#helsent

"R.I.P. Quill."

It wasn't to last. There had been screams echoing through the halls of Valhalla as half of its inhabitants disintegrated into wisps of memory. Some left in an instant, others cruelly slow. There was a murmured 'oh bugger' hanging in the air where Fandral had been. Horns were sounded, warriors roared. In despair, Loki watched Frigga sink to her knees, reaching out to him with a sad smile before she was gone.

"Mother!"

He turned to Odin, a plea for answers on his lips, but it was his own name that was on Odin's. After witnessing the loss of a hand, Loki sighed and vanished.

In an instant he was back, but not where he had been. There was desolate, yellow-bone wasteland as far as the eye could see. Somewhere distant he thought he could hear loved ones calling him. Closer by, there were snarled whispers.

A skeletal hand snatched around his ankle and with a yelp, he was dragged through the once solid ground that became as ripples of a muddy pool. Down and down he slipped, myriad monstrous hands drawing on him until at last he dropped upon cold black sand in a land of mist. His clothes were no longer the comfortable robes he had donned in Valhalla, but a copy of the battered leathers worn at the time of his death.

With a groan, he rolled onto his back and looked up into the face of the woman he had condemned to this realm when he had unleashed Surtur on Asgard. Loki swallowed down the terror that staunched his expression.

"Sister."

wanda stopped in her tracks when hela spoke out those words, turning around to look over at her, eyebrows slightly furrowed. she was thankful that the goddess of death had resurrected her when she was buried under that pile on wundagore after taking the shrine down.

❛ you are? i didn't thought that you would.. ❜ the witch's accent evident before she slightly shook her head. ❛ but after everything that had happened, i don't feel like i'm worth being close to anyone, hela. everyone who got, left me.. ❜

taking her reading glasses off, valerie let out a hum and considered if it was a good idea to see hela again after she had watched her daughter. it was a simple favor yet something about the other irked her interest, and it had been a while since she hung out with someone who understood her in some way.

❛ i have some time after school if you want to meet up for some coffee. ❜ she adjusted her hold on the folder that contained her class' homework which needed to be checked. ❛ otherwise i only have time on the weekend. ❜

✉ ・ │ 𝐅𝐈𝐑𝐒𝐓 𝐌𝐄𝐄𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐆・@helsent

❛  seems like we’re gonna be spending a lot of time together.  ❜ (hi! :D)

MERCY FELT A SHIVER RUN DOWN HER SPINE as Hela, the Asgardian Goddess of Death, spoke those words. She had always known that crossing paths with someone as powerful and dangerous as Hela was a possibility given the line of work - but being face-to-face with her was an entirely different experience.

As Mercy tried to find the right words to respond, she found herself captivated by Hela's strange beauty and otherworldly presence. There was something about the way Hela carried herself - so regal and commanding yet alluring in an almost wicked way - that made it hard for Mercy to look away.

" I don't know what you have in mind for us " Mercy said cautiously. " But I'm honoured. Your Majesty " She smiled at Hela, trying to hide the trembling in her hands. Even as fear rushed through her veins, she couldn't deny the sense of awe that came with being in the presence of someone so extraordinary. " Is there anything, in particular, you want to do ?"

Despite the offhanded way Hela says it, there's a hint of bitterness to her voice. Lillian can hardly blame her. Her existence was swept under the rug so that Odin could present himself as a benevolent, peaceful ruler. The All-Father. An ironic title, considering what he did to his first child.

               WHEN  IS  A  MONSTER  NOT  A  MONSTER  -----  OH,  WHEN  YOU  LOVE  HIM.       frost  lining  his  skin  to  keep  away  the  rays  of  the  sun,   but  your  touch  is  soft  like  summer  rain,    and  your  lips  are  red,  red  BLOOD.    (      i  know  you  could  ask  me  for  all  the  stars  in  the  sky  and  i’d  bring  them  to  you.    you  do  not.    you  never  do.    instead,  you  gift  me  six  pomegranate  seeds,  crimson  like  the  blood  you  pretend  not  to  see  dripping  from  between  my  thighs  and  i  wish  i  could  look  up  at  the  sky  and  yell  :  behold,  mother.    my  womanhood.  my  martyrdom.   MY  AWAKENING       )         /        take  the  sunlight  in  the  palms  of  your  hands  &&  swallow  it  whole  !!       she  coils  around  him  like  a  cat,   palms  gentle  against  his  chest,    eyes  overflowing  with  delicate  affection,    ignores  the  way  he  is  so  cold  to  the  touch  it  BURNS  (     would  you  live  for  me  ??     )          “  --------  they  think  you’re  going  to  CONSUME  me.  ”     voice  tinged  with  amusement,    lips  brushing  against  his  cheek,     “  they  don’t  understand.  ”