weaker side and feels protective of it.

Kxasi has two uncles and two aunts. But I'm tired of typing.

......

(REMINDER TO WRITE ABOUT THOSE "MISSING LINK SPECIES" THAT ARE TO NA'VI WHAT OTHER HOMININS ARE TO HUMANS, BUT WEIRDER AND MORE EXPANSIVE)

[thenightling]

I never had any children but here are some of my favorite baby names I've come across and considered for if I ever had a child.

Traditionally masculine:

Roderick - Can be shortened to Roddy, Rick, or Ricky. Roderick means Glory or Ruler. Roddy McDowall's full first name. Also the name of one of the main characters from Edgar Allan Poe's Fall of the House of Usher. Roderick is also the name of the man who summoned and trapped Morpheus in the first issue / chapter / episode of Neil Gaiman's The Sandman. And a more obscure reference, Roderick is the name of Dr. Craven's father in the 1963 film, The Raven, starring Vincent Price. I would use this as a "King" name. ;-)

Jareth - A combination of Jerold and Gareth. David Bowie's character's name in Labyrinth.

Pipkin - An unrecorded Middle English name, possibly derived from Phillip. It is also the surname of one of the main characters in Ray Bradbury's The Halloween tree. Ray Bradbury used it as a cross between Pip, the hero from Charles Dickens' Great Expectations, and Pumpkin. Kin also means family. So you are saying "Pip is family." which is very sweet if you know the plot of The Halloween Tree. Kin can also mean "To be like" or "connected to." So the name (in reference to Great Expectations) also means "Like Pip."

Percy or Percival - One of King Arthur's knights, Percival, and the famous poet, Percy Shelley, husband of Mary Shelley (author of Frankenstein.)

Kit - Very old nickname for Christopher. Once was the nickname of the writer, Christopher Marlowe. Now heavily associated with the actor Kit Harington from Game of Thrones.

Jaskier - Polish. Actually means "Buttercup" but actually is considered a boy's name. Pronounced as Yas-key-er. The original Polish name of the bard from The Witcher novels. HIs name is sometimes translated to Dandelion in some of the English adaptations.

Vladislaus - I'd probably never really use this name except in absolutely very specific circumstances. This name comes from an early renaissance war hero and Prince of Eastern Europe. Vladislaus the Third of Wallachia.

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Gender-free names that I like.

Loki - Means Mischief Maker. From the Norse God of Mischief, Fire, and invention. (and sometimes also ice). Marvel depicts him now as God of Stories which fits his mythological roots as God of Invention. In the Poetic and Prose Eddas Loki invented fishing nets. Loki is also the patron of orphans and outcasts, a sympathizer of the outsider. In mythology Loki can be any gender and in Marvel Loki has been portrayed by a man and a woman.

Rowan - The Rowan plant is supposed to be good luck and a pentacle made of Rowman and tied at the points with red string or ribbon protects against black magick.

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Traditionally feminine:

Gretchen - Old Germain Nickname for Marguerite and similar names. Marguerite was my mother's name, Rita being her nickname.

Gretchen was also the love interest in Goethe's Faust and ultimately saved his soul in Faust Part 2.

Jessamy - can be shortened to Jess or Jesse or even sometimes May. It's similar to Jessica but derives out of Jasmine.

Evie - Eve was (according to the Abrahamic mythos) the first woman. Evie is also short for "evening." Evie was the name of the hero in the 2022 film The invitation. It can also be short for Evelyn but I prefer Evie to Evelyn.

Shelley - Traditional girl's name and the married name of author Mary Shelley, writer of Frankenstein. Also the surname of the poet Percy Shelley.

Wilhelmina - The old version of Wima. Can have the nickname Mina or Will. And I think Will is a cute nickname for a girl ever since I heard the song "The Will to love" from W.I.T.C.H. ________________________________ Twin names: Masculine Twins: Jareth and Geralt. Geralt is the first hero of The Witcher novels. _________________________ Feminine Twin names: Gretchen and Jessamy _______________________ Masculine / feminine twin names: Percy and Shelley for the pun in creating the name Percy Shelley (the nineteenth century poet and husband of Mary Shelley, author of Frankenstein). ___________________________ Gender-free: Loki and Rowan