vikingwolfdad

[vikingwolfdad]

Oskoreia

In Scandinavia, Oskoreia (also called Åsgårdsreia, Julereia or Odens Jakt in other regions) meaning “Asgard Riders” is the modern folk belief related to Christmas that traces its roots back to the Old Norse tradition commonly known as The Wild Hunt.

Oskoreia is a Yuletide tradition viewed as a phantasmagoria of dream-like images of hunters (usually led by Odin) and hunted engaging in battle, typically signalled by the howling of Odin’s wolves, always one louder and the other quieter. The group of riders may be alive or dead, real humans or deities, insignificant or noble, male or female and with many regional variations. It is said to have foretold changing weather in many regions but it could also mean imminent war and unrest. According to some reports, the forest turned silent and only a whining sound along with dog/wolf barking could be heard.

The pursuit can span across the sky but it is said that the hunt may never get closer to the ground than an “ox can wear its yoke”. If caught in the path of Oskoreia it is believed that a person may be swept up into the mayhem and so a good strategy to keep safe is to jump to the ground, thus making oneself lower than the height of an ox’s yoke and allowing the hunt to pass above.

In some regions, folk wisdom advised that people should carry some iron/steel and some bread with them as they walked during the Yule season in case they might encounter Oskoreia. If one should find themselves face to face with Odin, then they should throw down the iron/steel in front of them to ward off trouble. Further, if the person should meet his wolves then they should throw the bread, which they will eat instead of the person.

Another tradition stemming from Oskoreia is the “Christmas goat walk” (”Gå julebukk” in Norwegian) in which masked and costumed people (now usually children) go from door-to-door, singing carols for rewards of sweets.

Artwork by HeySpace

[vikingwolfdad]

How I’d love to win this giveaway it would mean a lot to me <3 

🔹Our shop: https://dickgraysonzine.bigcartel.com/ GIVEWAY TIME! We’re giving away one Physical Zine to a lucky winner! ✨RULES: - Reblog - Follow this blog - Read the information in the picture. 

One entry per person. You can also join this giveaway on twitter for +1 entry. (= max 2 entries per person) 

[vikingwolfdad]

Was about to fall asleep in class so I drew snickering Grimmjow

[vikingwolfdad]

Harry “Put A Strong, Powerful Woman In Front Of Me & I Turn Into The Thirstiest Bitch” Hook

for @reptilefantasy

[vikingwolfdad]

Reblog if you ship HUMA.

[vikingwolfdad]

#soft

[vikingwolfdad]

Project Kvasir

中文版

Freetalk at the end.

Note: Everything in this story is headcanon, which didn’t happen in the game.

One day I found the way Kamski ties the flaps of his bathrobe is Japanese dead man style, so I made a joke that the real Elijah already died and an android carrying his mind took his place. Then several of my friends shared their similar ideas with me. I ship Kamski & Chloe as much as HankCon, and I like the theory that Chloe is rA9, so this comic is the result.

[vikingwolfdad]

[vikingwolfdad]

Once you see me and once…

[vikingwolfdad]

reblog to bless someone’s dashboard

you’re welcome

[vikingwolfdad]

PREORDERS FOR MOM’S EYES ONLY: A VOLTRON CHARITY ZINE ARE NOW OPEN!

Mom’s Eyes Only is a charity fanzine, surrounding the mothers (and their children) of Voltron Legendary Defender. This zine includes over 20 pages of artwork, and over 30,000 words of fanfiction, totaling up to over 70 pages.

To celebrate preorders opening, we’re hosting a giveaway! See details below.

All profits from the zine will first go to providing free copies to our contributors (if possible) and then to the National Partnership for Women and Families

GET YOUR COPY HERE

BUNDLES:

SCRAPBOOKING: $10 USD - Digital PDF

FAMILY ALBUM: $20 USD - Digital PDF - Physical Zine

EVERYTHING BUT THE KITCHEN SINK: $20 USD - 6 Buttons - 1 Charm - 1 Postcard  - 1 Sticker - 5 Mom Coupons

KITCHEN SINK: $40 USD -  Digital PDF - Physical Zine - 6 Buttons - 1 Charm - 1 Postcard - 1 Sticker - 5 Mom Coupons

STRETCH GOALS:

If we get 25 orders, we will be able to print this zine! (Applicable to Family Album and Kitchen Sink only.)

If we get 50 orders, we will add an Enamel Pin to every physical order of the zine! (Applicable to Family Album, Everything but the Kitchen Sink, and Kitchen Sink only.)

GIVEAWAY:

1 free Physical Zine and any unlocked stretch goals (shipping worldwide included).

One winner will be chosen from Tumblr. Giveaway accounts are not eligible to win.

One reblog counts as one entry. You can enter once every 24 hours.

If the winner has already purchased a copy of the zine, they will have the option to upgrade their purchase or receive a refund.

A winner will be drawn after pre-orders close. Please keep your DMs/asks open!

ADDITIONAL INFORMATION:

Some designs might be subject to changes

Preorders close on April 20

Preorders are shipped from the US

Thank you for your continued interest in this zine! We hope you consider purchasing a copy, as our mods, artists, and writers have all worked immensely hard to make this zine a reality.  Thank you for your support!

[vikingwolfdad]

Richard & Bob dance with those Cute Cat Ears 😍😱😭 . . via ‪@The100writers ‬Twitter

[vikingwolfdad]

[vikingwolfdad]

Censored on tumblr

What all ask boxes look like for me (submission boxes look exactly the same):

Left: what happens when I try to open dms (New Message does nothing); I can’t even read them. Right: when I try to go to someone’s dms from their blog.

Neither new things I post nor old things I post show up in the tags they’re in, even if they were before.

I can type things into replies, but it won’t actually post them.

Since it doesn’t seem this one has been encountered by many people yet, maybe reblog this so people know about it. I’m probably getting deleted though

[vikingwolfdad]

Happy Birthday, Magnus Bane! 🍸🔮🌠 *December 8th, 1600s

[vikingwolfdad]

A Fallen Angel - A Shadowhunters Short Story

A trashing sound of wings jammed the air contemporaneously with the searing wind, screeching echoed in the distance as the ground parted under their feet. One after another the angels with the fairest wings now stained with blood shoot down towards the surface of the sinners. Roaring thwacks, cracking and deafening screams extinguished of the levitating ashes as the embodiments struck the ground in a heated world. The unknown world to the fallen angels hotter than anything you could imagine, an ever burning fire tearing on the skin and feathers. An angel with big thick imbrued white wings and black hair, scattered from the group rose to his feet. His wings hung from his back in an unnatural manner as he contemplated the area he had been exiled to, the copper wasteland widened in front of him and he turned around only to be accosted by a equivalent field of vision from every other point of view. His wings turned a coppery red in the manner of the dust climbing onto the white wings whilst he stumbled across the hot desert. Airborne demons circulated high above his head, nevertheless could the fallen angel feel the breeze of scorching wind against his skin.

He fell to his knees of exhaustion after days of straying, his body dehydrated and stale of the scorching air. Establishing his gaze to the skies, he cried out in agony, as all air escaped his lungs he bent over, gasping for air, the heavy wings plastered against his skin the same way as if they were glued to him. The burdensome wings, escaping the ferocious creatures hunting him and the heat constantly encircling him manifested on his mind with a grotesque mindset. He grasped a beautiful silver dagger with loads of tiny dazzling lithographs along the razor-sharp blade, he had held the dagger in it's decorative sheath so cramped when he were cast out of heaven that his knuckles had turned white. The angel clutched his wings, those damned wings, a signature he weren't free, and roughly slashed the blade nether to the bone. The searing pain shot through his whole body as the blade gouged it’s way through the sensitive wings, feeling the crushing of bones under his grasp as he determined gashed his own wings from his body. Aggrieved cries died out, his back stained in crimson as he blacked out in the desert of Edom with his dismembered wings on each side.

The fallen angel jolted up, gasping for air, hunted by the memories of his past as he had dozed off on his throne with a book in hand. He looked around only to find himself alone in his home of Edom, raising to his feet he silently moved over to a chiffonier. Looking into the per glass he reached back touching the top of the deep, misshapen scars where he once had carried his white wings with pride. He walked over to a silver sheath and with gentle fingers he opened the heavy lid, exposing one of the primary feathers of his wings, a memory of what the so called “good God” did to him and the seven other archangels for expressing that the course they journeyed weren’t the right one, the only ones having the courage to assert the way of God. “What kind of fool do you take me for?” he growled lowly as he let the lid fall shut with a heavy cling as metal clashed. His mind set on vengeance.

[vikingwolfdad]

#what a fucking dork