#gods of maa

[pyllymursu]

Here's some new OC arts for a change

It's been a while since I have drawn my beloved broken angel boy Lucia the last time. Truly a character that was a product of his time, but I cherish him even more now than before, because I couldn't possibly create a character like him again in my current state in life

[luckstersart]

I recently gave an official mascot design to Novus's community on Twitch. And there was some very intentional inspiration behind the Starlet's design in the end, hehe. @pyllymursu is the proud creator of Jacques, the angy one.

If you'd like more shenanigans with Novus, consider following him on Twitch!

[the-darkestminds]

Lucien telling Feyre that she and Rhysand are assholes, to her face, is yet another reason why he’s the best character in this series. Someone needs to deliver these hard truths and Lucien is up to the task lol

[arson-09]

Tamlin is actually such an underrated character in acotar. Because of feyres very biased narrative she forces readers to ignore the complexity of his character and man. its sad

Tamlin is a character who is genuinely GOOD at his core. He changed so much of the spring court for good, eliminating slavery within the spring lands and mortals having more protection. Hes a morally good character that made a few mistakes and is boiled down to just those mistakes. Locking feyre in the house and the magical/emotional blow up, which are both pretty decent fuck ups (i dont think siding with hybern fully counts as he was a double agent all along and tamlin was decently justified in thinking feyre was being kept against her will. lets be fr here) and even after he’s extremely fucked over by the nightcourt, his lands and court burned to shit, he still saves rhysand. Saves rhysand and tells feyre to be happy, even when he has every reason to NOT do that!

Hes a character that clearly holds himself to a higher standard. throughout acotar he puts lucien and feyres safety above his own, even sending feyre away when she was the only one who could save him. Even though what he did to her wasnt great its not completely irredeemable, rhysand did much worse things to feyre and other people but hes living his best life while Tamlin seems to find himself unworthy of being a person (acosf wheres hes been in beast form for roughly over two years) hes a perfectionist who now doesnt even think he deserves anyone because he accidentally hurt the people he loves most.

Sjm accidentally created a beautifully rich and morally righteous character who is so extremely fucked by the narrative. Which doesnt even work half the time as sjm cant seemingly commit to making him a full villain (seemingly by accident again she gave him quite a reasonable explanation to everything he did ‘wrong’ but still chooses to make him a punching bag)

If Tamlin was genuinely a morally evil character he wouldnt have NEARLY the amount of fans as he does. Hes a character that requires the minimum amount of media literacy and comprehension to understand and i LOVE him.

[zeherili-ankhein]

Ok one thing I see every year during this time and I'm again seeing nowadays, that is shaming bangali people for eating non-veg during Navaratri

First of all, Navaratri and Durga Pujo are VERY different. This is basic atp I mean.. but still...

And it's not only about Bangalis, Assamese people, some Odisha people and even some parts of North Eastern people I believe (forgive me if I'm wrong) also have the concept of non veg in their diet even during Puja, Devi Puja to be specific.

And second thing, Bengal's Shakta traditions and rituals are A LOT different.

Like some families have traditions of offering Jora Ilish to Maa on Ashtami, with the believe that's her favourite fish. While some families (like mine) go complete veg on that perticular day.

And most families usually eat mutton on Nabami. That's like a must in most households. Some places even had the ritual of Patha Bali during Sandhi Pujo on Ashtami or on Nabami. That is mostly changed with pumkins or ash grounds nowadays though.

Meat in some places is offered as Bhog to Maa. And on Dashami, some places again offer her fishes as that's the day she leaves us for another whole year.

Also you'd be further shocked to know it's not only during Durga Pujo that we have the tradition of non veg.

Some families just like mine, have the tradition of Ranna Pujo, which is celebrated the day before Vishwakarma Pujo. This Puja is for Maa Manasa, and during this, Maa is offered various dishes made of fishes including Ilish or Rui. Some even offer prawns as Bhog.

And guess what? A lot of places still have Bali Pratha during various Kali Pujos that happens all around the year. I've seen myself.

Most Shaktipeeth, Including Kamakhya and Kalighat also have the same Bali Pratha. I just said those two places because I've seen them myself.

(I do agree it's not really good to kill animals but I'm just saying what is true)

Some Kali Pujo, even have rituals that includes alcohol, yes read right even alcohol as an offering to Maa. Believe me or not, this is 100% true.

So stop saying random stuff like why we are consuming non veg or how we are not following the rules, because rules are different in every part of India.

Yup! That's all. Now be kind and understanding and let us all enjoy our own festivals hmm?

Also to piss off people who'll still say dumb stuff, I ate momos and biriyani today cry about it

[blue-lotus333]

Hindu goddess Worship-guide thingys (?) I made

(inform me if I got smth wrong :P)

[onstoryladders]

VEGASPETE VAMPIRE AU IS OFFICIALLY DONEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE SMILING THROUGH IT ALL CAN'T BELIEVE THIS IS MY LIF-- WHAT THE FUCK DO YOU MEAN I HAVE TO EDIT 10K WORDS

[theendlessnessofbeingme]

Me every time my favorite character dies:

The creator:

[acourtofquestions]

Kingdom of Ash Chapter 61

Chapter; Highlights (okay the entire chapter is a highlight)🤣

As requested @mysterylilycheeta I NEED TO SQUEAL IN WYVERN FANGIRL WITH YOU NOW CAUSE OH M GOODNESS THIS CHAPTER ON SO MANY LEVELS I JUST AHAKWIHUHFEJLZXBKEKA

Agony was a song in Lorcan's blood, his bones, his breath.

Every step of the horse, every leap she made over body and debris, sent it ringing afresh. There was no end, no mercy from it. It was all he could do to keep in the saddle, to cling to consciousness.

To keep his arm around Elide.

She had come for him. Had found him, somehow, on this endless battlefield.

His name on her lips had been a summons he could never deny, even when death had held him so gently, nestled beneath all those he'd felled, I, and waited for his last breaths.

And now, charging toward that too-distant keep, so far behind the droves of soldiers and riders racing for the gates, he wondered if these minutes would be his last. Her last.

She had come for him.

Lorcan managed to glance toward the dam on their right. Toward the ruk rider signaling that it was only a matter of minutes until it unleashed hell over the plain.

He didn't know how it had become weakened. Didn't care.

Still Elide kept urging the horse onward, kept them on as straight a path toward the distant keep as possible.

No ruk would come to sweep them up. No, his luck had been spent in surviving this long, in her finding him. His power would do nothing against that water.

The farthest lines of panicked soldiers appeared, and Farasha charged past them.

Elide let out a sob, and he followed the line of her sight.

To the keep gate, still open.

"Faster, Farasha!" She didn't hide the raw terror in her voice, the desperation.

Once the dam broke, it would take less than a minute for the tidal wave to reach them.

She had come for him. She had found him.

The world went quiet. The pain in his body faded into nothing. Into something secondary.

Lorcan slid his other arm around Elide, bringing his mouth close to her ear as he said, "You have to let me go."

Each word was gravelly, his voice strained nearly to the point of uselessness.

Elide didn't shift her focus from the keep ahead. "No."

That gentle quiet flowed around him, clearing the fog of pain and battle. "You have to. You have to, Elide. I'm too heavy-and without my weight, you might make it to the keep in time."

"No." The salt of her tears filled his nose.

Lorcan brushed his mouth over her damp cheek, ignoring the roaring pain in his body. The horse galloped and galloped, as if she might outrace death itself.

"I love you," he whispered in Elide's ear. "I have loved you from the moment you picked up that axe to slay the ilken." Her tears flowed past him in the wind. "And I will be with you ..." His voice broke, but he made himself say the words, the truth in his heart. "I will be with you always."

He was not frightened of what would come for him once he tumbled off the horse. He was not frightened at all, if it meant her reaching the keep.

So Lorcan kissed Elide's cheek again, allowed himself to breathe in her scent one last time. "I love you," he repeated, and began to withdraw his arms from around her waist.

Elide slapped a hand onto his forearm. Dug in her nails, right into his skin, fierce as any ruk.

"No."

There were no tears in her voice. Nothing but solid, unwavering steel.

"No," she said again. The voice of the Lady of Perranth.

Lorcan tried to move his arm, but her grip would not be dislodged.

If he tumbled off the horse, she would go with him.

Together. They would either outrun this or die together.

"Elide-"

But Elide slammed her heels into the horse's sides.

Slammed her heels into the dark flank and screamed, "FLY, FARASHA." She cracked the reins. "FLY, FLY, FLY!"

And gods help her, that horse did.

As if the god that had crafted her filled the mare's lungs with his own breath, Farasha gave a surge of speed.

Faster than the wind. Faster than death.

Farasha cleared the first of the fleeing Darghan cavalry. Passed desperate horses and riders at an all-out gallop for the gates.

Her mighty heart did not falter, even when Lorcan knew it was raging to the point of bursting.

Less than a mile stood between them and the keep.

But a thunderous, groaning crack cleaved the world, echoing off the lake, the mountains.

There was nothing he could do, nothing that brave, unfaltering horse could do, as the dam ruptured.

Rowan made himself stand there, to watch the last moments of the Lady of Perranth and his former commander. It was all he could offer: witnessing their deaths, so he might tell the story to those he encountered. So they would not be forgotten.

The roaring of the oncoming wave became deafening, even from miles away.

Still Elide and Lorcan raced, Farasha passing horse after horse after horse.

Even up here, would they escape the wave's reach? Rowan dared to survey the battlements, to assess if he needed to get the others, needed to get Aelin, to higher ground.

But Aelin was not at his side.

She was not on the battlement at all.

Rowan's heart halted. Simply stopped beating as a ruddy-brown ruk dropped from the skies, spearing for the center of the plain.

Arcas, Borte's ruk. A golden-haired woman dangling from his talons.

Aelin. Aelin was—

Arcas neared the earth, talons splaying.

Aelin hit the ground, rolling, rolling, until she uncoiled to her feet.

Right in the path of that wave.

"Oh gods," Fenrys breathed, seeing her, too.

They all saw her.

The queen on the plain.

The endless wall of water surging for her.

The keep stones began shuddering. Rowan threw out a hand to brace himself, fear like nothing he had known ripping through him as Aelin lifted her arms above her head.

A pillar of fire shot up around her, lifting her hair with it.

The wave roared and roared for her, for the army behind her.

The shaking in the keep was not from the wave.

It was not from that wall of water at all.

Cracks formed in the earth, splintering across it. Spiderwebbing from Aelin.

"The hot springs," Chaol breathed. "The valley floor is full of veins into the earth itself."

Into the burning heart of the world.

The keep shook, more violently this time.

The pillar of fire sucked back into Aelin.

She held out a hand before her, her fist closed.

As if it would halt the wave in its tracks.

He knew then. Either as her mate or carranam, he knew.

"Three months," Rowan breathed.

The others stilled.

"Three months," he said again, his knees wobbling. "She's been making the descent into her power for three months."

Every day she had been with Maeve, bound in iron, she had gone deeper. And she had not tapped too far into that power since they'd freed her because she had kept making the plunge.

To gather up the full might of her magic.

Not for the Lock, not for Erawan.

But for Maeve's death blow.

A few weeks of descent had taken her powers to devastating levels. Three months of it

…

Holy gods. Holy rutting gods.

And when her fire hit the wall of water now towering over her, when they collided —

"GET DOWN!" Rowan bellowed, over the screaming waters. "GET DOWN NOW!"

His companions dropped to the stones, any within earshot doing the same.

Rowan plummeted into his power. Plummeted into it fast and hard, ripping out any remaining shred of magic.

Elide and Lorcan were still too far from the gates. Thousands of soldiers were still too far from the gates as the wave crested above them.

As Aelin opened her hand toward it.

Fire erupted.

Cobalt fire. The raging soul of a flame.

A tidal wave of it.

Taller than the raging waters, it blasted from her, flaring wide.

The wave slammed into it. And where water met a wall of fire, where a thousand years of confinement met three months of it, the world exploded.

Blistering steam, capable of melting flesh from bone, shot across the plain.

With a roar, Rowan threw all that remained of his magic toward the onslaught of steam, a wall of wind that shoved it toward the lake, the mountains.

Still the waters came, breaking against the flames that did not so much as yield an inch.

Maeve's death blow. Spent here, to save the army that might mean Terrasen's salvation. To spare the lives on the plain.

Rowan gritted his teeth, panting against his fraying power. A burnout lurked, deadly close.

The raging wave threw itself over and over and over into the wall of flame.

Rowan didn't see if Elide and Lorcan made it into the keep. If the other soldiers and riders on the plain stopped to gape.

Princess Hasar said, rising beside him, "That power is no blessing."

"Tell that to your soldiers," Fenrys snarled, standing, too.

"I did not mean it that way," Hasar snipped, and awe was indeed stark on her face.

Rowan leaned against the battlements, panting hard as he fought to keep the lethal steam from flowing toward the army. As he cooled and sent it whisking away.

Solid hands slid under his arms, and then Fenrys and Gavriel were there, propping him up between them.

A minute passed. Then another.

The wave began to lower. Still the fire burned.

Rowan's head pounded, his mouth going dry.

Time slipped from him. A coppery tang filled his mouth.

The wave lowered farther, raging waters quieting. Then roaring turned to lapping, rapids into eddies.

Until the wall of flame began to lower, too. Tracking the waters down and down and down. Letting them seep into the cracks of the earth.

Rowan's knees buckled, but he held on to his magic long enough for the steam to lessen.

For it, too, to be calmed.

It filled the plain, turning the world into drifting mist. Blocking the view of the queen in its center.

Then silence. Utter silence.

Fire flickered through the mist, blue turning to gold and red. A muted, throbbing glow.

Rowan spat blood onto the battlement stones, his breath like shards of glass in his throat.

The glowing flames shrank, steam rippling past. Until there was only a slim pillar of fire, veiled in the mist-shrouded plain.

Not a pillar of fire.

But Aelin.

Glowing white-hot. As if she had given herself so wholly to the flame that she had become fire herself.

The Fire-Bringer someone whispered down the battlements.

The mist rippled and billowed, casting her into nothing but a glowing effigy.

The silence turned reverent.

A gentle wind from the north swept down. The veil of mist pulled back, and there she was.

She glowed from within. Glowed golden, tendrils of her hair floating on a phantom wind.

"Mala's Heir," Yrene breathed.

Down on the plain, Elide and Lorcan had halted.

The wind pushed away more of the drifting mist, clearing the land beyond Aelin.

And where that mighty, lethal wave had loomed, where death had charged toward them, nothing remained at all.

For three months, she had sung to the darkness and the flame, and they had sung back.

For three months, she had burrowed so deep inside her power that she had plundered undiscovered depths. While Maeve and Cairn had worked on her, she had delved. Never letting them know what she mined, what she gathered to her, day by day by day.

A death blow. One to wipe a dark queen from the earth forever.

She'd kept that power coiled in herself even after she'd been freed from the irons. Had struggled to keep it down these weeks, the strain enormous. Some days, it had been easier to barely speak. Some days, swaggering arrogance had been her key to ignoring it.

Yet when she had seen that wave, when she had seen Elide and Lorcan choosing death together, when she had seen the army that might save Terrasen, she'd known. She'd felt the fire sleeping under this city, and knew they had come here for a reason.

She had come here for this reason.

A river still flowed from the dam, harmless and small, wending toward the lake.

Nothing more.

Aelin lifted a glowing hand before her as blessed, cooling emptiness filled her at last.

Slowly, starting from her fingertips, the glow faded.

As if she were forged anew, forged back into her body.

Back into Aelin.

Clarity, sharp and crystal clear, filled its wake. As if she could see again, breathe again.

Inch by inch, the golden glow faded into skin and bone. Into a woman once more.

Already, a white-tailed hawk launched skyward.

But as the last of the glow faded, disappearing out through her toes, Aelin fell to her knees.

Fell to her knees in the utter silence of the world, and curled onto her side.

She had the vague sense of strong, familiar arms scooping her up. Of being carried onto a broad feathery back, still in those arms.

Of soaring through the skies, the last of the mist rippling away into the afternoon sun.

And then sweet darkness.

[mossytrashcan]

feyre archeron; breaker of curses, mother to many, inventor of slaying

+ close up :b (also hand tattoo cr to miavern on twt)

[rhysknees]

What to read next

[pyllymursu]

I finally got some time to draw, and this is an idea I've been thinking for a little while ~

So, a little anniversary piece dedicated to the first entry of my visual novel trilogy, Pristine Sin! I still cannot believe it has already been 10 years, but to be fair, Covid stole like 4 years of that decade away soooo-

A lot sure has happened to this game especially, I already overhauled most of the in-game art once, re-designed a few characters, added some new story bits to the script, replaced all the music with legal tunes, but the overall experience has stayed mostly the same. The 19-yo me from a decade ago would be proud of what I have made, just like I am proud of past me for tackling such a project to begin with.

Here's to another 10 years of creation! And of course, please go play it, I worked hard on this little piece of my soul

[hrizantemy]

Sarah J. Maas really has a unique take on what female growth looks like, doesn’t she? I mean, her version of empowerment seems to boil down to: “If your character isn’t training in skin-tight clothing, are they even growing?”

[arson-09]

Tamlin… tamlin who smells like the earth and rain and faintly of roses. Tamlin who plays the fiddle because he likes it. Tamlin whos an expert at swords-fighting. Tamlin who feels the need to protect everyone he can and will put himself at risk and will destroy his public image to try and save people

[unhealthyfanobsession]

@c-e-d-dreamer made this lovely meme for me which describes my entire life so if you’ve ever gone into one of my stories not knowing it’s … idk … an AU … because I only said that on Tumblr, well … oops? Enjoy the ride anyway?

[know-the-self]

Bhakti Yoga - Yoga of Devotion

Salute to the Divine Goddess, who manifests herself as Consciousness in all beings everywhere.

Salute to the Divine Goddess, who manifests herself as Intelligence in all beings everywhere.

Salute to the Divine Goddess, who manifests herself as Sleep in all beings everywhere.

Salute to the Divine Goddess, who manifests herself as Hunger - Desire in all beings everywhere.

Salute to the Divine Goddess, who manifests herself as Shadow - Individual Self in all beings everywhere.

Salute to the Divine Goddess, who manifests herself as Shakti - Creative Energy in all beings everywhere.

Salute to the Divine Goddess, who manifests herself as Thirst - Desire in all beings everywhere.

Salute to the Divine Goddess, who manifests herself as Patience in all beings everywhere.

Salute to the Divine Goddess, who manifests herself as Original Cause in all beings everywhere.

Salute to the Divine Goddess, who manifests herself as Humility in all beings everywhere.

Salute to the Divine Goddess, who manifests herself as Stillness in all beings everywhere.

Salute to the Divine Goddess, who manifests herself as Devotion in all beings everywhere.

Salute to the Divine Goddess, who manifests herself as splendor in all beings everywhere.

Salute to the Divine Goddess, who manifests herself as Lakshmi in all beings everywhere.

Salute to the Divine Goddess, who manifests herself as Mind in all beings everywhere.

Salute to the Divine Goddess, who manifests herself as Memory in all beings everywhere.

Salute to the Divine Goddess, who manifests herself as Compassion in all beings everywhere.

Salute to the Divine Goddess, who manifests herself as Contentment in all beings everywhere.

Salute to the Divine Goddess, who manifests herself as Mother in all beings everywhere.

Salute to the Divine Goddess, who manifests herself as Delusion in all beings everywhere.

O Mother!

Let all my speech be your prayer; let all my crafts and technology be your worship and be the mystic gestures of my hand, adorning you.

May all my movements become your devotional circumambulations.

May everything I eat or drink be oblations to you. Let my lying down in rest and sleep be prostrations to you.

Mother! Whatever I do, may all that become a sacramental service and worship for you.

Om Peace Peace Peace

- Devi Stuti