rune michaels

A parabatai. Like he was. And Jace knew, too, what that faded rune meant: a parabatai whose other half was dead. He felt his sympathy leap toward Brother Zachariah, as he imagined himself without Alec, with only that faded rune to remind him where once he had been bonded to someone who knew all the best and worst parts of his soul.
—  Cassandra Clare, City of Heavenly Fire

Inktober Day 12 - Lance of Michael from the Weapons and Sigils list

drawn while hanging out at AAC today :D

Also, why do i keep DOING this to myself? CIRCLES? I can’t drawn no stinking circles!

Also, was it just me, or is it nearly impossible to find any good pics out there with the runes? i’m pretty sure i drew one of them wrong and that there should have been more down the handle

tagging @jdragon122 @dmsilvisart @trisscar368 @destielonfire @casanddeanwinchester @formidablepassion @winchester-reload @braezenkitty @rosemoonweaver @jhoomwrites @deadlyangelkay @blue-reveries @jupiterjames @zummar @feathers-and-cigarettes

anonymous asked:

Pls not a book fan here, what is this about sebastian being aline's family? Why does she believe that

Not book fans: assemble! 

Okay, so Aline’s aunt married an unnamed Verlac man and they had Sebastian Verlac. This is the family tree from The Shadowhunters Wikia:

As you can see, Aline and Sebastian are cousins. More on this mess after the cut, because of spoilers.

Keep reading

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you can turn on subtitles. enjoy :)

anonymous asked:

Can you help me with runes? I'm completely new, and don't really understand them at all. Where should I start?

Hi there! 

The first place to start is by reading the poetic Edda and the runic poems - there are three and easily found by searching “rune poems.” These will give you an idea of the original meanings of the runes.

There are also sources for modern runic revival that I love, although some may not recommend them. It really depends on what you’re looking for in terms of your runic practice. My favorite author is Freya Aswynn. I love her interpretations, and she is rather clear on what is her opinion vs. study of runes. She is a Northern Pagan revivalist, and there are others in this camp as well. They’re not runeologists, but I enjoy their insights.

There are also runic history books, such as Michael Barn’s “Runes: A Handbook” but they are more expensive. It is worthwhile, but it can be difficult to expand your library with that cost. 

Also, I recommend writing down your interpretations of the runic poems and your readings into a little shorthand book, then using the runes over and over again. You’ll gain more familiarity and a more natural relationship with the runes by interacting with them as much as possible! 

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Ski Jumpers aka Selfie Masters | International Edition

The Wildling of Fangorn Forest

Written and based on this imagine by the Wildling herself; http://thewildlingoffangornforest.tumblr.com/


Run!”. “Run!” she cried. The tears trembled down the woman’s face as she fell to the floor within the hut. Shrieks, cries and collapsing dwellings close by deafened me. A terror filled my soul.  
The small village was under attack by an orc pack; warg scouts, creatures of evil.  The people whom inhabited it were merely innocent hunters and gatherers in the mountains.  

The man in the hut kissed and cupped my cheek and looked into my eyes. “Love, stay safe. Run away from here. Be quick and stay hidden, go Eastward. Don’t look back, you understand?”.
I put my hand on his and nodded.  Behind him, a young boy pat my forehead caringly.  Both picked up a weapon of steel and quickly rushed out the door to defend the home.

The woman had ripped a necklace from her neck; a pair of carved raven feet on one side and a runic symbol on the other. She grasped my hands and put the pendant in them, closing them firmly. “Remember our love, little one. We will love you forever and always,” she wept, tears falling from her eyes. She cuddled me tightly and kissed me. She gently nudged me away then removed a dagger from her pocket. “Forever and always, little one. Run!”. That was the last time I ever saw them.

I remember the blistering heat on my skin and smell of the smoke from the burning fires. I chose my escape through a break in the thatched wall.  The shrieks and cries still echoed throughout as I scurried away from the desolated village. Quick and unseen, I got to the top of a peak above the ruins.  I took one last glance at what was once a quaint village with people whom I’d grown with.  I just ran, ran away from what once was, into the unknown.

Lost. Not knowing where I was headed.  As a child, I had not been to many places, even the very few times I went out to gather berries. This was not a familiar path to me.  A heavy feeling of loss and worthlessness over-shadowed me as I looked around the stranger lands.  Tears streamed down my face as I ran fast and helplessly without direction. Still clasping onto my given trinket, thoughts of those people filled my mind amongst dreaded notions of their doomed fate.

It was near nightfall and I came by a very dark forest. Exhausted, I dropped to the ground, physically spent, near the roots of a gnarly tree. My body ached from being on the run all day and my thirst was unquenchable.  My stomach hurt from both pains of hunger and sadness. With no possessions, my existence seemed futile. I had nothing left; but pain, sorrow and a feeling of anguish in which I had never felt before. Consoled only by the trinket the loving woman gave to me.  

Lying down, I fiddled with it constantly, deeply eying the engravings, which were strange to me.  The use of the raven and runic symbol gave me reason to believe that it must have been made with magic spoken of in folklore; a spellbound piece. But, how would that woman have come by this and why did she give it to me? If only I could ask her… My eyes were sore and closing, so sleep took chance and it had taken hold of me.

*Crack* *grumble*. My body stiffened as I heard these strange noises in the night. The smell of the moist, dense leaf litter filled my nose and the sounds of the whistling wind in the trees echoed in my ears. These strange noises alarmed me.  I felt the ground beneath me shake.  Scared, I stood up and dusted the damp earth off my rag-like clothing.  I looked to where the gnarly tree was where I laid… but it was not there.  My gut sank and I turned around slowly to see the gnarly tree standing tall, blinking with eyes glistening in the moonlight.

With another crack and grumble, it moved towards me. In awe, I gawked at the unusual being as it seemed to observe me. I wanted to run but I was frozen in my stead. I did not know what to expect. With the look of confusion on its face, it grumbled once again with what seemed to be words; “Don’t be hasty, little orc!” it said long-windedly.
Still frozen, I fumbled with my words; “I-I’m not an o-orc, oh tree. I, uh, I have run for miles and I am l-lost.”.
It grumbled again. “I am no tree, I am an Ent. Treebeard some call me.  Lost, you say? You are in Fangorn, little wildling. You are safe here”.

The initial feeling of fright faded away and a sense of calm took its place.  The Ent had lowered his arm, picked me up and placed me on his branchy back.  Slowly but surely, he began to walk around the dark forest in search of the others of his kind, gently grumbling away as he told me tales and sang songs.

The Ents were shepherds of the forest and have walked Middle Earth for a very long time. Treebeard is said to be the oldest creature that ever lived. He spoke of the Entwives, Entings and their way of life. The Ents also had a hatred for orcs, in which I shared the mutual disdain. I told him of my misfortune and he empathised and spoke to me of his.  
Finally, reaching the other end of the forest, we were surrounded by more of his kind.  

Day by day, the tree-herders observed me and watched me grow. As the days passed, so did months, and then years. Not only was I growing into a young woman, but our fondness for each other had grown also.  Although I was very different and was often called “Wildling”, we entwined as a family. I drank the enchanted waters of Fangorn, which helped me grow and aided me to understand and speak the difficult language of the Ents. Very little is pronounceable with the human tongue. I hunted and gathered with the skill and knowledge passed unto me, though most I feel was instinct and self-taught.

With this newfound family of mine, I often reflect looking into my heart and soul from the heartache, hatred and helplessness that I had endured as a young child. I still carry the strong presence of hatred of the orcs and their kind, though the memories of life before that turmoil seem to fade away over time.

I have discovered purpose, the love of a family and a new way of living. Only faint fragments and memories linger in my mind.  All that is left of my past is the spellbound trinket, a mystery in which another journey of discovery awaits.

I am not and never will be the same person as whom I once was. Terror has given birth to a new spirit and soul. I have explored new ways of life and unearthed the secrets of the forest. From the moment the Ents found me, it was a new existence. This is the dawn of the new age; the time of the Ents has come and I will stand by their side to whatever end that may be.  I… I am The Wildling of Fangorn Forest.

Written by Sage Michael

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