𝐒𝐎𝐔𝐋𝐒𝐓𝐈𝐂𝐄 ☾ 𝐌𝐀𝐓𝐓 𝐌𝐔𝐑𝐃𝐎𝐂𝐊

━𝐞𝐱𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐝 𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲.

𝐒𝐄𝐑𝐑𝐈𝐋𝐃𝐀 never knew the basis of where she stood in life. Born to the Goddess of Death Hela and an unnamed mutant, insanity was all her life was roped in. Being nicknamed the 'daughter of death' didn't help the cause. Growing up in the West Village of New York with her adoptive family, life was easy, especially when your father can read people's minds and change probabilities.

Having a mother that lived in God knows where made it harder. Her uncles barely knew of her existence being hauled up between Asgard and the Avengers Compound.

She was loved and lonely.

Learning to control the voices in her mind that came with her abilities, the 'soul self' as she liked to call it, was never a fun learning stage. For a brief portion of it was spent in the 'Xavier School for Gifted Youngsters.' A school for people like her, a found family, for a piece of herself-the mutant piece of her.

The magical energy that flowed through her veins like poison in a snake. Gifted from her mother she presumed. The gifts didn't stop there, transfiguration was an ability she was most proud of. Telekinesis, telepathy were her strongest but those were from her father's side of the mutant tree.

Material gift wise was given on her 13th birthday, a lasso made of the strongest rope in all of Asgard, her mothers homeland. It had the ability to make people tell the truth if caught in it.

But the most prized gifts in her life weren't her powers or her lasso. It was her best friends, Jessica Jones and Trish Walker. All having met in a bar when a group of assholes decided to pick on the people not their own size.

Jessica being herself mushed their faces into the bar table while Serrilda took the liberty of throwing them out the window. Trish on the other hand gasped in the corner trying to defuse the situation, long story short it failed.

The three spent their night in the nearest precinct huddled up waiting for their families. They exchanged numbers and everything went up from there. The three musketeers, if two were able to lift cars with their bare hands and the other was able to host a radio show.

With them brought the other members of the herd-Malcolm and Adrian. But it also brought assholes like Kilgrave, but alas he's dead so he was no longer a threat.

Her nights were spent patrolling the streets ridding it of city scumbags. The small stuff like bank robbers, the occasional serial killer turned top of food chain boss, and her favorite the gang leaders and their rodents they leave behind adding to the ones crawling in the subway.

Through that line of work she met the 'Devil of Hell's Kitchen' she didn't know his real name nor pushed for it. They agreed on that barrier for their own sake, the whole 'so we don't fall in love' thing which they both desperately failed at.

Her days on the other hand were normal mundane things a demigod could ask for. She didn't have to work as her family was loaded to the brim which she'll forever be grateful for. She spent the bright hours hauled up at 'Alias Investigations' helping Malcolm while pissing off Adrian who lived a few doors down.

Sometimes she liked to mingle in the halls of Hogarth, Chao and Benowitz bothering Foggy Nelson, a recent hire.

Everything was amazing.

But what her 'soul self' failed to warn her about was that it'll all come crashing down on her.