#deity ru

[felinefractious]

Gregory-House Deity*RU

🐱 Siamese

📸 Naumenko Aleksej [Deity*RU]

🎨 Blue Point

[gachats]

Khors, 2015 - oil on canvas.

— Andrey Alekseyevich Shishkin (Russia, 1960).

According to the most widespread and reliable theory, Khors was the East Slavic god of the moon, equal in importance to Perun and Veles.

[rubyredspells]

Hello world! :)

My name is Ru, I am 24 years old (1999) and use they/them pronouns. I am autistic and experience chronic pain.

I am an eclectic witch and love to explore magic with everything possible! I think magic is just so brilliant I couldn't nail down a category for myself if I tried 😂 My favourite thing to do is write original spells and share them with everyone I can, as well as create tarot spreads in the moment when doing a reading with my deck. I hope to share both of these things with all of you here 🥰

I am a Lokean and have been since 2018! If you ever followed a blog called "Loki'sCinnamon", that was me. Sadly, when trying to delete a side blog I no longer used, I accidentally deleted my main blog. In an instant I lost the last two+ years of my record with Loki, all of my original craft work, and connections with all the mutuals I had formed. I was devastated, and didn't feel ready to come back to tumblr again for a long time.

I think I am ready to start again now.

Sometimes the chaos of a forest fire makes way for the growth of new trees, after all 🌿

Currently I am just working with Loki as to not overwhelm myself, but I have also worked with: Odin, Hel, Thor, Hades and Persephone!

I would truly love to use this blog to get back into the world I once had here and make connections with people who also practice witchcraft and know Loki is so much more than the negative stereotypes that closed minded people shrink them to.

Please feel free to send me a message if you pick up on some good vibes (I met someone who I consider family to me back in 2018 right here through a Loki connection! 🥰), as making friends as a ND adult can be very hard, I will do my best to reply!

Or: please submit an ask if you would like a free tarot reading or a free original spell creation based on your request :)

I want to put my skills to good use and make connections, feel free to request from your blog or anonymously and sign off with an emoji, I don't mind which works best for you at all 🥳🖤🩷💚💙

[cervenakoviny]

S niečím takýmto by sa človek mohol stretnúť na cestách s Roganom. Prípadne aj v príhodách Sviatoslavových družiníkov. (Žeby námet na fanfikciu? ;) )

MYTICKÁ ZVÍŘATA - vystupovala ve vyprávěních Slovanů v obdobné míře jako u jiných národů a plnila zde různé speciální úlohy. V období avarsko-slovanské symbiózy se zvláštní oblibě těšil gryf - čtyřnohé zvíře s křídly a orlím zobákem. Bývá vyobrazen samostatně v loveckých scénách a také v boji s hadem, který v tomto případě symbolizoval zlo. Přestože víme, že tento dualistický motiv je íránského původu, není jisté, zda význam celého výjevu byl ve střední Evropě týž. Ve stejné době (8. století) byl vyobrazen čtvernožec s lidskou hlavou na nákončí z Pohořelic na Moravě*. Bohužel nevíme, jak byl takový tvor nazýván a proč na něm jiný bájný okřídlený tvor jezdil. Gryf byl často zobrazován i v mladší době, v Bulharsku 9. až 11. stol., na Rusi v 11. a 12. století. Stejně často vystupoval i Senmurv (okřídlený pes) - posel, ztotožňovaný většinou s východoslovanským Simarglem. Vzhledem ke značné míře stylizace při ztvárnění zvířat lze někdy obtížně odlišit bájného tvora od stylizovaných skutečných tvorů. Zjevná je inspirace jiným, většinou pozdně antickým či íránským prostředím. ~ MYTHICAL ANIMALS - appeared in the stories of the Slavs to a similar extent as in other nations' and performed various special roles here. In the period of Avar-Slavic symbiosis, the griffin - a four-legged animal with wings and an eagle's beak - was particularly popular. He is depicted separately in hunting scenes and also in a fight with a snake, which in this case symbolized evil. Although we know that this dualistic motif is of Iranian origin, it is not certain whether the meaning of the whole scene was the same in Central Europe. At the same time (8th century) a quadruped with a human head was depicted on nákončí (part of belts of Great Moravian elite) from Pohořice in Moravia*. Unfortunately, we do not know what such a creature was called and why another mythical winged creature rode it. The griffin was often depicted even later, in Bulgaria in the 9th to 11th centuries, in Russia in the 11th and 12th centuries. Senmurv (winged dog) - a messenger, mostly identified with the East Slavic Simargle - appeared just as often. Due to the considerable degree of stylization in the depiction of animals, it is sometimes difficult to distinguish a mythical creature from stylized real creatures. Inspiration from other, mostly late antique or Iranian environments is obvious.

Encyklopedie slovanských bohů a mýtů ~ Encyclopedia of Slavic Gods and Myths (Naďa & Martin Profantovi)

* See: below

[scholartism]

🐏﹐LOVE , DIVINITY , LAMB AND BUNNY THEMED NAMES / PRNS / TITLES ;

names: adorille , amiette , amourine , esme , erasmus , cora , milan , desiree , dear , darlynne , amandine , asta , ansel , diantha , theo , hanita , oona , oan , kori , dolly , mimi , bunette , leveret , arley , lulu , harley , lapin , lapinesse , hop , hopette , loppille

prns: lo / loves , cu / cutes , ki / kiss , chu / chus , de / dears , cor / cores , ado / adores , de / deus , di / divines , ru / rulers , ho / holys , lu / lumens , pra / prays , shi / shines , wi / wings , flu / fluffs , so / softs , plu / plushs , baa / baas , ri / ribbons , pyo / pyons , hop / hops , bun / buns , ca / carrots , pet / pets

titles: [prn] who is adored , [prn] who is loved by all , the beloved one , [prn] who is full of affection , [prn] who is made of pure love , the admirer , the hopeless romantic , [prn] with a loving heart , the darling , the deity , [prn] who resides above , [prn] who watches over all , [prn] who is holy , the exalted one , [prn] with wings , [prn] who is worshipped , [prn] who bestows heavenly light , [prn] who is soft , [prn] who is sweet , the beloved companion , [prn] who follows , the innocent one , [prn] whose heart is pure , [prn] who hops , the cherished cutie , [prn] who is full of whimsy , the hopping one

request 4 anon !

[numbersandstars]

Svati - The Power of the Wind

Degrees: 6°40 Libra to 20°00 Libra Deities: Vayu, God of wind; Sarasvati, Goddess of knowledge and art Vimshottari Lord: Rahu (North Node of the Moon) Sounds: रु ru, रे re, रो ro, ता ta The core meaning: the wind is your element. Full of strength, you do not know what boundary means. You move, you search, you go far away to foreign lands, you learn new skills here and there, you spread your message everywhere. But sometimes, it is hard to handle this power. You can feel scattered at times: ups and downs, uncertainty and fear overwhelm you to the point you can forget yourself totally, letting toxicity enter your life. Now, you are lost in the fog. Or you overestimate yourself and destroy everything on your way like a storm. Walk in nature, introspect yourself: you will find your center and nothing will stop you. Qualities: creative, independent, diplomatic, optimistic, accurate, knowledgeable, sensitive, determined, flexible. Affliction: selfish or self-effacing, vulnerable, restless, indecisive, critical, reclusive, temperamental. Interest in studies, music, art, science, philosophy, trade.

[batmanisagatewaydrug]

Jessie lying wetly encouraged me to actually work on my WIP instead of just daydreaming. I hope you keep working on it and having fun 👍. Unrelated, but how long would it take Jessie to get cancelled online/has that already happened? She has big 'tumblr deity for two weeks until people realize she's an actual person and get Tumblr about it' energy

wowwwww yay yay yay let's go writing energy 🔥 🔥 🔥

also wow love this question thank you. to my mind Jessie is EXTREMELY online frequently to her own detriment. she spends a Lot of time name searching herself and Jonas and Ricochet to see what people are saying about them and she will start snippy little fights with anybody over anything, especially right now when she's extra sad and just needs to feel something.

crucially she is Not doing that as Frostbite but as some random fan who just comes across as extremely obsessed. the only place where she publicly posts as Frostbite is on twitter (or whatever this universe's equivalent of twitter is, I do want to go through and scrub all the real social media names and replace them with cutesy alternatives eventually), where people do regularly get extremely extremely mad at her for both the actual crimes and for being a hot fat girl having fun. she actually doesn't get in fights much on that account because she keeps it very "in character" and Frostbite is Not supposed to care, but she does have like half a dozen rigorously maintained sock puppet accounts for harassing people who piss her off.

she is def on tumblr but I think that's pretty detached from her villain stuff, and I think she used it much less now than she did as a teenager; she probably dipped for a while around the porn ban but will still come back from time and time. she's into a lot of superhero RPF smut (NEVER about anyone she knows) that's extremely controversial so you Know she's getting in fights about that but she'll also throw down with people over, like, Ru Paul's drag race opinions.

most of her online activity these days is spent in the trenches of superhero reddit and like old school forums built by her reddit buddies, where nerds fight about various heroes and villains and try to figure out what their costumes are made of, how their powers work, who's hooking up with who, etc. Jessie's not out as Frostbite in any of those spaces; she's been active since she was a deeply obsessed teenager and only got more involved after she started supervillainy herself.

tl;dr she's not AS cancelled as you'd think but she is extremely extremely confrontational pretty much everywhere. Jessie hasn't realized it yet but she's kind of like a herding dog, by which I mean she's too smart for her own good and just starts destroying things when she's understimulated.

I hope this is like. a somewhat coherent answer.

[asimplearchivist]

𝓡𝓲𝓽𝓾𝓪𝓵

𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐑𝐘 𝐈𝐕 𝐨𝐟 𝐗𝐗𝐕

[𝓪𝓼𝓲𝓶𝓹𝓵𝓮𝓪𝓻𝓬𝓱𝓲𝓿𝓲𝓼𝓽'𝓼 𝓶𝓪𝓼𝓽𝓮��𝓵𝓲𝓼𝓽] [ 𝐌𝐎𝐎𝐍 𝐊𝐍𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐏𝐎𝐒𝐓 ] AO3 | SPOTIFY | PINTEREST summary ☾ ⤏ khonshu was unfamiliar with the concept of self-care, but it would seem that he's unexpectedly well-versed in others. pairing(s) ☽ khonshu/reader | promises kept!verse word count ☾ 2.9k a/n ☽ ⤏ my fourth entry for the moon knight bingo hosted by @juneknight and @spacecowboyhotch over at @moonknight-events. I will eventually crosspost this to the main fic for promises kept on ao3 when it will best fit the chronological progression of the chapters. ⤏ this took a turn I didn't anticipate. khonshu kind of got away from me, tbh. have a flirty old bird I guess? (@angel-of-the-moons I feel like you might enjoy this one.🤭) ☽ MASTERPOST ☾ ☾ PREVIOUS ENTRY ⤎ ☥ ⤏ NEXT ENTRY ☽

What are you doing?

The rumbled words emerged from the shadows hemmed up in the corners of the bathroom more like a disinterested observation than a question.

“Would you care to take a guess?” you offered, opening your eyes and glancing towards the dimly lit silhouette having knelt in front of the door.

The warm, humid room was cramped and ill-suited for more than one person to occupy it at one time, but that fact didn’t seem to have stopped Khonshu from materializing at your side—likely in pursuit of tracking down your exact location since you weren’t in the living room or your bedroom like you usually were at this hour. It was a slow night in London, for once—the police channels had been quiet all evening, so you hadn’t felt the need to be prepared for the moon god’s urgent beck and call. Ru was winding down from school and homework with Lizzie watching her favorite baking show, and your portable speaker played music at the necessary volume to disguise your murmured responses to the lunar deity’s incredulity.

Bathing. In the dark. He tilted his skull. The electricity is not malfunctioning.

“It’s meant to be relaxing.” You raised a hand out of the steaming water to indicate the row of flickering candles lining the broad posterior lip of the tub flush against the wall. “And I can see perfectly well.”

He leaned forward, hands planted on his thighs not unlike a child, and you noticed that his staff was propped against the door frame. You are…self-soothing?

He must have picked up that term recently, as you’d definitely never heard him use it before. “Sort of. More like self-care. Liz offered to keep Ru entertained so I could get a breather until supper’s ready.”

Hmm. Khonshu sank back into his haunches. So you simmer yourself…and to what end?

You chuckled, pulling your legs up and folding your arms across the tops of your knees—modesty was a foreign concept to the ancient being, having associated with a culture that dwelled in the desert and thus rarely utilized complete coverings save to block the harshest of sunlight—and while you’d mostly grown accustomed to his penchant for invading your privacy at inopportune times, you didn’t particularly want to explain the entire premise to him with your chest on full display. “Hot water benefits the human body in many ways—relaxed muscles, improved moods, and the like—not to mention the positive effects of aromatherapy and inhalation of steam.”

Is that why you’re steeping a tea bag?

“It was a bathbomb wrapped in cloth with flowers and stuff in it—that’s why the water’s purple. It’s scented with lavender and chamomile. Smell it?”

How could I not? It has fumigated the entire room.

You shrugged. “At least it’s nice—better than BO, anyway.”

His shoulders scrunched in the only approximation of a frown you’d been able to determine. I see little point in any of this frivolity.

“Have you ever had a spa day, Khonshu?”

The inexpressive dimensions of his skull could not morph to adapt to his dripping dubiety, but it didn’t have to—his once uncanny stillness spoke enough to it.

“It’s nice,” you continued, ignoring his skeptical grunt. “With all those priests and priestesses fawning over you in your temples, I figured you’d have been pampered a time or two over the course of several thousand years.”

We were only allowed to interact directly with our avatars—we oftentimes utilized them as oracles, or spoke to the priesthood through statues, visions, dreams, or signs. Khonshu pushed his shoulders back. They would tend to our sculptures and reliefs as if they were our bodies, make offerings to them, enact rituals in our names, but…nothing quite like this.

“That’s a shame. I think a deep-tissue massage would do you a lot of good.” You reached for the exfoliator and the bar of soap and lathered up the perforated weave in order to scrub yourself so you’d at least look semi-productive. “Maybe some moisturization wouldn’t hurt…last time I saw your elbows, they looked crusty as hell.”

At first you thought you might actually have rendered him speechless, but you should have known better—another cursory peek in his direction revealed that he was merely observing.

I do recall a similar practice, he responded, tapering his beak down towards you, although it was generally utilized in preserving the khat of the mortals that journeyed west.

You rolled your eyes. “Of course. It wouldn’t offer you much of a vast improvement, then, huh? There’s not a whole lot I could do for a mummified bird.”

Khonshu scoffed, but said no more.

You began to wash your body in earnest, starting with your face, then moved down your neck, shoulders, arms, torso, pelvis, legs, and feet. You tried to reach around to tend to your back in the same way, but you winced as the action tugged at sore muscles beneath your shoulder blade—a scuffle with a carjacker the night before had resulted in him collapsed unconscious in the street, and you hadn’t trusted the police not to run him over in their haste to capture him (as well as a glimpse of you in their ever-persistent effort in pinning down the identity of their local do-gooder vigilante), so you’d had to drag him onto the sidewalk with…mixed results. The man had been big enough that he could have carried the car away with him, if the whim had so struck him, instead of hot-wiring it.

Allow me.

You startled as Khonshu’s hand curled over your arm to grasp the porous swatch of sudsy material. You watched, enraptured, as the gauze binding his flesh receded like sand slipping through an hourglass to reveal the pockmarked, ashen skin underneath—but you had only a glimpse before he withdrew with the stretched loofa.

Give me your back.

You twisted adjacent to the length of the tub and leaned forward obediently, deigning not to comment upon it. You supposed that wet wrappings wouldn’t be a pleasant sensation for anybody.

Khonshu imitated your earlier actions, although he was unexpectedly gentler. He dragged the loofa in rhythmic circles from the nape of your neck steadily down, from side to side, to the small of your back—then, to your continued surprise, he placed the fabric on your thigh before cupping his hands in the water and pouring it over your skin to wash away the suds. He then wiped away the rest, the roughened texture of his fingers softened by the soap and water, the pliability of your skin, although you noticed this touch lingered far longer.

You said nothing as he began to explore the typography of your spine and ribcage, seemingly subconsciously. To be such a hardass about almost everything, as well as an unforgiving sparring partner, you had almost forgotten how careful he could be. A foolish notion, really, as you were fully aware of how he treated Ru like porcelain on the verge of shattering—he always had. The methodicality of it lulled you into a trance-like state, your eyelids drooping as you leaned into both of his hands, now working in tandem to press and stroke the tension out of your muscles.

…When was the last time someone had touched you like this? You couldn’t recall. Your ex-husband hadn’t usually utilized this intimate a method of aftercare, even while you’d been trying for a baby. You’d been too busy with Ru and chores during the day to schedule an appointment, although you suspected that a deep-tissue would do you a world of good—Khonshu’s armor always healed your wounds if you wore it long enough, but it still often left you stiff if you’d hyperextended yourself during combat.

Khonshu dug the heel of his palm into that one incredibly tender catch under your shoulder blade. You sucked in a breath and winced, your entire back going rigid against the pain that lanced up into your neck. His displeased grunt was much closer to your ear than you’d anticipated, and you opened your eyes to glance up at him out of your periphery to see that he’d hunched over you.

You did not tell me that you were still in pain, he finally rumbled sternly. Why did you release the armor before you were healed?

“I am healed,” you told him, “just a little sore. It’s normal. I guess it doesn’t stitch everything back together exactly where it was before.”

He grumbled in refutation, but tapped his fingertips against the arch of your spine. Relax. It will only grow worse if you are tense.

“It’s not exactly—comfortable!” you squeaked, jerked forward to avoid the insistent digging of his fingers.

Of all the methods he could have used to steady you, reaching up and curling the length of his hand around the column of your throat was decidedly not what you would ever have expected. Your pulse leapt against the perfectly measured, unoppressive pressure he applied, and—in spite of the copious amount of heat flooding your face—you had to admit that it worked to keep you as still as a statue.

An inexplicable warmth—tingly like the slow creep of magic his armor provided to alleviate your wounds, but far more concentrated (and if you didn’t know any better, you’d have remarked that it almost felt like lidocaine)—wreathed his free hand as he began to knead the tightness out of the problem spot. You groaned softly as he did so, the vibration of the sound resonating through his hand and tickling your throat in turn, squeezing your eyes shut as you twitched on reflex to avoid the pain. Even with his magic’s numbing ability, the injury must have been worse than you’d initially anticipated because it swept right around the curve of your ribs and under—

“Hey!” you gasped, lurching away from those long, beguiling fingers as he followed the muscle to your torso and almost brushed the underside of your breast. This caused the blade of his palm to dig into your jugular, pitching your voice into a broken, if muffled, squeal. “Whoa, watch it—that’s off-limits!”

You’ve a rib out of place, he deadpanned.

“I could have my sacrum detached from my pelvic girdle, but that doesn’t mean I’d let you fondle my ass to fix it, either,” you hissed, trying to pull away, in vain.

Why must you be so stubborn? he groused, pressing his palm into your side directly over the rib in question. His soothing power sank into your body, and you had a hard time resisting the relief it brought. I had no intention of groping you.

You’d thought your face couldn’t grow any hotter, but you were promptly proven wrong. You told yourself that it was strictly the proximity of another person that was causing your uncontrollable reaction, that it had been years since the last time you’d been in such a compromising and vulnerable situation, not that it was Khonshu specifically. (You had always been shit at lying, even to yourself, admittedly.) “I, uh…sorry. Just…wasn’t expecting that.”

I did not mean to startle you. The curve of his beak descended over the slope of your opposite shoulder and the golden, emblematic crescent moon bound over his chest brushed against your back. …Just know that if I ever touched you in such a manner, there is no question that you would be anticipating it, Srit mwt.

You mouthed a curse and dropped your head as much as you could manage with him still holding you in place in hopes to hide your utter mortification. He should not have been having this effect on you. Khonshu was many things, but sexual was not a word you had mentally associated with him at any point.

You remembered, idly, that your research into his mythos had revealed that he was regarded as a god of fertility.

“Uh-huh,” you responded lamely, swallowing and surrendering to him just so that it would be over sooner. You’d planned on soaking for a while after washing up to enjoy the hot water, but now all you wanted to do was curl up in bed and scream into your pillow until your heart stopped drumming itself into a tattoo against the inside of your thoracic cavity.

Then the god of the moon had the the nerve—the fucking gall—to chuckle; a low, raspy noise that carried into your ribcage like a subwoofer ricocheted sound through a vehicle. You needn’t worry. I do not extend such invitations lightly…and I am not particularly inclined to commence anything that could not be completed.

Fuck. Honestly.

You were familiar with the banter the pair of you had shared over the years of serving as his avatar, but you’d never known him to…was he flirting with you, or were you imagining things? Surely not. He despised humans, humanity in general, thought himself above mere mortals to the point that he only associated with whomever he’d selected to be his Fist at any given time (as far as you were aware, anyway).

This was new. It was foreign and unexpected and completely out of character for him. Just when you’d thought you had pinned down his personality, he’d gone and revealed another aspect of himself—like a phase of the celestial body he represented. It didn’t make you uncomfortable, per se (quite the opposite, in fact, if you were to be totally honest with yourself; you’d made somewhat suggestive remarks to him in passing before, mostly for humor’s sake, but he’d never before responded in kind), but it was disarming you in a way for which you never could have prepared yourself.

He had seen you naked before—numerous times, in fact, much to your chagrin, since he couldn’t be bothered to at least knock on something before he appeared out of thin air—but he’d never acted like he’d even noticed your body, nor had he ever cared about the modern concept of modesty. You’d learned to live with it, had grown accustomed to him appearing at the most inopportune of moments. You’d just assumed that he might not even feel any attraction whatsoever, or at least not towards you.

Was that assumption incorrect? Had you misread his body language all this time? Was he just worryingly skilled at hiding any reactions he could have had? You hadn’t a clue—you didn’t know what to think, especially since you swore you could feel each individual crease on his cool, coarse palms against your heated flesh. He was a dominant entity, controlling out of necessity given the nature of his creed, but you’d never thought that it could carry over into a context quite like this.

…Of course, you’d never thought he’d offer to help you bathe, either, but here you were: naked, wet, and as vulnerable as one could be, trying very hard to hide exactly what he was doing to you simply by touching you comparatively chastely in sharp contrast to what the tone of his voice might have indicated.

You cleared your throat, realizing that you’d been quite a little too long. You could almost hear his smug grin—if he were even capable of displaying it in his primary, decayed shape. “...Thanks. For the…for the help. I feel a lot better now.”

Impatient, as always, he tutted. Just a moment.

“No, really, I’m good, you’ve worked your ma—gic!”

The sharp, high noise that escaped you as his hand compressed your rib and set it back in place with a dull click was worse than you could’ve imagined. Khonshu, mercifully, withdrew as quickly as he’d approached, leaving you reeling and dazed. You sucked in a breath, gritting your teeth against the urge to cringe, and probed your side experimentally.

There. That wasn’t so bad, now was it, hmm?

“If you weren’t a literal deity that could smite me from this plane of existence, I would offer you some very choice words on the quality of your bedside manner.”

That has never restricted you before. Khonshu’s spindly form creaked as he stood and straightened to his full height (or as close to it as was possible, given the bathroom’s low ceiling), leaving you shivering in the humid air he stirred in his wake. Although I doubt you will complain that I finished the job that you failed to allow the armor to finish.

“Well,” you started indignantly, “I guess I can count on you to finish everything I don’t, then, huh?”

A beat of silence passed, and that was arguably worse than anything he could’ve said in reply.

You dropped your head into your hands and groaned. “Forget I said that.”

He had the audacity to laugh at you. Should you ever require assistance, he crooned, all you need do is to call my name. I will hear you at any time or place.

You reached a hand back to deliver him a solitary finger, refraining from the urge to crawl into the drain and drown yourself. “I think I’ve had about enough of you tonight, thanks.”

If that’s all you can take, then I worry that you couldn’t—

“Shut,” you ground out, “the fuck up.”

Khonshu laughed as he slipped back into whatever the hell sort of fifth dimension he lived in when he wasn’t plaguing you with his insufferability.

[talonabraxas]

Chakrasamvara Talon Abraxas

The Meaning of the Name Chakrasamvara

First of all, what does the name Chakrasamvara mean? In Tibetan, it’s Khorlo dompa (’Khor-lo sdom-pa). Samvara means “collected together,” and khorlo or chakra is a “circle,” and it’s referring to the circle of the deities that are involved or representing body, speech and mind. What we have are all the aspects of body, speech and mind collected together within the context of blissful non-conceptual cognition of voidness.

Sometimes we find that this system is not called Chakrasamvara but just Samvara, which as a whole word means “collected together.” However, the Tibetans will take this word samvara and divide it into the prefix sam and the word vara, and sam they translate with the word dey (bde), which means “bliss,” and vara as chok (mchog), “supreme.” That’s how we get the Tibetan name Demchok (bde-mchog), which means “supreme bliss.”

Another name for Chakrasamvara is Heruka. He is the first syllable of a Sanskrit word, which means “to sport with,” and that means “to act with in a joyful way.” The second syllable, ru, is short for the Sanskrit word for blood, and ka is short for the Sanskrit word for skull cup. Heruka is “the one who sports, or acts joyfully, with blood in the skull cup,” which has many, many different levels of what it represents. It represents various things in the subtle energy system used to get access to this subtlest mental activity. Because of this etymology of the name Heruka, the Tibetans sometimes call Heruka Traktung (Khrag-’thung), which means “blood drinker.” Well, it doesn’t mean that Heruka is a vampire. Don’t translate it as vampire, please. In the Kagyu and Nyingma systems, Heruka is sometimes used as a general name for male deities, but in the Gelugpa system, Heruka is not used with that meaning.

So, these are all the different names that we will come across for this deity and the deity system. Sometimes the name is given just to the central figure. Sometimes the name is given for the entire group of figures (it’s actually 62 figures in the Chakrasamvara system).

Mantra of Chakrasamvara

OM SHRI VAJRA HE HE RU RU KAM HUM HUM P'HAT DAKINI DZALA SHAMBARAM SVAHA

(long version)

OM VAJRA HERUKA SAMAYA MANUPALAYA / HERUKA TVENOPATISHTHA / DRIDHO ME BHAVA / SUTOSHYO ME BHAVA / SUPOSHYO ME BHAVA / ANURAKTO ME BHAVA / SARVA SIDDHIM ME PRAYACCHA / SARVA KARMA SU CHAME / CHITTAM SHRIYAM KURU HUM / HA HA HA HA HO / BHAGAVAN / VAJRA HERUKA MAME MUNCHA / HERUKA BHAVA / MAHA SAMAYA SATTVA AH HUM PHAT

[ne-m0]

Rus:

Он был рождён среди звёзд, для защиты ночи и снов. Юное Божество, которому только предстоит познать свой тернистый путь. Такова судьба его - сначала однотонная, приевшиеся рутина, а потом побег от всего, что граничит с рисками гнева небес

Имя божеству этому - Убе, Бог Ночи и звёзд

Обожаю свой случайный хэдканон на то, что Найт Фолл, вместе с Дей Брейком, является богом:з

Eng:

He was born among the stars, to protect the night and dreams. A young Deity who has yet to learn his thorny path. This is his fate - at first a monotonous, boring routine, and then an escape from everything that borders on the risks of heaven's wrath

The name of this deity is Ube, the God of Night and Stars

I love my random headcanon to the fact that Night Fall Ube, along with Day Break Flan, is a god:з

[felinefractious]

Tais Deity*RU

🐱 Oriental Shorthair

📸 Naumenko Aleksej [Deity*RU]

🎨 Chocolate

[gachats]

Knyaz Igor and his retinue swear before the idol of Perun, laying down their weapons. Illustration by artist V.P. Vereshchagin from the album "History of the Russian State in images of its rulers with a brief explanatory text", 1896.

In addition to Perun's control over the thunderstorm because of his association with rain, he was responsible for crops by bringing rain to the fields, and so Perun was thought of as the god of fertility. Manipulation of the thunderstorm gave the deity a "thunderous character", which served to second-guess him as a god of war, as reflected in the oaths of arms in his name and his depiction as the patron of warriors, knyazs power and the Rurikovich dynasty.

[rubyredspells]

Today I wore this beautiful pin in honor of Loki 🕷💜

[yuexuan]

For moshangweek2023 - Seasons

Continuing my seasons AU

A little bit more about the AU:

MBJ was originally not a being of the Heavenly God. However, after the previous winter god fell, he was promoted on Shang Qinghua's recommendation to become the next winter god. As time goes by, the two of them fell in love, causing chaos in the seasons on the mortal realm. Hearing the complaints from the commoners, the Heavenly Emperor decided to separate the different seasonal gods, ensuring that they can never meet each other for too long before another cycle starts.

A little bit about the inspiration for this AU:

There are some debates regarding the origins of the winter god 玄冥 Xuan Ming, and whether He is a part of the four season deities. As you can see in these images (link), Xuan Ming is the only one out of the four riding two snakes, instead of twin dragons. This has led some to theorize that Xuan Ming is a later addition, whereas the originals were Gou Mang (Spring god), Zhu Rong (Summer god), and Ru Shou (Autumn god). Hence my idea that MBJ joined as a later god, after SQH chanced upon him and gave his name to the Heavenly Emperor.

[broomsick]

Had a fun time drawing parallels between the Víga glúms saga and the Ibn Fadlan records and their respective descriptions of prayer among the germanic tribes. I felt compelled to clear up the misinformation spread by hyper-masculine pagan sources according to which heathens do not/should not prostrate themselves or kneel during prayer. Or at the very least, that the norse pagan doesn’t ask their deities for help, yada yada you’ve seen the quote that goes “we are norse pagan rawr we do not bend our knees to our Gods blah blah”, as posted by some oftentimes far-right oriented heathen sources with images of burly men wielding axes (ah yes, the typical norse pagan). The idea of prostration didn’t appear in the Víga glúms saga, but in both cases, a request is made and in humble fashion. Needless to say the idea that the germanic peoples, or at the very least, the Rus tribes and the Icelanders who practiced pre-christian religion would in fact request blessings of their deities. In any case, the idea that prostration/humility was absent in pre-christian religions is nonsense. One of the perks of being neo-pagan is that we get to choose the way we work with deities, whether that be by praying in a kneeling position, by praying in any other position, or by not praying at all. One shouldn’t feel guilt over the way they choose to pray, and if they even choose to do so. I’ll say once more that your path is yours to pick, and there are no rules to norse paganism. Just because this or that source states this or that is the right way to do things, doesn’t mean they are right. Even just by observing these two texts, it's clear that practice varied massively with time and within different nordic cults, which gives us great leeway when it comes to choosing how it is we want to pray, or if we even want to pray at all.

[ganonfan1995]

Thinking about naming Rauru's momma Hylaru?? I feel compelled to end her name in "Ru" since both Mineru and Rauru's named end with "Ru"

Though I think the intention works a bit better phonetically in Japanese, I think it translates well enough to English. I really wanted to get across that Rauru is named after her, but also more importantly: Her name is where Hyrule and Hylia descend from.

I had this whole idea that Hylia became the surface peoples' name for their local deity - of whom Hylaru is posturing as. I imagined there was a bit of a language barrier between the Zonai and the humans below, and that Hylia was just their natural pronunciation of the name.

Trying to stay lore compliant and play around with the ideas I did like from ToTK for this AU, the Zonai are off-world beings with the intention of mining a powerful energy source from the planet. This ties well into my reading of Hylia from SS, being an overseeing queen-god who did similarly with the mining of time-shift stones. I feel like making Rauru's mom that Hylia specifically, and further linking her with the bit of lore we got from the giant bargainer statue quest in ToTK, makes her a really cool character.

I've played around a LOT with Hylia in the past, so this isn't too off from how I normally portray her. But I'm so in love with the idea of a greed-driven deity, who struck the eyes from the god of the earth so she could personally extract the souls from below to power her kingdom. It feels extremely on brand for LoZ and fits really well within the "fallen kingdom" narrative that a lot of games have.