B R U A D A R A C H

# BRUADCR.

WELCOME !! This is an extremely selective & private independent multimuse for the OCs of my own lore, Norse Mythology & Celtic Mythology.     Alix 21+    Crossover friendly, multimuse friendly, & heavily associated with @runaljod​

A STUDY IN   history, language, northern european ancient myths & folklore, pagan spirituality, family dynamics, the symbolism & meaning of Power & what it is to have it, the humanity of deities, relationships with nature & predatorial animals, kindness in a cruel world, the strength of motherhood & femininity​

CODE OF ETHICS ➙ please read before interacting !!

Þrúðr Þórradóttir & Sif  ➙  main muses Ullr Lokison & Sigyn & Jormungandr  ➙ secondary muses Nora Scott ➙ chaotic oc

THIS BURDEN OF BETRAYAL IS NOT YOURS TO BEAR – the thought bounces against the confines of his skull ; she is too YOUNG to shoulder this burden. Nor would he hold the DESIRE for any, let alone those he holds dear to know and understand the FOREBODANCE of what it means to be SHACKLED and abandoned. Yet in her own way, this is what the nornir have fastened for her … they were ANOTHER he held contempt for, which would be dealt with in due time.

Fenrir cannot remember the last time WORDS had moved him so – for the language of men was not a TONGUE he held dear, nor claimed to have ever SPARKED such sentiment from his core. His devotees spoke sweet words of promise and of DEVOTION, yet it was not like this. It was not so ASSURED and weighted, and there was not so much to LOSE behind their words ( yet the wolf before him stood to lose everything with these claims. and it is a mixture of overwhelming pride, and worry for her fate that grips him ). 

❝ There is NOTHING more powerful than fear, ❞ that was the very concept that had brought him here – CHAINED and seemingly powerless beneath the watchful eye of those who had BETRAYED him. Yet it was also fear that had moved his GREATEST enemy to entrap him so. Fear that still LINGERED, and fear that he would TASTE upon his maw when the end of days befalls them all. Oh, and if he comes to find that Fenrir has CHAMPIONED his own flesh and blood ?? There is no telling how quickly, nor how immensely that fear with AMASS. 

And she …. she had called him king. That is a title Fenrir had given up LONG AGO. And yet she uttered it still. There is no WORDS in the language of men or wolves BEFITTING of the respect she had just bestowed. And it is not lost to him. ❝ And fearful he shall be with such a WOLF prowling his halls, when I cannot. With this, will you be my EYES and ears upon that realm ?? So that I may never be ABSENT the intentions of our enemy ?? ❞ 

The vow that sat upon her bloodied tongue tasted sweet, akin to honey, and the   ANSWER   to this loss of self had been bestowed in the moment’s torturous vulnerability.   For so long now has she been   REACHING   for something which she can be so sure of; something honest and true and real to this aching organ beneath the cage of her boney breast.   Solidity in the selfish want of sacrifice in spite of betrayal.   His are chains she may not have the power to completely   BREAK,   ( not even if she were to sit here and restlessly gnaw on them for centuries )   but she no less abhorred them since their   CONCEPTION.

❝ He will never   ACCEPT   that he is truly afraid. ❞   It dawns upon her, an epiphany of who could be trusted with this tenderness instead of keeping it for herself, and in such an instant, does Fenrir’s own wisdom ring out as she lifts her gaze to meet his.   THIS WILDNESS   had been confused into a deceptive world, believing control aimed to be an empty achievement, when it was only an illusion of binds that disguised itself in the faces of companions and   KIN   alike.

She is more present on social media than expected, mostly on Instagram with her Motorcycles  ( ex: X X X X X )

She runs an organized crime gang, often associated with vigilante work & is usually in cahoots with the police / detective departments

Her 9 vargr are disguised with seidr as wolf / huskies  ( & yes, they are very loud )  but their names are the same

She also runs a dog & cat shelter, since the majority of countries & the US have very little funding or care for their animals, she steps in & more often than not, they end up either on her farm or her mother & father’s farm

HER LAUGHTER IS WELL WORTH THE MORITIFCATION OF HIS PRIDE – and he is thankful at least that he is granted this reward ( if not, death would have been far preferred ). The MELODY is immediately committed to memory, and again coaxes a genuine, radiant smile to the thunderer’s lips. ❝ No – ❞ he’s quick to RETORT, even if it’s a playful lie. If there ever was a time where he stumbled over his words so CONSISTANTLY with another, he could not remember them ( and it was not borne of their impossible circumstance, it was the fluttering of tiny, winged creatures around his core that caused such calamity ). ❝ Promise me you will not TELL anyone, ❞ he adds, mirthful and JUBILANT.  

❝ You can RAISE your feast by dusk ?? ❞ But he cannot be sure if she intends just for the homecoming of their boys, or GENERALLY speaking for their meals henceforth ( but he does not question, he has only just garnered laughter and will not halt that ease so quickly ). ❝ If you INSIST, I only wish for him to be well - fed and content, ❞ especially considering it will be a new PLACE, with unfamiliar faces. ❝ Ah, you will HEAR him cry often, ❞ a fond chuckle tumbles forth as he speaks, and there is no annoyance. ❝ He is a soft - hearted little BUG. And I hope to ENCOURAGE this, he may cry all he wishes, ❞ as long as there was a lesson behind the tears, that is. Thor had been so DENIED the depths of his emotions and precious vulnerability, he would not also take this from his son ( nor any of his children to follow ). ❝ I think they will be GOOD for each other, ❞ and he can only hope that the same can be said, for himself and Sif. 

She shook her head in equal parts disbelief and humor, for she had not imagined the Odinsson to be so   HUMBLE.   But there was more than met the eye, things which she was not allowed sight between the lines of what is to come of them -- not quite yet.   Even her runes were   VAGUE   in their distinctions when asked questions in the midst of the night  ( what is to come of them ??   You must learn patience, they answered, and with frustration she tossed them aside. )   ❝ Hmmm -- no promises. ❞   a dramatic shrug tugs shoulders up to her ears.

that is different, the raven wants to argue. i am not your twin with whom you shared a womb. i should not be privy to such memories … yet at the allfather’s cruel whims, eivor knows far more than she ever needs to. she keeps her mouth shut in contradiction to thrud. conflict over mere words is not what either of them need — they are each unsettled. hackles raised. eivor feels her own sort of guilt, weighing as heavily upon her mind as her curse of infinite knowledge does. i hate it. i hate him. i hate this all. the wolf - kissed empties her horn and sets it aside, wiping her mouth of lingering ale on the back of her arm.

eivor’s first interactions with modi had been in stark contrast to this ( of course there was still pain : the raven had suffered a wound that would have taken her life if not for his healing and attention, but there were no memories. she had not known what she was, then. she was not agonized in this manner … she did not see the miserable, intimate details of his life ). it seems only yesterday eivor had ever thought herself human, but a large number of months have flown by and here she has found herself — growing more and more non - human by the day. learning the harsh lessons of gods she considers her siblings, far older than she. a dawning fear impales itself into her spine like a knife : does their suffering ever end? will mine?

🙶  i will bury it,  🙷          she promises : eivor holds no intent to lie to magni about anything, but it is not her secret to share. the oath will remain fulfilled. eivor shan’t utter a word of it so long as she lives. 🙶  this is not … 🙷          the raven loses her voice for a moment, falling off sharply as a break in her rasp, but it is only fair ! thrud has had a secret forcibly revealed, and now eivor must in turn expose herself, too.

🙶  … this is not the first time i have seen things, and i doubt it will be the last. at first i thought they were mere visions, but only recently have i realized they are— remembrances. not my own. odin’s. i dread to think of what else i will witness in years to come … i want to pluck my own brain from my skull and smash it.  🙷          eivor’s palms come to press into her eyes roughly until she sees splotches of red behind closed eyelids.

🙶  his eyes are my eyes. his thoughts are my thoughts. his … twisted emotions are mine. i cannot discern between him and i. when everything is said and done i want to tear myself apart from the inside out and scrub myself clean of him !  it is sickening ! 🙷    

EIVOR IS KINDRED.   And she should argue she has been since before Magni and her had every crossed the paths in which were yet to be woven by the Nornir, but that is a sentiment saved for another day.   ❝ Bury it ?? ❞   It is not a question of whether or not she has   MISSED   the words of the other, but merely repeats it so it may soak into her mind.   For she has heard such a thing before, but it was by no other tongue than   HER OWN.   ❝ I’ll indulge you in a memory that is mine and mine own alone . . . when I swore my blood to the great Fenrisúlfr, and him I would follow in the throes of battle as my   KING,   just before I had sworn the very same.   But like he had to me, I advise you not to bury it, but learn from it -- ❞   learn from her pain   ❝ -- if you take anything from it, than take the strength it had given me. ❞   Thrud does not claim to be a   WISE   chieftain, certainly not as the King she and her ulfar are loyal to, but this she could pass on in hopes to continue what he had taught her.   She considered her requests simple enough, do not   SPEAK   on it, but neither should the Raven ignore it.

Her ire is reasonable.   Thrud does little to interrupt the frustrations that spill through a clenched jaw, remaining calm as she can despite the burn of   VENGEANCE   taunting the ulfr beneath.   It is stifled with a slow, tamed breath inwards as she contemplates the ways to somehow separate Odinn’s haunting and Eivor’s hjarta.   She is only   HALF   Vanir, her seidr focused on the brutality of ulfhedinn’s battle - wrath and skies fury.   ❝ Well . . . it’d be a terrible loss if you decided truly to   SMASH  your skull, but to each their own, ❞   the chide brings humor in the midst of a delicate conversation, and Thrud cannot keep herself from a chuckle as she brings the horn once more to her lips in another partake of her ale.

❝ I can   TELL YOU   it will not be the last, ❞   she was not one to lie in the face of tragedy, and knew too well the intricacy’s of her grandfather’s cruelty -- just how far he would go had little to no limits at all.   Anything was possible, given his madness throughout the years since her birth.   ❝ Be it I like it or naught, his blood still   FLOODS   my body, once I considered the very same: where does he end and I begin ?? ❞   If she began at all, and she would not   DARE   speak aloud the fear that still remains for such a proposition.   He was still a part of her, for no matter how much she sacrificed herself to herself -- no matter how much she gave to tear herself from him, he would still be there.   ❝ But, like me, you are not alone in this battle, systir litt. ❞