If you’re a Norse heathen and believe that “race mixing” is bad
remember that many of the gods are born from interracial pregnancies between the Aesir, Vanir, and Jotunns.
If you’re a Norse heathen and are transphobic or homophobic
remember that many of the gods will alter their forms drastically, the most notable being Loki changing into mare and being impregnated by a male horse, and later giving birth to Sleipnir
If you’re a Norse heathen and fascist
remember that vikings were largely democratic and would regularly hold votes to decide legal matters, and were incredibly accepting of other cultures
Re-blogging this for the Nazi who just started following me ❤
If you’re a Norse heathen and believe that excluding people with disabilities is fine
remember that all deities deserve the same respect, even the disabled like for example Hödur
if you’re a Norse heathen and think being misogynist is cool
remember how Freyja would slay you, how Skadi insisted on her revenge
If you’re a Norse heathen and think people with disabilities don’t deserve the gods:
Tyr is missing a hand asshole
Time to share this again!
Wow, it finally hit 5,000 notes!
Not to mention Odin is missing an eye, and also went on transgender sexual exploits.
In any case, as far as the disabled are concerned, let’s turn to Havamal, shall we?
Now granted, people have translated Havamal in so many ways, although often the ultimate meaning is intact. Anyway, verse 71 says:
The halt can manage a horse, the handless a flock, The deaf be a doughty fighter, To be blind is better than to burn on a pyre: There is nothing the dead can do.
This may be referring specifically to warfare, but the main point is still discernable: so long as one is living, they still can play a part in this world. And let’s not forget that the book is ultimately a guide on how to be a welcoming, kind person, while not tolerating injustice (although admittedly, verse 75 is a bit sketchy, as is the distrust of women. It’s a product of its time.)
In conclusion, Nazis are asshats, and we should be kind to people except them.
Reblogging again for good points.
And among the many interracial gods, Odin and Thor themselves are mixed race, as their mothers were Jötnar (Ice Giants).
If you’re a Norse heathen and dislike transvestites, may I remind you of the time Heimdall and Loki talked Thor into wearing drag.
Odin is also disabled, he is the one eyed god. Odin also has a questionable sexual orientation, as a master of Seid magic. Seidr was almost always described as “Ergi”, an old norse word which meant unmanly and possibly implied homosexuality. Seidr is also considered feminine.
In peacetime, the ruler grows their hair long. In war, they cut it short.
A ruler with long hair is held in great esteem, for defending the peace.
The traditional declaration of war is for the ruler to send their cut-off hair to the enemy ruler. The statement carries greater weight the longer the hair: to receive long hair says that you have angered one who is slow to anger, that you have incurred a wrath not easily woken.
Violent war-mongering leader frantically and aggressively tries to shave just a LITTLE hair off the top of their head into an envelope.
A faraway king receives a heavy wooden crate filled with a coil of the longest hair he has ever seen.
A despised ruler finds hundreds of pounds of cut-off ponytails at her castle entrance, each one belonging to her own people.
A young emperor refuses to cut their hair and insists on trying to make peace with invaders. The enemy leader steps forward, draws their blade, and cuts the emperor’s hair themselves.
Hellen cuts her hair off and throws it in Cathy’s face at her son’s soccer scrimmage.
honestly it really bothers me when ppl compare molly’s death to tiberius leaving & insist he’ll end up forgotten like tiberius was. when the fact is ppl “forgot”, or ignore, or gloss over tiberius is because orion & that shit. end of story.
pelor’s call, these days, comes on a bit more like a migraine than a divine shout for aid.
the romantic ideal of the grey hunt sort of petered out right around the time she’d been urged to go out and kill something for the sun god right as she was getting to the good part of a bath with her then-boyfriend. it died a slow, agonizing death over the next year or so, finally succumbing to its demise as she was treading up to her shins in snow, five months pregnant, percy fretting behind her the entire way, all because pelor wanted her to check the eastern perimeter of the parchwood all for a hunch (which turned out to be nothing), and her substitute huntress had been laid up with a cold.
so when she feels the telltale pinching at her temples, the buzzing pressure behind her eyes, right as percy’s mouth is inching down her thigh to where she wants it, she does little more than sigh irritably and gently push him away from her, too tired to offer up an explanation. he whines so pitifully that she just barely restrains herself from dragging his head right back.
Happy birthday, @notaficwriter! Have some porn. Also a happy birthday month to @pagerunner-j and @out-there-on-the-maroon. Yay for arbitrary deadlines! And a happy birthday to myself tomorrow. My present to myself is positive attention. I hope. Or just the satisfaction of having finished a chapter, I guess.
“Oh, hello there, darling,” Vex greets him as she approaches the
giant-ass tub he has all to himself, filled to the brim with steaming hot water
that smells faintly like strawberries. “Fancy meeting you here.”
“Who’d have thought,” he agrees, trying to sound nonchalant, probably,
but his tone has a slight tinge of both trepidation and reverence to it – both
things she heard in his voice the night before, though something tells her the
trepidation is entirely unrelated to her naked body this time, mostly due to
the fact that she hasn’t even revealed it yet.
Well. It might be somewhat related to the burns and bruises scattered
over her body from where the meteors had hit her, the large patch of dry and
cracked skin on her side, and angry red marks burned into her skin from where
the poison breath had hit her before killing her. She’s not sure, but
considering how she still has an impact scar tinged with green at the center of
her chest, maybe healing magic doesn’t quite get rid of the marks of fatal
attacks. Nine hells, she still has bite and claw marks from the pit fiend that
haven’t quite healed over yet.
And Percy still has every single scar caused by Ripley’s bullets on his
chest.
“Yeah, you know…” She drawls out as she drops her bathrobe, still a few
feet away from the tub. “I could have gotten my own tub, but that just felt
incredibly lonely somehow.”
“Understandable,” Percy says, his eyes following her robe down her body,
but catching on the new scars and bruises courtesy of both Thordak and Raishan,
but mostly Raishan. “It’s also just more efficient to share. Saves water. And
time.”
Overdressed & Underappreciated 