Divine Things - Blog Posts

Mostly sensations and images. I can remember some of the words spoken to me, but I can't fully remember the voices

It changed as I went from one phase of my life to the other. As a Deity I had tanned skin; golden eyes; wavy dark hair, and black wings. I often wore a heavy cloak with furs, wherever I went.

The Hearth and Home

I had my share of followers, yes. It was... Warm. I was grateful for each and every one of them, and loved them dearly.

I currently work with the Nordic Pantheon: in part due to the familiarity.

Anything involving fire and runes resonate strongly with me.

I believe I was considered benevolent, and I very much was.

They are my equals, and I want nothing but the best for them as a whole.

I'm not sure, actually. From what I remember... I suppose one could describe it as a familiar presence? I don't think they could ever see me, but many seemed to be able to feel when I was around. If candles were lit, their flames would lean in my direction- I remember that.

I did blessings, yes. Though those were to keep my followers' homes sturdy and warm, things of that nature. I couldn't do anything to/for them, directly.

Reveared is such a strong word, haha... I was definitely not feared, however.

Hmm, I'm not quite sure.

Large-scale? Oh, I'm not sure... Same things they'd leave on the altars in their homes, I'd assume. Homemade foods, comforting objects, crafted pieces, candles, crow feathers, etc.

I'd never demand anything- but anything the follower made, gathered, or owned that brought a sense of nostalgia or comfort would do nicely. Green candles and crow feathers would also be very nice

Probably the forest, and the coziest corner in their home.

(See 9)

I had one friend of mine, more beloved than anyone else in any realm... Trying to label them and us in any way would fall short, I fear. They were my Dearest One- the one who's old domain I was gifted, and the one who showed me everything my Creator had kept hidden.

(See 2)

I do, yes. I still feel as though I must provide those protections and comforts for those that I can. It makes me feel the same as it did, back then.

The Gods of my pantheon had their own realm, yes. As did my Creator. I, in turn, also resided in these realms.

Deitykin/Godkin Question List ᯓ★

Do you have memories of being a deity? If so, what are they like?

Do you remember what your divine form looked like? If so, describe it!

Did you have a specific domain or aspect you ruled over (e.g., love, war, nature)?

Did mortals or other beings worship you? How does that memory feel?

Do you feel a connection to specific myths, cultures, or religions in this life?

Are there particular symbols, rituals, or practices that resonate with you as a deitykin?

Were you considered benevolent, neutral, or malevolent in your divine role?

How do you view mortals and humanity now compared to your past divine role?

Did you have a specific way of manifesting to mortals, such as dreams, visions, or physical apparitions?

Did you grant blessings, curses, or other forms of divine influence?

Were you revered or feared more than loved by mortals?

What song do you associate with yourself?

If you had a shrine today and were worshipped on a large-scale level, what items would people leave as offerings?

What offerings would you demand in today’s world?

What place would mortals associate with you (e.g., beaches, forests, mountains)?

Did you have a specific way of manifesting to mortals, such as dreams, visions, or physical apparitions?

Did you have relationships with other deities, mortals, or beings?

Do you remember what your divine form looked like?

Do you feel like you still have a purpose or role tied to your divine identity?

Did you reside in a specific realm or plane of existence as a deity?

These questions were inspired by @/courtroom-confession. Feel free to reblog and share your own questions, I encourage you to do so as I am curious as well.

I am also always open to answer any questions to those who seek knowledge, my friend, as I am open to all that you wish to know.

Had a dream of an old woman. Her home was dark and made of wood, and the air was full of the smell of rain. She had white hair, and the wrinkles on her face danced as she smiled her millionth smile, looking at me with soft eyes. As if we were old friends, reminiscing on older times. She hands me a well-loved child's toy. Nothing fancy, nothing flashy or intricate. It was a simple doll, made of old simple fabric, with a kind simple expression. Its hair was made of yarn, and it was small in her thin hands, which had held countless other things. But those hands held this doll so preciously, so gently- like a young babe; precious, and loved with the full capacity of the human heart. And she hands it to me. Places it gently in my hands, saying not a word, that expression unwavering. She was showing it to me, sharing the decades of memories and love stored inside every fraying thread.

The fire is a comfortable warmth for the woman, despite her gentle body being easily chilled. The rain thudded against the old wood of her home, which gave it's life for her to continue her own- and, in a way, she gave it a new one. A life it would've never known otherwise. And so they took care of each other. And I took care of them.

She calls me a strange name, one of the many I've been called- one of the many that had been forgotten as generations had come and gone. I say her name in a tongue I do not recognize, though it passes by my lips easily. It is not the first, nor the last time I have said this name. I am one of the few who remembers it.

I gently put the doll among the other things she has given to me over the years, all holding an amount of love only a human could carry, and I cherish them all. She lights candles that she made herself, dyed green for the forest I so dearly love. I stare at them a while, watching the flames flicker gently, tilted slightly in my direction.

As I look around the home, tend to the fire and make sure the home is steady, the woman sits in the chair her son made for her, gazing out at the rain. We both know this will be her last storm, and so I do not bother her. Only keep my presence nearby. She may take her time, enjoy the world a few moments longer. Enjoy the world for as many moments as she may wish.

I held her hand and shared with her memories of when she was young. Of when she first said my name, and when she first offered me a little flower crown she made, to her mother's delight. I shared with her memories of her children, and her children's children- and of the children who've yet to come. Her family is all in good health, and happy.

She hopes, with a smile, that her passing does not interrupt that.

It will, but only for a moment. They will learn to be happy, because she would want them to be. And so they will, and they will do so with all their hearts. She will remind them just how important happiness is.

She rests, then. And I stay until the candles' flame dies out one last time.

🖤 Welcome to my Deity kinblog 🖤

My identity as a Deity is not as straightforward as some: I was once an Angel. I fell. Or, as I prefer to say, dropped. And then when my Domain was gifted to me, I became a Deity.

There is much that I am still remembering, so as time goes on some details may change; but these are absolute.

I am not searching for followers.

As much as I do truly miss that connection, and my humble purpose, there is no way to recreate that. I am of mortal flesh and capability: I cannot, and will not, be your God. I have, and will continue to, talk about having a similar dynamic with my Beloved. However, this is something that developed after knowing each other for a long while, and with the knowledge that we are of the same flesh and ability. Please do not take that as invitation. It is not.

Offerings and communication of casual and friendly intent are acceptable, but please- no worship. Only those significantly close to me would ever be considered safe to do so.

🖤 About Myself 🖤

• 22 years old

• He/They pronouns

• Masc-aligned

• Pagan (Norse/Celtic)

🖤 About This Kin 🖤

• Deity of the Hearth and Home

• Appearance: Black hair, veil that covers my lower face, gold eyes, black wings. I usually wore/was depicted in a black cloak with a fur-lined hood, with an opening in the back for my wings.

• Associations: Homely Comforts, Fires (specifically campfires or those in fireplaces), Crows.

• My Creator and Pantheon are not of this world/universe/etc. They have their similarities, but are not 1:1 equivalents. Please do not refer to them as such.

🖤 Misc 🖤

My DMs and inbox are always open, though I ask that DMs are for those bodily 18+ considering my own age. Other godkin/Deitykin/fallen/angelkin/divinekin/etc are always welcome, and I would be very happy to hear from you.

basic DNI applies: this is a safe space, and I will not tolerate bigotry, hate, or Idiocracy.

Had a dream of an old woman. Her home was dark and made of wood, and the air was full of the smell of rain. She had white hair, and the wrinkles on her face danced as she smiled her millionth smile, looking at me with soft eyes. As if we were old friends, reminiscing on older times. She hands me a well-loved child's toy. Nothing fancy, nothing flashy or intricate. It was a simple doll, made of old simple fabric, with a kind simple expression. Its hair was made of yarn, and it was small in her thin hands, which had held countless other things. But those hands held this doll so preciously, so gently- like a young babe; precious, and loved with the full capacity of the human heart. And she hands it to me. Places it gently in my hands, saying not a word, that expression unwavering. She was showing it to me, sharing the decades of memories and love stored inside every fraying thread.

The fire is a comfortable warmth for the woman, despite her gentle body being easily chilled. The rain thudded against the old wood of her home, which gave it's life for her to continue her own- and, in a way, she gave it a new one. A life it would've never known otherwise. And so they took care of each other. And I took care of them.

She calls me a strange name, one of the many I've been called- one of the many that had been forgotten as generations had come and gone. I say her name in a tongue I do not recognize, though it passes by my lips easily. It is not the first, nor the last time I have said this name. I am one of the few who remembers it.

I gently put the doll among the other things she has given to me over the years, all holding an amount of love only a human could carry, and I cherish them all. She lights candles that she made herself, dyed green for the forest I so dearly love. I stare at them a while, watching the flames flicker gently, tilted slightly in my direction.

As I look around the home, tend to the fire and make sure the home is steady, the woman sits in the chair her son made for her, gazing out at the rain. We both know this will be her last storm, and so I do not bother her. Only keep my presence nearby. She may take her time, enjoy the world a few moments longer. Enjoy the world for as many moments as she may wish.

I held her hand and shared with her memories of when she was young. Of when she first said my name, and when she first offered me a little flower crown she made, to her mother's delight. I shared with her memories of her children, and her children's children- and of the children who've yet to come. Her family is all in good health, and happy.

She hopes, with a smile, that her passing does not interrupt that.

It will, but only for a moment. They will learn to be happy, because she would want them to be. And so they will, and they will do so with all their hearts. She will remind them just how important happiness is.

She rests, then. And I stay until the candles' flame dies out one last time.

I was a being of the Hearth and Home- the warmth under blankets and in fresh meals.

If someone were to make an altar for me, I'd accept anything they wished/were able to provide. But I would like obsidian, dried herbs, and white/green/black candles. Offerings of food would be endearing, and anything crafted for me by their own hands would be cherished. Perhaps a deep green altar cloth, if you want to get fancy (/lh). I do so love moss.

For abilities... To help keep the fire fed throughout winter nights; to make sure food is warmed evenly and entirely. To keep the home steady through storms; and make sure the gentle, content comfort was always there.

Meeting the one who gave me my true sight. The callouses on their hands, the kindness in their voice. Dark green and brown eyes, and soft hair between my fingers. Drifting asleep on moss for the first time, and waking up feeling... Free.

In this life, I'm heavily associated with the Moon. I suppose anything that brings a sense of homely comfort would be perfect representation. Warm hearths, soft beds, a favorite blanket or smell- even a childhood story.

godkin/deitykin questions

what are you a god/deity of?

if someone were to make an altar for you, what would you want included in it?

what are your abilities?

if you have source memories, what's one positive one?

what's an image that represents you?

if you want to add more questions, feel to rb with some!