30 Days of Deity Devotion: Odin (Day 9)

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the-illuminated-witch:

Common mistakes about this deity

Hooooooo boy, I could write a book about this topic, but here are a few highlights:

The biggest misconception I see around Odin is that he’s some hypermasculine warrior deity. While he is DEFINITELY associated with war and battle, Odin is known in the myths for subverting gender roles. He is strongly associated with seiðr, which is largely considered a woman’s art – men who practiced seiðr were met with social stigma. 

We also see that Odin is willing to use trickery and cunning to achieve his goals. He doesn’t always rush in, spear at the ready. Based on our sources, it seems that Odin is someone who does whatever he needs to do to get what he wants, regardless of gender roles. 

Another misconception I see a lot is that Odin is the father of all of the Aesir. While Odin does have several children, he definitely did not father all of the gods. While “Allfather” is a common title for Odin, I don’t think he was ever believed to literally be the father of the gods.

With recent events in the United States, I want to address one of the most dangerous misconceptions about Odin – that he would ever support Nazis or white supremacists. Anyone who believes that any of the Norse gods would support a racist agenda fundamentally misunderstands Old Norse culture. 

The Norse had trade routes as far as North Africa and West Asia, and they had far-reaching settlements along these sailing routes. While they probably didn’t have a concept of race as we understand it today, they didn’t seem particularly concerned with the purity of their bloodlines – Norse sailors and settlers would often intermarry with the peoples they encountered. Mixed race people would have been fairly commonplace in many parts of the Old Norse world.

Archaeologists have found Islamic grave goods in Norse graves, which confirms that there was a cultural exchange between the Old Norse and the Arabic world. Based on written accounts from both cultures, it is clear that there was no sense of superiority based on race. 

Will you be writing a new omegaverse Paz/Din? Or perhaps Boba/Din? Or could we get more of the one you’ve already started, the touch-starved one? (Also, spite is one of the best motivators xD) Thank you for your lovely stories! 💙🥰

Posted on av swmoddy

Waking slowly, Din felt disturbingly uncomfortable.

Somehow he was both wet and yet dried out at the same time, his head pounding slightly while feeling both too hot and yet too cold at the same time.

And for the life of him, he couldn’t remember what had happened.

Slowly he forced himself to open his eyes to the dimness of the room, letting out a low noise as he felt how crusted they were, feeling gross at how it practically felt like eye boogers were falling every time he blinked.

But he could tell that this was their room, their safe place where his nest and his alphas dens were made and by the feel of the room and the light, it seemed to be approaching midday, the heat of the room underground not unbearable but not pleasant either.

The longer he was awake he also realized eyes weren’t the only thing crusted, his thighs and legs felt disgusting.

Far better was the sensation of his mates pressed around him, warm skin pressed to his own.

Paz had taken up at his back, face pressed to Din’s neck and his arm under Din’s head.

It had to be so numb Din dazedly thought, blinking to try and get the crust out of his eyes without moving.

Boba had taken up the front, the smaller alpha pressed to Din’s chest, arms around the trim waist with his forehead to Din’s collarbone, knees pressed to his omega’s own. It was a position Boba tended to take, admitting once that he enjoyed being able to listen to Din’s heartbeat until he fell asleep.

Not that Din minded having Boba tucked under his chin, it was a nice feeling, having his scarred buir’ika trusting him so and his inner omega purred at being able to provide comfort for his higher alpha.

But for the life of him, Din doesn’t remember why he’s so wrung out at the moment.

Or why both of his alphas are wrapped so tightly around him.

Boba hasn’t held onto his hips this possessively since he put his teeth into Din’s mating gland and Paz is sleeping with his nose practically pressed to his scent gland, as if he needs the scent to reassure himself somehow.

Despite how awful he feels, Din can tell he hasn’t been in a heat.

At least not a normal one, though with a noise of disgust, he realizes why he feels wet as he feels the mostly dry slick between his cheeks and thighs.

And tellingly, his hips don’t have that delicious friction ache that comes from mating with his virile mates.

But his heat was so far of still, Paz rut was suppose to come first, Boba having been teasing the bigger alpha about it each time it was mentioned while Paz pouted and clung to Di-the drink.

Din shot up at the memory to the surprised, raspy cries of the other two, the memory of the awkwardly sweet drink he had grabbed from Boba’s throne yet had still drunk because once he had grabbed it, he didn’t want to be ungrateful spinning in his head.

His head instantly spun at being upright though and he gave a keen as his head throbbed with pain, feeling hands wrap around him and pull him back down, soft crooning and purring soothing at him with tender hands petting.

It didn’t make the pain or the soreness of his body go away but it did encourage him to open his eyes again, wondering when he had closed them. Blinking up at Paz and Boba’s worried faces, Din let out a piteously low whine.

“Get water Paz,” Boba ordered quietly, recognizing that Din’s head must be killing him as he cupped their omega’s cheek, rubbing gently with his thumb at a high cheekbone. “Are you okay with both of us leaving the bed princess? I’ll get you some painkillers if you are.” He tacked on softly as Paz did as told, the rustle of the beaded curtain of the fresher jangling softly.

While he would rather not be alone, even for a minute, the prospect of a hypo did tempt and he gave a shaking nod, swallowing thickly as he heard the rush of water, indicating that Paz fetching what sounded like ambrosia to Din.

Boba paused long enough to press their foreheads together before disappearing too, leaving Din to stare up at the beige roof of their room, his blue wind chime in his peripheral vision.

Every blink however reminded him of his crusty eyes and slowly he raised a hand to try and remove it.

A large, warm hand wrapped around his wrist before he could though, Din letting out a low noise of discomfort as Paz sat down on the bed with a jug set on the nightstand, a small blue cloth over his arm. “Don’t.” He rumbled before reaching down and lifting Din up via his armpits, settling him against the cool wooden headboard.

It rankled to be treated like an invalid or a child and Din opened his mouth to voice his complaints only to shut it and his eyes when Paz pressed the blue cloth to his face, Din realizing it was a washcloth, a wet one

Carefully Paz set to washing at Din’s eyes and over his face, removing the grime and crust. That too felt almost as lovely as the idea of drinking some cool water and Din let out a relieved whimper as he pressed into the touch.

Paz let out a soft croon in return and washed down his neck and over his shoulder.

By then the cloth had warmed up but it had done its duty and Paz set it aside to grab the water cup on the bedside, filling it with water from the jug, Din watching closely if tiredly the whole time until the cup was set to his lips.

Shaking hands came up to grasp at the cup, though Paz didn’t let go even as Din held onto it while drinking in slow, steady gulps.

Most likely for the best, considering Din’s hands were shaking without holding onto anything.

Boba returned as he was finishing the cup, a hypo in his hand. “Fennec had one ready, she’s dealing with the idiots out there.” He grunted, sitting down on Din’s other side.

Shifting forward a bit, Din made it easier for the alpha to get to his back, letting the man set the hypospray into his left shoulder muscle.

He felt disturbingly vulnerable as he did, though his mates being there and surrounding him did offset the feeling thankfully, Din licking his cracked lips once the cup was lowered and refilled, though Paz didn’t give Din the second cup of water. “What the hell was I slipped?” He rasped out.

Boba, nuzzling gently at his neck, paused. “Something meant for me and therefore an alpha. It was never meant for an omega system.” He rumbled, clearly upset even as Din leaned into the touch.

Snorting faintly, Din opened his mouth, only to let out a low noise when he heard a crack, blinking to Paz.

The big alpha had opened a can of something, raising a brow when he saw Din blinking at him confusion. “Energy drink. You’re going to need the sugar and vitamins it has after what just happened.” He stated seriously, lifting the can to Din’s lips. “Plus, its cold.” He tacked on.

Well, Paz wasn’t wrong and obediently Din started drinking, letting out a low moan at how cold it was, drinking more eagerly despite Paz not tilting the drink too much.

Clearly the other was avoiding the water belly he knew Din would give himself if left to his own devices.

“I need a shower…” He whispered once the can was lowered again, peering at the two.

“Do you think you can stand on your own?” Boba questioned, eyeing him seriously as Din considered that question, the man looking pleased for a second when Din shook his head.

It puzzled Din until he realized that Boba was pleased Din admitted to the help he needed.

‘I’m not that bad.’ He flustered, even as Boba reached out to settle an arm around his waist, Din settling his own over Boba’s shoulder.

Together, the two got Din up on shaking legs, Paz warily watching, hands ready to catch just in case Din’s legs buckled.

Thankfully, they didn’t, though Din felt them tremble as he clung to Boba, eyeing the distance between the bed and the fresher curtains with trepidation.

“Easy mesh’la, we won’t let you fall.” Paz whispered, large, careful hands settling on Din’s shoulders to rub, the anxiety bundling in Din’s stomach easing out as he carefully, with both Paz and Boba’s help, made his way towards the fresher.

“…I get first shot at breaking the shabuir jaw.” He muttered, smiling weakly when both chuckled quietly in dark agreement. ‘Once my legs can carry me that is.’

So Waxer and Boil had their baby in the Hoarder verse? Is it okay?

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Rubbing at a little hand, Cody barely hears his love speak.

He’ll blame it on his healing ears and the fact that Obi-Wan’s voice is so low it rasps, turning to look at the Jedi with besotted confusion. “I’m sorry, what?” He whispered, not wanting to disturb the little ones.

Giving a drowsy, glassy eyed smile, (all the drugs doing their duty in his system), Obi-Wan repeats himself. “Boil and Waxer’s baby. You didn’t tell me… I mean I saw Waxer but I didn’t think to ask…” He trailed off sleepily, voice slightly slurred.

Cody just knew the other would fall asleep again in moments.

And he deserved it, a solid twenty hours in labor before the first one came, Obi-Wan clenching Cody’s hand in his, crying out with the contractions until the wails of their first baby filled the air as a light bulb in the room had popped, only for the second to be a breech baby.

The medics had been required to do an emergency c-section due to the circumstances.

The medics had of course drugged Obi-Wan up properly for the procedure and the removal of the babies but that didn’t make it any less exhausting on the body, Force sensitive or not.

It had of course helped that General Qui-Gon was there, carefully mopping at Obi-Wan’s brow while sending as much comfort the others way as he could.

After all that, Obi-Wan deserved all the rest he could get.

Smiling softly, Cody continued rubbing at a little hand grasping at his finger. “Their baby?” He finished the half sentence Obi-Wan had tried to sound out.

He got a sleepy little nod.

“Their daughter is fine, needed to be in an incubator for a while, apparently she got jaundice and its easily solved with some light.” He answered in soft tones to keep the other tired.

With the dimness of their room, the sedation in his veins and the warmth, Obi-Wan let out a sleepy little hum of understanding.

Back to sleep he went, with soft, even little breaths.

Chuckling quietly, Cody turned back to their little pink swaddled bundles, topped with blue caps to cover their downy little heads.

For the most part the kids seemed to take mostly after Cody, their skin on the darker side, though not as dark as Cody and while two of them had dusting of dark hair, the other two looked to be lighter.

It would be amazing to see what they eventually turned out to be.

And eyes…

Apparently newborns were generally born with blue eyes, or so a booklet Cody had read said. But eventually their eyes would turn into the color they were suppose to be.

Obi-Wan had theorized, rather early in the pregnancy, that the kids had a chance of going Cody’s amber or a mix of his own and Cody’s.

Something about recessive and dominant genes.

Cody hadn’t been paying too much attention to it at the time, his head resting on Obi-Wan’s belly, listening to the children move as the Jedi petted his hair and teased the springy curls that would disappear the next time Cody cut his hair.

There was a reason he kept it so cropped after all.

“We still haven’t thought of names for you all…” Cody murmured, smiling fondly when the one in the middle of the bassinet twitched at his voice and then settled back.

He and Obi-Wan had of course talked about it.

It had been a bit of a novel experience for him, if Cody was honest.

Clones named themselves, it was one of the few things that were theirs.

But they were also very much conscious beings.

The children wouldn’t be able to name themselves for years and years to come and they had to call them something.

Cody refused to be like the longnecks, dehumanizing his children and not giving them any names and instead a designation that would last until a name was chosen. Though he was more open to the suggestion when Obi-Wan assured him that if the children wanted, they could change or edit their names in the future.

So, they would have to think of names.

Proper ones.

Strong names.

Names that the children would be proud of and maybe want to keep.

He wondered if it be wrong to name one of them ‘Kote’. It had been Cody’s name, what felt like a long time ago, given to him by Fett of all people.

Then Cody found his own name…

But Kote was still a good name, a strong one, one to be proud of.

He’d ask Obi-Wan what he thought, once the Jedi was awake but until then, he was going to settle in and watch his little squad sleep, the sounds of all five’s steady breathing reassuring Cody that his strange little family was fine.

Galleri | Posted on av swmoddy

twilightofthe:

quiet-oracle:

Evening Star

Part I of my Secret Santa gift for @twilightofthe! This is easily one of the biggest and most elaborate projects I’m undertaking and this is just the first three pages. I’m relatively new to comics so the panelling may be a bit iffy but let’s hope I get better by the time I’m done with this ahahaha. 

Merry Christmas and Happy New Year, Clary. Get ready for the next installment for the rest of your prompt bc damn did I let it run away from me HAHAHAHA 😂

Cherry how the hell can I be ready for the next installment this one’s absolute perfection has already killed me dead y’all are gonna need a necromancer for my ghost holy SHIT HOLY SHIT HOLY SHIT 😭😭😭😭❤️❤️❤️❤️🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹

Source: quiet-oracle

Anakin is very glad that his little padawan is with Fox when he runs into Palpatine on his way out of the Senate. He does not like how focused the man is on his young padawan.-sightless bird

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If there was ever a time Anakin was grateful he had sent Obi-Wan of with Commander Fox, it was right now as he forced his face into a pleasant expression, slowly turning to meet the smiling man practically jogging to him.

“My boy, I’m so glad I caught you before you left!” Chancellor Palpatine greeted with a warm smile.

It made Anakin want to punch his face in. But he forced himself to keep smiling, tucking his hands into his sleeves to avoid letting people see his clenching fists. “Indeed Chancellor, its always a… pleasure.” Anakin hoped no one caught the momentary lapse in his voice.

Of course they did though, as Palpatine raised a decrepit eyebrow. “You seem unhappy my boy, have I caught you at the wrong time?” He questioned curiously.

Shaking his head, Anakin reminded himself that this was the chancellor and regardless what Anakin’s personal feelings for the man was, he had to pay him a mediocre of respect. “Its just been a long day sir, long weeks if I’m honest, its my first day back on Coruscant.” He tacked on, as respectfully as he could.

He hated being in the Rotunda.

He felt like he was surrounded by snakes at every corner, slimy ones at that and never before had he agreed with Qui-Gon’s sentiment of slimy politicians as strongly as he did in that moment.

His statement however seemed to have done the trick as the Chancellor smiled once more at him. “Ah, I see, then I won’t keep you. I was simply curious as to where your young padawan has gone of to, I noticed him and you observing the debate.” The man chuckled.

Instantly, Anakin’s entire being felt submerged in ice, his smile fading.

How in karks name had the Chancellor seen them?

They had been in one of the highest observational balconies, a calculated move by Anakin, using his Jedi access to go where normally only the press went to have a good eye on everything, with additional viewing screens. It was the furthest away from not only the Naboo pod but also the Chancellor that Anakin could get them while still being able to hear and see.

That only lead him to the conclusion that Palpatine had been looking for them, to be able to know that.

And now he was asking where Obi-Wan was…

The dragon in his chest rose, snarling and roaring even as Anakin forced himself to respond, feeling a bit like his ears were cottoned, trying to force himself not to scream at the man not to approach his padawan. “My padawan ran off with some friends of his, teenagers always have a lot of energy, even if I require rest.” He tried to feign something close to nonechelance.

Not that he thought he’d managed it, by the scrutinizing look Palpatine and the confused ones the man’s aid sent him.

He also noticed a few of the Coruscant guards that had followed a bit behind were shifting.

Clearly they knew where Obi-Wan were.

Considering the amount of adoration Anakin had felt when Fox saw Obi-Wan, that didn’t shock Anakin and he quickly slipped his hands out of his sleeves to finger spell with the battle signs Rex had taught him, the chancellor saying something inane about it being a shame he missed meeting Obi-Wan, once more sending shivers down Anakin’s back.

‘Not.A.Word.’

A trooper with a red spiral on his helmet eased his own fingers off his. ‘Copy.Birdie.Safe.’ One of Palpatine’s aids were leaning forward to whisper into his ear, something about a meeting. Anakin’s thoughts were occupied by other things.

Birdie.

Was Birdie Obi-Wan’s battle sign in clone finger language?

He’d have to ask, though asking Obi-Wan would be difficult.

Maybe call up Fox or ask Rex.

Anakin forced himself to bow as he heard the Chancellor finally dismiss him, finally able to turn and walk away, searching out his bond with Obi-Wan to track the boy down.

He breathed out when he found the other, far away in the barracks of the CG and clearly also on the move.

Then he paused, feeling another set of eyes on him, slowly he raised his head and meet Padme’s eyes, the brow eyes staring at him with wide, questioning eyes.

Anakin stared back before simply heading straight for the doors, jaw muscle jumping.

He had enough of politicians for one day.

Needfortouch: Din does go rescue baby Yoda, right? Does Paz leave with him in this?

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He has a kid.

Sitting in the pilot seat, staring at the green, cooing thing, Din isn’t sure what to make of himself.

Hadn’t he so long ago sworn that he’d never be swayed by his own instincts, that he wouldn’t be that kind of omega?

The ones media liked to portray, the omega with wide hips and a child on it with an alpha coming home from work to scent them?

Not that there was anything wrong with that way of life.

It just…

It wasn’t Din.

Din was not that kind of omega.

Din walked a lonesome road, flew among the stars, kept to himself and tried to hide his designation to avoid complications. Hell, the few times he had flown his old gang, he had always dismantled his nest and hid it.

He didn’t want to bother with them figuring it out.

But here he was, a child on his lap and a covet he had left behind to fend of the Imperial remains of a Moff, his instincts having screamed too loudly when he saw the hover pram in the trash.

The moment he had seen it, his mind had switched off and his instincts had kicked in.

Just hours earlier he had been in Paz Vizla’s lap, giving into said instincts.

Maybe they had been closer to the surface from, maybe it had been his own guilt, maybe Din was trying to give himself excuses, maybe it was a combination of all three.

But the end result was the same.

A child in his lap on the Razor Crest, his covet left behind and a bounty on his head more than likely, along with the kid.

And he didn’t even know what species it was or what his name was.

Dropping his head back, Din’s helmet made a thumping noise as he exhaled loudly, the kid staring back up at him while chewing on his hand. “…I’m not quite sure what to do now.” Din admitted quietly.

For the first time in what felt like forever, Din had given into his instincts and his covet was paying the price, while Din fled.

Like a coward.

He twitched and the kid gave a low, worried coo at him, Din closing his eyes before letting out a shaking breath. His scent must be sour again, Din wasn’t sure what to do about that.

There was nothing in his life to tell him how to deal with this.

Maybe if Din had reached out a little more to the rest of his pack, maybe if he had spoken to the Armorer, after all, as an omega and alor, she would know more, know better, maybe some way for Din to deal, so many maybe’s and nothing to do about them as he carefully lifted the kid and put him back in the pram.

Instead he forced himself to inhale and exhale steadily, forcing calm into his veins as he repeated the action four more times.

Least he felt calmer as he turned back to the kid, tilting his head slightly. “Don’t suppose you have any answers kid?” He questioned tiredly, only to get a soft coo and the kid chewing on his hand again.

Din blinked, turning back to the controls to put the Razor Crest into autopilot.

Then he stood and picked up the child. “I imagine they didn’t feed you properly in that lab,” He mused out loud, wondering when was the last time he had spoken this much to someone. “If you’re willing to choke down some rations, I got some food at least.” He moved out into the galley, heading to the small, very small, kitchen it had.

It would be at least something for the kid to eat… if he ate rations.

Honestly, Din wasn’t sure what this kid even ate and for a panicked little moment, he wondered if the kid was so young that he drank milk. Then his mind kicked in and reminded him that the little one had eaten a live frog for Manda’s sake.

It was very unlikely that the kids proximity would push Din’s body into producing milk.

He let out a shaken breath of relief, the kid squeaking up at him, as if questioning what was wrong now.

“Alright kid, lets see how you do with bland rations.” Din bounced him absently a bit, his brain pausing on the move before he just forced himself to get the ration bars out. ‘Just… roll with it Din, just roll with it.’