#ragnarot

he didn't mind the first time he died. actually , it was a bit of a relief to be spared from his boredom. the second was even better than the first ― though , he had wished to spend just a moment longer against such a powerful foe. the final blow was never felt , & once again he found himself in a long dark. no light , no sound ; just oblivion.

whatever this was , it felt a bit like someone rousing him from a long , hard sleep. the feeling in his limbs slowly returns , tingling that causes him to twitch his fingers , as though nerves were regrowing in dead flesh. there was a noise finally , a voice that was only vaguely familiar , but not one that could be placed. behind closed lids he sees red ― flesh , blood , but long & flowing like hair. that's right ... he had red hair , didn't he ? lü bu reaches out in an attempt to grab hold , but it slips through his fingers , & like cold rain washing over feverish skin , everything comes back.

the human sits up abruptly from his dead sleep , expression blank , blinking the bleariness from his eyes. alive again , then. gaze lifts , the shape of a red , burning god. thor ... ah , now it all makes sense.

HE WANTS A REMATCH !

ODD, for a human ; eyes that lacked homochormia, and a smile that seemed so wide, his face ought look like revered DAHLIA'S, yet - yet.

"---Yes."

-> They don't hesitate. The cold winter's night in their stare pulls directly from their disgust with him; how unmerciful was the god who so often had gentle hands and gentle words for the dead, their bitter callousness retained for only one soul. They stare him down without fear because death was not the worst end which could become them ( there will always be an angry man in their home. their home is their chest, their ribcage buried in a tree hollow; their home is the shallow grave of all the bodies he has robbed. )

"I want to see you defanged and clawless like an old cat. I want to see you hopeless to sate a single vice, alone in a dark room, for an eternity."

-> Their hands clench the worn wood handle of their scythe so tight their knuckles pale. They grit their teeth, hunch their shoulders---his eye hangs pretty on a chain from their neck.

“i heard there’s this one lady in the royal guard where i’m from. she makes real good food, and lots of it.”

PROMPTS. resident evil: 4 remake starters. [ accepting ]

baba yaga castle was not only the home of the spider witch herself, but to all of whom deem her mother. underground, often hidden from the mortal eye, would it resemble perhaps that of an arachnid nightmare. weaved webbings & children of the spider matriarch herself, encased in her madness.