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Hela by Kenneth Rocafort

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gulldrengur:

“I’m glad to see you are confident of your abilities.” Baldr replied , as he advance toward her with soft steps and calm manner. “I’m not a thirsty for battle like some of my brothers are, but I’m a great defense against you. — I might not stop you in the end, but I’ll buy time… as much as it needed to be.”  The hounds, were nothing but grotesque and Baldr felt the urge to vomit at their sight, he stopped himself by tightening his grip. His sword gleamed with the light of the sun. Baldr made his stance as soon as he reached the middle ground, a place where both armies would meet.                                         “So, come here then. I’ll make a fine spectacle.” 

the stench of rotting flesh, of bone marrow and rancid fat filled the room, it was the smell of death. it was the smell that made the hell hounds mouths water, and their red eyes gleam, and somewhere, the corpse-chewer was stalking the shores, waiting. she laughed, an evil sound that filled the room like a chorus of souls, and stepped forward, further closing the gap between.

❛ you will not stop me, baldr. you lack the constitution of your father, your brother. you are a pawn in a king’s crown. come, swing. you cannot kill what is already dead. ❜ 

she was close enough to hit, if he took a chance with a shining sword, and she held arms out at her sides, glowing hands extended. the hounds did not move, but breathed their accursed breath, scratching furrows in the floor with black claws.

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I’m not a queen. Or a monster. I’m the Goddess of Death. What were you the god of again?

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Hela by Ming Lee

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gulldrengur:

He did not flinched when she yelled, he did not cast out his gaze at the rage boiling in her, exploding, making the earth shake. Baldr merely stood there in silence until he saw his opportunity to speak again. When she was done the god advanced toward her. Paused steps making his way thought the army, this time his blue clear eyes focused on her. This time he did not look away.  What moved him was not fear not anger, it was pity and sadness. “When he reached the front lines, the god still kept his sword at the open, a tight grip . He would not shake, because behind him His mother, wife and son were waiting, behind him were his brother, his nephews and all what he hold dear. If he has to die to protect them so be it, at least he will buy time to help them escape.         “It’s not fear, Hela. — it’s love.” He ready his sword and pointed toward her.          “shall we begin?.”

love? love? she didn’t know the meaning of the word. didn’t know the nuances of it, the feel of it, the very sound of it was foreign, an assault on her senses. it made the goddess of death steel up, harden, and she fixed baldr with a cold and distant look, like the black bleak of space, where even stars froze. she would enjoy this, rending flesh from bone and darkening the floor with a god’s blood. she hadn’t come here for that, but a beast hungers.

and then she would send the rest of them to join him.

letting her hands relax, letting the magic grow a brighter, eerie green,  she brought them up, and twisted from the ground two skeletal hell hounds, snarling, saliva like acid, made of bone and red, glowing eyes. a lift of her jaw, her voice as icy as her stare. it was too bad odin wasn’t here to see the slaughter.

❛ you think this will save them. it will not. ❜

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gulldrengur:

  He’s the golden child, the golden son. He’ll fight for his people and his family, to bad it’s against HELA,            “It’s not a cage, Hela.” Yes it was and he knows it, and it pains him. Yet he could not dare to disobey the laws and orders of the ALLFATHER. His hand reached for the hilt of his sword, with swiftness it was unsheathed and the blade shined at the moment light hit it. Like a star breaking the heavens, and making any cloud disappear from the sky. His worried face increased with every second, Baldr hated war. His nature was of peace, even though he have trained as a warrior since early age, he knows Hela is strong almost like his own brother THOR, but he’ll not remain idly nor with his arms crossed knowing he could at least oppose to the brutality that it is unfolding.         “Odin has many flaws. We all do.” he said with the saddest of smiles.  “Let us speak in peace rather than in blood. I have known you since you were small. I do not wish to fight you.”

her voice comes out more angry and explosive than she means for it to, and some high windows shatter, but pose no danger to baldr. 

❛ IT IS A CAGE. ❜ she is shaking, trembling with rage, and her fists become clenched again, and the magic grows brighter. but a minute or two later, the goddess of death collects herself with a deep breath. she closes the ghost-white of her eyes and opens them, fixing baldr with a darker stare.

the sword shining hurts her eyes, but she will not back down, she will not be cowed by some golden junk from a golden god. she straightens to her full height, and keeps him within her gaze. baldr is no weakling; his is a strength of love and passion, and though a weak king he proved to be, he would die for those he loved. one does not easily underestimate this kind of loyalty.

bringing her chin up, she is tense, angry. she has felt betrayed and abandoned for thousands of years. and baldr has known her since she was little, a tiny girl, half-skeleton in a tattered dress. even then, unwelcome in the halls of odin, looked down upon, laughed at.

❛ you could not hope to defeat me, baldr. i am made of rage. ❜ her mouth settled in a grim line. ❛ do not seek to commiserate. you saw what your father did to me, and none of you, NONE OF YOU raised a hand to stop him. he tore me from my mother and cast me into the land of the dead because he was afraid. you unsheathe your sword for that very reason. ❜

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Hela by Walt Simonson

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                          It was acceptable in the 80′s.

                                              est. 08.28.12

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       this is the gathering of the dead.         if you liked it, there would be        something wrong with you.        only hela likes it. 

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fangedfirecracker:

oh no, no, no, no. the tension in her muscles, the way she poises herself against a perceived threat is coming across too clearly to the other immortal. it isn’t that jubilee wants to fight, she doesn’t. she knows she’ll lose this one. but her body isn’t the best when it comes to differentiating between fighting and fleeing. both come across as a readiness to spring into action. most couldn’t see the difference until she moved.

❛ i dunno. haven’t seen him in awhile. ❜ the answer comes out as calm as she can muster, but she isn’t afraid to admit that this woman intimidates her at best and terrifies her at worst. any god with a claim over the dead was very much a threat to her.

❛ not lookin’ to fight, no. ❜

for her part, hela did not move, nor was any itch to fight present in her bones. no, it’s arrogance to destroy what is so easily crushed — this city could be brought to ruin without so much as a backwards glance, but to do that would be too easy, no challenge at all. there is a subtle shift in the goddess’ stance, if only to shift her considerable weight from one foot to the other, but nothing more.

❛ thunder usually means he’s near. ❜ it’s her way of explaining the statement, and she cocks her head curiously at jubilee, of the x-men. 

❛ you stand between two worlds, jubilee. of this one, but of the next, and yet not wholly a part of either. norse children had tales about creatures like you. ❜

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,fangedfirecracker:

there was a long pause, an almost baited breath (had she need for such things) as she waited for the imposing woman to speak again. her voice sent chills down the vampire’s spine every time she spoke but the silence was almost worst. she had no idea what the goddess was thinking or what action she may choose to fill the time in between with. she could easily strike the young immortal down, no doubt. jubilee was not ready to die yet.

she tensed at the sigh, unsure what to do. running may have provoked the being and while jubilee valued her existence, running wasn’t really her style either. she couldn’t exactly argue with the statement the being made. it was full of people. and it did stink. but she did blame the latter on her ridiculous senses.

❛ most cities are like that, yeah. ❜

hela’s voice is a like a chorus of a thousand torture souls, an eerie and otherwordly thing, clawed from the throat of an ancient being. and yet it was something recognizable too, and sometimes not too unpleasant to hear. there was a long silence stretched between them, dead and undead sharing a moment of almost tranquility. at the sound of thunder in the distance, a summer storm, hela raised her chin and cast her ghostly white eyes to the sky.

❛ i wonder if the son of odin knows i’ve broken free from my cage. ❜ the thought brings an almost-smile to her lips, a knowing sort of smile. the green sparks continued to dance around her lax fingers. she brought the weight of her gaze back onto the small creature.

❛ you look as if you mean to do battle. ❜

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I’m the god of death.

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@fyeahmyths​ two week summer event day fifteen: Free Day → Hel

The goddess of death and the afterlife in Norse Mythology, Hel is the youngest of the three children of Loki and Angrboða. Ruler of a realm that bears her name, Hel receives a portion of the dead, specifically those who die off the battlefield of illness or old age. The Norse believed that all those who died off the glorious field of war would be denied entry to Odin’s great feasting hall of Valhalla, and would instead freeze for all eternity in Helheim.

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asgardianhammer:

[ ϟ ]—– A scoff escapes him, for there could never be any sort of endearment within her, of this he was certain. ‘ My care, my concern, regards an army. One that needs more souls than it has now…’

❛ you wish to assemble an army made of ghosts? ❜ to be fair and sure and certain, many of the spirits who wandered helheimr were once soldiers and warriors born, cast down to the ninth realm — not good enough for valhalla, but suiting the grey kingdom just fine. ❛ and what do i get in return? ❜