“Wow-" He instantly holds up his hands, glancing down at the blade at his throat. "Yep, ok, no more flirting. Got it. Will not do."
A sword? Who used a sword anymore? Peter had to admit, it was sort of cool in it’s own vintage-y way. “Not unless….you’re into that sort of thing?” One last attempt couldn’t hurt. “I mean, seriously, that’s a pretty cool sword.”
“Was that flirting?” Such a mundane, Midgardian way to
imply false courtship. ”You’re not very good at it, are you?”
Her lips curled upward in a clever smirk—
”Yes, I suppose you could say my sword is cool.” She pressed
the metal against his throat. ”You may f e e l the steel for yourself—”
She allowed that threat to sink in before
meeting his gaze.
“Why are you here, mortal?
Asgard is not your place.”
Okay, jeez. I’m dead, get over it, a few of us are here and there, it’s not like I’m going to eat your brains…
That should not be. The dead are for Valhalla or Hel. Unless you were unworthy of them b o t h .
Daughter of Thanos—
I heard of your great deeds in Xandar.
Though you served the Mad Titan once,
what you did that day was
h o n o r a b l e
of a place in Valhalla itself.
i am one hell of a woman and you should all be fucking terrified of me