free fenrir

And when the wolf comes one voice breaks the night Fenrisúlfr...................................................... ...................................god of destruction

[freefenrir]

handarvanr:

Arms bound behind his back, the position putting quite a good bit of strain on his muscles, Tyr leaned his head back against the uncomfortably hard headrest of the metal chair they’d chained him to and strained to pick up even the faintest sound despite knowing that nothing of the outside world could possibly manage to penetrate the solitary confinement of his prison. The mortals had been quite proficient with his punishment, suspending him in a world of silence by blocking his access to sight and sound through the means of heavy-duty chains, a thick blindfold, and specially designed ear plugs. And he’d let them do it, the guilt and sorrow he’d endured for so many centuries leading him to turn himself over to the merciless care of the mortals who’d spent so many years trying to find applicable, safe ways to equip themselves with the powers of their non-human counterparts. Even so, he’d voluntarily accepted his fate, allowing himself to be used as fodder for their greedy ambitions—but only on the condition that they would allow Fenrir the freedom to roam as he deserved, untethered to their volition and free to live as he desired. It was the least he could do for a wolf who’d never asked to assume the role of destroyer. He was blameless in all this, a mere product of their pantheon’s paranoia and treachery—brought on by their fear of even the slightest possibility of triggering Ragnarok. 

That very fear would have eventually led to their downfall anyway—if it hadn’t done so already.

Rolling his shoulders—the limitation placed on his movements making that far more difficult than need be—in order to alleviate some of the tension that had built there from days of maintaining that uncomfortable position, Tyr licked his dry lips, wondering how many days had passed since his last meal or drink. The mortals seemed to derive great satisfaction from seeing him wracked with hunger, a state of mortality he would have thought completely beyond him if not for their experiments. Any other god would have been desperate to escape—but not Tyr. 

For him, this punishment was long overdue. 

A more fitting, effective one, however, would be if Fenrir was given the opportunity to bear witness to his current state—something along the line of just desserts.

A reverie turned reality when, all of a sudden, the muffled sound of metal snapping breached the encompassing silence. Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallowed hard, he leaned forward slightly, the chains pulling tighter against his wrists as he turned his head toward the sound. “Fenrisúlfr,” he rasped, easily recognizing that stifled, gruff baritone—if not by voice then by instinct. “The better question is, why are you?” He should have been long gone by now, enjoying the freedom their pantheon had tried so hard to take from him. So why wasn’t he? “You shouldn’t be here. Leave—before they return.” An empty threat; no one had seen fit to visit him in days—not even to gloat. 

But Fenrir needn’t know that.

Fenrisúlfr. He hadn’t been called that in centuries, but the shock of the monstrosity before his eyes overshadowed the pleasure of hearing his name, horrified to see the worthy god blindfolded and bound in chains.  The hairs on his arms stood on end, hands fisting as he growled out a snort. Wanted to lash out, to tear across the room and destroy the interlocking metal keeping Tyr a captive of the chair. To say it was a triggering sight was an understatement, his growl loud enough to reverberate through the room and shake glass, paying absolutely zero heed to the war god’s warning that they’d hear him. “You didn’t answer my question,” he snarled, pulling out his shock enough to close the distance and with an unceremonious tug, tore the heavy fabric free of the face, whipping the blindfold away with such force it sliced the air with a hiss before settling in a heap by the broken door. Icy cores swept over the once familiar man’s face, he wore his facial hair differently and bore a couple new scars but there was no mistaking it, this was Tyr. His nose had been right. “What are you doing here?” He snarled, the edge to his tone angrier than it had been now that the shock had died away. With the cold blue of his gaze locked on the only man who wasn’t afraid of him, Fenrir crouched so they were on level ground, hand immediately reaching for the chains binding ankles to the chair ready to bust through the chain link, but only cold steel met his hand. No trace of magic or binding enchantment. His face contorted, confusion marking his expression angrier than it had been and he jerked his hand away like it’d been burned. “You let them do this?”                                       It felt like another trap to get him chained up all over again. 

                                                                                                      Tyr forever his bait. He jerked to his feet just as quickly, pulling far enough away the partial uniform he wore became starkly obvious. Army pants, army boots, and though he’d forgone a shirt for his late night stroll, around his neck dangled the silver dog tags that marked his place as just another army mutt, and just like a dog collar it symbolized that he was anything but a free man. 

“You think I’m frightened of some spineless firar Tyr? You’ve forgotten who I am.” He snorted, the look of murder boiling in his eyes. “Let them come. Let them try and stop me— ” though stop him from doing what, Fenrir hadn’t quite decided yet. He was going mad by association just hearing the clink of chain, his skin itched like it was his wrists they were bound around.  “At least I haven’t surrendered.”

[freefenrir]

Haven't you ever heard the saying, Don't bite the hand that feeds you? ... Another oops moment for ya?

Haven’t you ever heard the saying, Don’t stick your hand in an angry wolfs mouth? 

No? 

Didn’t think so. 

Someone with common sense wouldn’t ask such a dumb question. 

If you must know, there was no oops about it. He knew what he was sacrificing, unlike you who is about to loose brain cells for asking.

[freefenrir]

@handarvanr

The halls were wide, the ceilings high, and the building itself expansive but the military base still felt too much like a cage. Tiny, like the uniform hole of a room they’d assigned him, but then again it was still four walls and a roof and he’d never done good with that. The freedom to come and go from his room as he pleased didn’t lessen the noose of restraint, he’d much rather sleep outside, and try as he might tonight his eyes hadn’t stayed closed, so he’d fled his bed — after a tantrum with the blanket — and taken to the hallways, empty save the occasional patrolling guard. The first two tried to stop him but his growls stopped them, and the third didn’t even ask. Must have gotten the message. He was halfway to the exit when he caught the scent. Tyr. He whipped around, instinct carrying him in the direction nostrils led, through a door and then another — both within his access — and then one that wasn’t, he tried the door again and it didn’t budge, and he even tried that stupid plastic card they’d given him, the one they’d shown him how to scan against the sensor, but the light didn’t blink green, it flashed red. He tried again, swiping more aggressively, hitting the sensor with the plastic back of the card and when that failed, Fenrir shoved through the door with brute strength, bending metal and snapping hinges till the full width of his shoulder squeezed through the hole. “You,” he chastised half with wonder and the rest surprise. The icy blue of his stare zeroing in on the man responsible both for his capture and survival. No one else had dared feed the chained wolf. Tyr, the sole brave man among thousands. So what was he doing here? In chains? Head cocked in confusion, stride skewed with distrust, Fenrir approached the war god like this was some kind of trap. Eyes narrowed, teeth bared enough the pink of human gums flashed. “Andskoti,” he growled, the rumble low in the back of his throat. “Why are you here?”

[incorrectedda]

I have survived because I know one must be willing to destroy anyone, anything, even the things you love, to keep the gods in check.

Fenrisúlfr, probably. (via incorrectedda)

[incorrectedda]

How can I blame you when it’s me I can’t forgive?

Týr to Fenrisúlfr, probably. (via incorrectedda)

[heathentroth]

Tyr of the Hand bravery’s single light for the sake of Gleipnir’s bands endured the Mad Wolf’s bite

[meritinpu-deactivated20190109]

Mythology Meme — Gods & Goddesses [1/??]

  Fenrisúlfr — Hróðvitnir — Vánagandr [Fenris Wolf] - [Fame-Wolf] - [The Monster of the river Ván]

Hati and Sköll forever chase Máni and Sól, respectively. Though one day they will catch their prey. Then their father, the Fen Dweller, will be unleashed upon the world. He will then begin to devour everything in sight. In the field Vígríðr, is where Fenrir and his brother, Jörmungandr, will finally meet. An immense battle will take place here and in his final moments Fenrir will swallow and thus kill Odin. But in turn Odin’s son, Víðarr, will kill the Great Wolf.

[yngvi-viking]

[facinaoris]

make me choose |

stannide asked fenrir or sleipnir

[warriorsofmidgard]

Tyr & fenrir

[incorrectedda]

Stand amongst the ashes of a trillion dead souls and ask the ghosts if honor matters.

Fenrisúlfr to Týr at Ragnarök, probably. (via incorrectedda)

[warriorsofmidgard]

[queen-of-ashes]

I never asked for power…

[yocalio]

“I’m constantly torn between killing myself or everyone around me.”