Mountain Lodges In Renndølsetra, Norway.

"alterhumans just wanna be quirky!"

tell that to the therians who are shunned for being too wild, too animalistic. tell that to the fictionkins who can't watch a scene of themselves being hurt because it brings back too many memories. tell that to every fallen angel who can't go into a church without sobbing, tell that to every marionette being dragged by its strings until it's broken, tell that to every song who went deaf and is forgetting what it sounds like.

tell it to all of us. or are you scared?

Moodboard for us cause yeah.

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.

Would anyone be interested if I made a divinekin confession blog? I know there's already a divinekin confessional blog ( @divinekinfessions-blog ), but since it hasn't been active in 9 years, I thought it might be fine if I made a new one. I'm not sure how to run those types of blogs, so it would take me a little bit to think it through before I actually make it, if anyone even is interested, but let me know!

I think I might be godkin of some sorts??

I feel like I am my own god in a sense, its hard to describe. Though I dont have any other feelings or experiences or whatever to kinfirm as an actual godkin; all i believe is that I am my own God. (if any godkin would like to throw their two cents in I would greatly appreciate it)

I'm also worried about having 'too many' identities and obviously thats never a case for anyone; no one is invalid for having many identities but it makes me fear criticism :(

🌌

Hello, welcome to my kinblog 🖤

A bit about my background: I'm not sure who this God was, but it was young, and arrogant, and cruel to me and many others. It forbade us from every speaking or learning about other Deities, and in my case even put a physical veil over my eyes. I don't know why, but I wasnt allowed to show nor see my eyes, and so I was never permitted to take off the veil.

I was perfect, in an unnatural, uncomfortable way. You could describe it as an "uncanny valley" effect, where I was... Too perfect. It was a painful existence.

But then I discovered my new pantheon, and they treated me well when I turned away from my old God to instead face them. My hair and eyes darkened, as did my wings, but I didn't turn into an ugly monster. In fact, I had finally gotten free from the uncomfortable perfection, and stepped into a natural perfection. One full of dirt and flaws and.... Humanity. I finally looked alive.

Now I sit here, still following a similar pantheon who've treated me with nothing but kindness, and Im letting my voice be added to the many divine kin out there and their beautiful backgrounds. I may not long for my old home, but I hope we can find community in one another. 🖤

Shared a memory dream with my beloved a while ago, and ever since I've been called Divinity/Angel/God/Godling as a regular term of endearment... It brings me such joy, I truly can't understand it. My beloved worships me in her own way, and I cannot explain how much it makes me feel... Needed. Like I belong somewhere again- connected, to that time long since passed. I truly feel divine again when I am with her; I feel how I did with the one who showed me how to see... Imagine if their soul had carried over into what I now know as her? A nice thing to think about...

The fact that she heard my dream, and came to the conclusion that it must be a memory, all on her own, makes me want to be more open with her about other lives I recall. More than I can describe. But, if nothing else, this.. this is enough. To make a difference in my beloveds life- to provide her comfort and safety and joy, even if we are unable to see each other outside of pictures or long trips.

It makes me.. very happy

Crow stimboard with themes of trinkets and witchcraft

For @justalexisfine

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Believe me, if it were the end, you would know it. Some call it delusion, I call her Skaði. The grass will be green once again.

Deep in the mysterious woods.