not today, valhalla

We come from the land of the ice and snow, from the midnight sun where the hot springs blow. The hammer of the gods will drive our ships to new lands, to fight the horde, singing and crying, " Valhalla, I am coming! "

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valhallabcund:

@stcrm-breaker

Once upon a time, Valkyrie had held the Asgardian royal family in the highest regard. It had taken her some time to warm up to Odin after Sigmund was killed, but the fact that the Allfather allowed her to see her lover’s soul to Valhalla went a long ways into gaining her trust and, eventually, she’d loved him just as the other Asgardians had. It had been foolish, naive, and shortsighted. She realized too late that Odin was only ever in it for himself, and despite the way his son seemed far less selfish, Valkyrie wasn’t the sort who was quick to believe in outward appearances. 

When she heard of Asgard’s plight, she’d thought the royal family dead. She hadn’t mourned them, though she found she hadn’t rejoiced the way she thought she might. It was a grim,empty sort of feeling, a realization that no matter what became of Odin, his sins remained. 

That didn’t mean she was pleased to see a familiar blonde idiot walking towards her in the park, grinning like a loon. Valkyrie all but groaned at the sight, crossing her arms over her chest as Thor approached. “Thought you were dead,” she told him in lieu of a greeting. “I think I’ll need more wine.”

Thor had not been home in a long, long time. After what had occurred on that planet, the one that he had utterly failed to save even if Jane pointed out how precious those fifty rescued lives were, he had returned to Asgard wishing to speak to his father. He had found that Odin was ‘away on business,’ and so he had returned to the only place he had ever found insight before, and that was Midgard. Jane had been ill, Mjolnir had been given to her without hesitation, and Stormbreaker had formed to fill the gap that the hammer left in his life. Although Thor had no regrets, there were times when he missed his home desperately, and felt as if there was nothing linking him back to the place he had been raised besides the blood running in his veins.

That was why when he spotted a familiar face across the crowd, he was so eager to approach. The Valkyrie were legends, they had gone out in a blaze of glory, and to discover that one of them was still alive had been something akin to a miracle in Thor’s eyes. “The Aesir decided to spare me in this battle, as they have the others.” At her words, Thor grinned even wider. “A great plan! Have you brought liquor to this place of recreation, or should we find the nearest bar? I hear the one on Doom Boulevard is quite enlightening to drink in!”

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kindkara:

Air quotes, otherwise known as Kara’s longtime nemesis. Getting English grammar and syntax was an interesting challenge, but gestures were like running the gauntlet. Kryptonian gestures were ornamental, sacred, and old fashioned; Earth’s gestures were as varied and almost as incalculably vast as their population. Fortunately, Kara understood them by now, and smiled wider.

 “They love Monopoly,” Kara observed, not willing to allow any chances of eavesdroppers discovering just who lurked under a pair of prescription-less glasses and preppy clothing. She and Thor could just talk in code about humans all they liked. “It makes me miss where—where we’re from,” she amended. Asgard and Krypton’s systems of wealth were as different as the sun and the moon, but the general idea was the same. Everyone was taken care of. “Did Mr. Stark win? It’d be so cliche if he did!”

She nodded. Enough exposure to the sun should replenish her energy in no time, but there was no cure for a Kryptonian’s mental exhaustion. “My boss had me editing time sensitive articles all morning. The news waits for no one, he says. I told him it can wait until I get a cheeseburger, though.” Two, actually, but Thor didn’t need to know that.

Thor had spent many centuries battling across the Nine Realms, fighting in order to keep them in line. Of course, he was not currently in Valhalla, and that meant that from time to time he needed to set Mjolnir - or Stormbreaker, as the case was now - and take a break. Those were the moments that he cherished in his memory, the moments that he knew one day would govern his actions as the Allfather. Learning about other cultures, getting to grips with their languages, fascinated him, and Kara seemed to be adjusting to Midgard just about as well as he was.

“I do not quite see the point of it, myself,” Thor admitted. “Investment potential was not something that I often considered on my home planet. It gets the conversation and drinks flowing, however, and so I can see something of the benefit.” Midgardians were strange at times, did not find enjoyment in a week long feast as much as Thor would. They saw it instead as a challenging marathon. “Many things make me miss my homeplace,” Thor said, smiling softly at Kara. “What reminds you of where you come from?” Thor laughed, but he couldn’t lie, so he nodded sheepishly. “Of course, he had Miss Potts on his team. Barton argued that was unfair, but apparently, what is his is hers, or something.”

Journalists were something similar to Asgard’s storytellers, but there were key differences. They tended to prefer facts than regaling tales of great heroism, exaggerated or not. “Were there any articles of interest?” Thor asked. “It seems as if there is a great amount to write about, but perhaps being in isolation like this is cutting off some of the intriguing stories?”

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mjolnirmade:

@stcrm-breaker

Thor had not made countless allies in her time as a superhero, although Jane hadn’t bothered attempting to grow close with the Avengers or the Fantastic Four whilst she was in her armour, Mjolnir in hand. Perhaps if she had, things would be different now that Doom had released the list and Jane was attempting to uncover a solution. Her immediate impulse, likely fuelled by the powerful hammer in her hand, was to attack the president and force him to admit that he had intended to release private information. Jane was not a naturally violent woman, but the more time she spent with Mjolinr, the more she had noticed slight changes in her demeanour. Once she had fought against that immediate inclination, Jane slowly began considering alternatives, like holding a press conference where every popular hero could speak their peace. Unfortunately, civilians were unlikely to listen.

Ultimately, after flying across the small expanse of New York City several times, she was landing on the Avengers Tower rooftop, patiently awaiting Thor’s arrival. Perhaps it was due to their history or their connection through the hammer, but Thor was usually aware when Jane arrived. Shortly after, he joined her, and Jane, dressed in her armour, turned to face him with a sigh. “I want to fix this,” she informed Thor, not bothering to hide her anger and distress. What Doom had done was a gross betrayal of trust and it angered Jane endlessly. “I’m not sure how we can fix the civilians’ opinions, but there’s surely a way. Do you have any suggestions? I’ve been brainstorming alone for hours.”

Mjolnir still called to Thor, even when she was being wielded by someone else. It was more of a whisper than a battlecry, but it pulled at his chest, encouraged him to actively seek her out. It seemed that connection was emphasised when the wielder wanted to meet with Thor also, but the technicalities remained up in the air the grand majority of the time. Nevertheless, Thor doubted he would ever turn down the opportunity to meet with Jane, especially when she was in her full armour, exhilarated from the flight. “Jane,” Thor said with a wide smile as he stepped onto the roof of Avengers Tower, and before he could get another word out, Jane was already demonstrating her rightful indignation.

“I know you do,” Thor said immediately, hands going to rest on her arms as he looked at her, a minor attempt to calm the storm within her. It would prove impossible - Jane would not be Jane without her anger on behalf of others. Her empathy extended to all aspects of her life, after all. “You would not be yourself if you didn’t.” Midgardian politics occasionally appeared to him as insignificant, but in this regard, Thor knew it was an important issue to remain strong in regards to. “People’s trust was betrayed today,” he said. “The way that Doom acted reminded me of my father. Odin is a great king, but the actions that he takes at times are not what I would have chosen.” Thor paused, thinking over it for a moment. “I have found that many things have a tendency to get better with time,” he said. “Civilians become more inclined to listen if their anger lessens. In the meantime, though, people are in danger. By protecting the unlisted, we would be making our stances clear.” Midgardians, even those who were unreligious or prayed to other deities, seemed to respect the views of demigods, at least to an extent.

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twelvepercentpepperpotts:

Things weren’t looking good, even with this newfound supply. Pepper hadn’t had a chance to look over any figures, but even if there was enough food to sustain their city for a hundred years – they were still trapped. In a dimension populated by demons, their real world almost utterly unprotected from superhuman threats. The dangers had never been higher, but Thor had an aura about him that made it easy to take a breath, to relax, even just for a moment. He seemed so imposing at first glance, but once he grinned, you knew. He was more like a teddy bear than a grizzly. (Though certainly, he could hit as hard as one.)

She laughed, bright and merry. “I don’t know. I haven’t checked on the value of gold recently – and I’m not so sure it applies here anymore,” she added, knowing the economy could be a step away from utter collapse. They were desperately trying to stuff their fingers in the cracks, but eventually the dam would blow unless they fixed this. “Clint has good ideas – from time to time,” she said, the teasing note in her voice belaying the joke. “It’s more a palliative than a cure for our problems, but it is something,” Pepper said, trying to stay positive. “Hopefully, that’s enough until we really are victorious. Tell you what,” she said, turning to him. “When we get home, we’ll have a real victory feast. Asgardian style, and we’ll host it at the Tower. Just for us,” she said, smiling gently at him. 

So many believed themselves to be the paragons of all knowledge, to hold within them all the experiences that they could possibly garner in their lives. It was not a trait that was unique to Midgardians, but in their case it was particularly ironic. Odin had always said that Midgardians were but a fleeting moment in the Aesirs’ lifetime. They had a hundred years, where the gods had thousands. What they lacked in time, however, they more than made up for in actions, and that was why Thor respected them so intently. Pepper Potts was definitely a strong representative of her kind, and she was capable of putting up with Stark for a significant period of time during the day. That alone was worthy of a prize, truly.

“When we are released from this prison, you should make a point to do so. I would be very interested to know what the value of the Asgardian vaults would be in Midgardian terms.” The differences between cultures, between worlds, had always fascinated Thor. It was an interest he was indulging more and more recently. “Are you sure that Midgardians would be able to handle it?” Thor asked, but there was a teasing smirk on his face that proved he was not intending to be offensive. “Our feasts last for a week or more in the wake of a great victory. It does seem to be a great plan, however. The Captain I am sure would enjoy the Asgardian mead.”

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the-fire-that-burns:

Tricking Thor and then seeing the–rather painful–consequences of doing so would never truly bother Loki, but speaking of their mother would. He kept his face neutral, not wanting to let on that Thor was throwing him off by mentioning Frigga. She would not have condoned Loki allowing his family to think him dead. The first time he had done so, he knew it had upset her. Had she still lived, would he have done so again? Loki could not say. At any rate, he did not wish to discuss her quite real death, especially not with Thor. “I’m sure there was not much to say for my eulogy,” Loki commented dryly, “It was surely more akin to the dumping of a burden rather than the passing of a hero, so I doubt you truly wasted much effort on it." 

In truth, Thor surely had mourned him, but thinking that his brother actually still cared enough for him to do so was something else Loki did not wish to dwell on. He had at least put one thing over on Thor. Loki had not been on Midgard the entire time; he was, technically, still ruling Asgard in Odin’s guise. But having been cut off from the Realm Eternal, he was currently throneless once more. What was transpiring in Asgard without his great leadership, he could only imagine. The place would probably be in complete disarray when he returned. Either way, that was yet another thing not to discuss with Thor. "I have not been on Midgard the entire time. Now, however, I have no choice but to remain in this city. Which is quite awful–I could have thought of plenty of other realms where I would rather have been trapped than this one.”

As Thor finally released him, Loki’s confidence came back a bit more. “That is not even on my list of priorities,” he said with a nasty smirk, “The entire existence that I knew before was a sham, so why should I feel the need to continue to force interaction with any part of that sham?” Once again he thought of Frigga, and though he mourned her, she was the only part of that existence he truly cared about. With her gone, Loki had nothing to miss about his old life. He very nearly chuckled at Thor’s declaration that Odin would not be surprised to learn he was still alive. The Allfather already knew that–at least, he had known it for a brief moment before Loki had put a spell on him and wiped his mind clean. “Oh yes, I’m sure he will not be surprised.” Thor’s continued tirade only became more hilarious as he detailed how he would bring Loki before the throne. To do what–put himself on trial before himself? That would be a sight to see, and once again he nearly laughed at the thought of saying his peace as himself and then running over to the throne to reply as Odin. But of course he could not tell this amusing scenario to Thor either.

“Ah yes, I am so lucky to be trapped in a part of Midgard,” Loki replied, quite sarcastically, “I would not expect you to advocate for me. Why continue to pretend that you still care? Or indeed that you ever did care about me?” The idea of him going to Valhalla was ridiculous. Thor would think that a worthwhile goal, but Loki did not. “What, so I could participate in glorious battles for eternity? Do you think that would be even remotely appealing to me?” Was it all an illusion? His death had been, but not his intervening for Thor. But for the umpteenth time, Loki would not admit that. “Naturally. Did you actually think I cared enough to die for you? Perish the thought. I would die to save a bilgesnipe before I would die for you.”

There were few beings in the world that could truly understand the weight of being an Aesir. The Nine Realms were bursting at the seams with creatures that were insanely powerful, more than they were truly capable of controlling, but that didn’t make them gods. There was something to be said for the Asgardians, perhaps because of their esteemed history, their prowess in battle, or the loyalty they possessed towards their way of life. Sif had always been the Goddess of War through and through, the Valkyrie had been loyal to Valhalla until they were escorted through the gates of that world themselves, and his brother would always and had always been obsessed with chaos and mischief. A part of Thor had always believed that Loki was worth more, that there was endless potential locked within him and his power, but again and again his brother proved otherwise, undermining the love that he had once professed to have for him.

“I had plenty,” Thor replied shortly. “A thousand years’ worth of regard, Loki, that is what I gave to you. You died in the service of Asgard - you died in the service of your brother. As far as I was concerned, that would have brought you to Valhalla.” And, finally, to peace. Loki had ended many humans’ lives, had subscribed to Odin’s belief that Midgardians were nothing more than ants to be extinguished with the utmost prejudice. Thor had seen things differently, but he knew how strong those beliefs had been instilled. That was why he still had hope for his brother, hope that tonight seemed destined to disappear entirely.

A muscle in Thor’s jaw twitched. “I can think of many other realms I would have preferred you be on as well,” he said. “Midgard comes under my protection now as much as it ever has.” There could be no more reason for Loki to feign his death than as part of a much greater plan. Thor was determined that this time, he would not have the wool pulled over his eyes for as long as he had in the past. “You call everything that you had with us a sham?” Thor repeated. Loki continued to surprise. “Our mother’s love, that was false? My regard for you, nothing but a lie? Do you honestly forsake everything that you had with us, because of a secret that our father kept?” There were others, no doubt, that Thor would probably never know of, things that Odin would take to his grave. “You know what our father is capable of, and yet you are not afraid of his retribution? I took you for a lot of things, Loki, but never a fool.”

Frigga had always said that Loki was the more perceptive of the two. Thor charged into situations unwittingly, acted as rashly as his father had before him, and for all intents and purposes had once been a replica of the Allfather, primed to take the throne and use it just as Odin had. Loki was the one behind him, suggesting that they took a different approach, protecting him with his magic. Those were in the days when they were thought to be blood brothers, though Thor did not care. He knew the blood of the Aesir flowed through Loki’s veins, Frost Giant or not. “All of your tricks and ploys have blinded you to a truth that was never in question,” Thor said. “I adored you. I thought that we would fight those glorious battles together, as the prophecies foretold. Clearly I see that I was wrong about this, as I was wrong about so many other things in our youth.” Thor took a step back. Behind them, the party had already resumed as it had been before. So quickly Midgardians forgot. “You have made your position very clear,” Thor replied, “so I must wonder then if your only purpose for approaching me is to mock the love I once had for you?”

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exposed-likeanerve:

Bruce didn’t really have any memory of suggesting that they stop for pizza. He’d been focused on getting out of the party as fast as they could. When things had started to go south, he’d tried to stick near friends. That much, he was certain of. He wasn’t going to ask how that had translated to getting pizza, particularly since the food seemed to be settling the churning in his stomach. Of course, it didn’t do much for his whirling thoughts, but that was to be expected. Pizza wasn’t a miracle cure for betrayal. And that was what he considered this - a betrayal. He’d gone along with this thinking that it would make people safer from his angrier alter-ego. Instead, all that seemed to have happened was that he’d put himself into more danger than before.

Thor’s question came at the opportune time to distract him from his circling thoughts. “I think you might actually have more experience with our parties than I do,” he pointed out. “Outside of Tony’s, and tonight, I don’t think I’ve been to a party in…years.” Even then, he tried to avoid as many of them as he could on principle. And then, just like that, they came back around to Doom, and tonight’s fiasco dressed up in black tie. “I don’t know what problem he thought this was going to solve,” he said slowly, “but whatever it is, I think he’s made a bigger one for a lot of people.” Himself included.

Midgardian politics entertained false faces far more than the Asgardians ever would. Thor had assumed when he first arrived that their power structure would be much the same, with a single face at the head, their wisdom making the final decision as his father had. He had found that was very much not the case. Midgardians debated everything. It seemed very confusing in its inefficiency, but as the years progressed, Thor began to realise that there was something to be said for diplomacy. His father was not, as he had once believed, infallible. Neither, however, were the politicians that ruled over the Midgardians, or the man that they had voted into power.

Bruce had signed the list, and surely that was for similar reasons as Natasha or Tony had, to show that he was willing to help, to be open and upfront, to be accountable for his actions. Thor could understand that. Of course, that didn’t stop it blowing up in everyone’s face. “Each one of them is disappointing,” Thor said, aiming for something like comfort, “at least compared to my homeplace. You would very much enjoy an Asgardian fair!” Thor paused for a moment. “Perhaps not, actually.” Thor hummed as Bruce spoke, partly because he was in agreement, partly because he was enjoying the pizza very much. “He was trying to exact his will, and force the people who have not signed into doing so,” Thor commented. “It is a tactic my father has employed many times, to great success. At least, what he considers to be success. Midgardians think differently about one person being in charge, don’t they?”

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hcwkguys:

There was an air of uncertainty hanging over the party, like everyone in the city was holding their breath. It was understandable, he figured, with everything going on. People weren’t sure what to expect, weren’t sure if the demons were going to attack the party or if some other terrible thing was going to come out of the wasteland or if everything was going to go fine and entirely without a hitch. (Clint was pretty sure the last one was impossible.) Thor, at least, seemed cheerful, and Clint was glad for that. The guy was always a riot, always fun to be around, and Clint was sort of relieved he’d found him here. “Yeah, that’s probably on me,” he admitted with a laugh. “If there’s one thing I’m good at, it’s makin’ a dent.” He snorted at the comment, shaking his head. “Maybe I was bitten by a Moloid. Those things are mean as hell.”

The mention of Doom had him looking around until he’d caught sight of the President, hovering at the edge of the stage and clearly planning something. “I’d say he looks physically constipated, too,” Clint commented, raising a brow as the man in question took stage. “Maybe that’s what he’s gonna announce!” It wasn’t, of course, what he announced. It would’ve been too easy for Doom to show up on stage to ask if anyone in the crowd had a laxative, and the lives of New Yorkers didn’t seem to be compatible with ‘easy.’ “Well,” Clint observed as someone shoved passed him, causing his plate of cheese to fall to the floor, “this blows.”

Thor was in the privileged position of having over fifteen times the lifespan that most humans would ever manage, and that meant that in his time he had learned many lessons. This past decade they had been almost exclusively about himself, but before that he had travelled the Nine Realms, had fought to keep them in order, and learned about their culture and people as he went. He had more experience with other dimensions and planets, therefore, than most, yet here he was, utterly baffled as to how Midgard could have been displaced so thoroughly. The motivations, as well, seemed vague to him, but few of the Avengers’ villains truly made sense to him. “So you admit it was you who did that to Stark’s car!” Thor said, with something like glee. “I knew it was not me! I had only three glasses of mead!”

Thor snorted into his drink, but didn’t manage any more laughter after that point. Doom continued to speak, and people broke into chaos. “I am glad to see a good mob mentality exists on Midgard as well!” Thor announced, unsure whether he was enthused about a similarity between this planet and his own homeworld, or disappointed. “Do not fear, Clinton,” Thor said, stepping up to his friend. “I will protect your small, fragile body from these angry people. If I did not, Natasha would be very angry at me, and that is truly more terrifying than even the Goddess of Death herself.”

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panthergcd:

T’Challa had been raised a religious man, and though he may not practice as dutifully as he once had, he still believed in the things his father and stepmother had taught him. He believed in the gods and goddesses of his father, spoke to Bast frequently when he found himself faced with doubts or uncertainties. Meeting a man who, by all rights, was a god had certainly been odd. He hadn’t been sure what to expect from Thor, but what he got had been surprising. The god was hardly stuffy and overly formal, spoke nothing of smiting those who had wronged him. Instead, the man was funny. He was easygoing, he was fun to be around. He was a friend, T’Challa hoped.

That wouldn’t change after their sparring session, he knew. He’d seen the Asgardian spar with many of their teammates, seen him lay some of the more overly confident, wholly human Avengers on their asses and invite them out for drinks afterwards. Thor was a lot of things, but a poor sport didn’t seem to be one of them. He was neither a sore loser nor a sore winner, and that would make their session more fun than stressful. T’Challa found himself looking forward to the workout. “Then we will fight, my friend,” he promised, smile widening slightly. “The loser can buy the winner’s drinks.” If he lost – which, in all likelihood, he would – T’Challa had no doubt that he’d be footing a significant bar tab. Fortunately, he was very well off. If anyone could afford to match drinks with a god, it was a king. “They are,” he confirmed, smile faltering a little at the fact. He missed his people dearly, but Thor was right; his family was more than capable of holding down the throne in his absence. “Stark has reason to be impressed. Just before New York’s separation, my sister sent a new design over. I don’t think Stark has stopped thinking of it since.” There was no shortage of pride in his tone at that. Shuri’s mind was incredible, and she deserved to have someone brag on her. (Preferably when she was not around to hear it.) “I’m sure this situation cannot be easy for you, then. I don’t suppose you have any insight on how we might resolve it?” It seemed worth a shot. Thor’s manner of thinking would doubtlessly differ from any Midgardian’s point of view.

The Avengers had great weight on their shoulders, they had an entire planet to protect, and a valiant species to protect. That being said, few on the team truly understood what it was to be a ruler. Thor himself was not a king, he had made the executive decision several years before that for all he had learned in the past decade, he was a better prince and man than a sovereign, but he knew enough growing up in that environment to realise the importance of sacrifice. To know that sometimes the best decisions to make were the ones that were the hardest, that prevented you from sleeping at night. There was a reason why a wiser Thor hesitated when a younger, arrogant Thor did not, and that was knowledge. That was understanding.

That understanding only made him respect T’Challa all the more. He was not ruling over the Nine Realms, but he was preserving peace between his country and the outside world, balancing tradition with progress, trying to fulfill the legacy that his great father had left behind. Fighting alongside him, as well as sparring with the man, was an honour, and it was something that Thor looked forward to. Nothing was as glorious as a battle well fought, after all, and he knew that T’Challa would reach the halls of his version of Valhalla when he passed on. There would be no question. “I would be concerned about bankrupting Stark if I did not know I would win,” Thor replied with a grin. Being cut off from Asgard meant no gold reserves, but Stark had been more than amenable. He had no choice! “I will even leave Stormbreaker out of this, to make things fair for all concerned.” Some friendly competition was always welcome, especially when memories of family were concerned, and when they remained like ghosts. “There have been situations such as this before,” Thor said, “but they have been temporary lapses. A Sorcerer, perhaps, experimenting further beyond his own reach, or merely a case of wrong place, wrong time while the planet was in orbit. This, though, seems to be far more deliberate. We find the person behind it, and we can end this threat once and for all, and return to our people.” Thor paused. “There is one thing. The person responsible would most likely have to remain within the city. It would take a great deal of power to control something of this magnitude on another plane.”

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flyboylantern:

@stcrm-breaker

“Is it just me, or are these things getting more vicious?” Hal huffs as three more demons start stalking towards him, apparently looking to avenge their fallen comrades that just got mowed down by Hal’s green gatling gun. He doesn’t exactly feel sorry for them, as far as he’s concerned they are standing in between him and Coast City, the sky and the stars and everything he holds dear. Definitely falls under the “those who worship evil’s might” category, if you ask him, and besides–he’s always operated under what the Guardians don’t know won’t hurt them. 

He breaks the construct of the gun and goes for something more personal, a classic green light sword–but he doesn’t get the chance to use it before a huge–ax? Is flying past his eyes and into the chest of one of them. “Hey buddy, nice aim but I totally have this–” He starts saying, but proceeds to trip over one of the bodies near his feet when he sees just who exactly is wielding such a weapon. 

“Thor, you are Thor and I am definitely Green Lantern, thank you for that–by the way.” He says in quick succession, immediately flies to his feet. He can’t help but hear Carol’s voice in his head, her bell like laugh followed by “Such a gay disaster, Jordan.”

There were few things more satisfying than swooping into battle, Stormbreaker raised, yelling, “For Asgard!” just before one of his foes fell, the first of many. Midgard was a place that Thor felt deep affection for, but that wasn’t to say that it wasn’t an extremely small place at the best of times, nevermind when it was reduced to a single city floating in the middle of a dimension yet to be determined. Thor needed to find his entertainment where he could, and that involved besting as many of these demons as he possibly could. They continued to spawn, relentless in their quest which was also yet to be determined, but he was not easily dissuaded.

When the man who had already been battling the creatures fell to the ground, Thor furrowed his eyebrows. He landed with a soft thump on the pavement, moving over to see whether his prospective companion was dead already or not. That would be very disappointing, but not entirely surprising. Then, the man stood up, and Thor saw the green glare off his ring.

“You are of the Lantern Corps!” Thor said, clapping his hand on the man’s shoulder. “I should have known you would not have been felled so easily! From what I saw, your battle prowess is something to be admired.” Thor raised his hand then, calling Stormbreaker back to him. “Shall we continue to battle that which you ‘totally had’?”

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the-fire-that-burns:

And that was what Loki got for attempting to be polite–being manhandled and pushed against the bar. If he was not already groaning from the unceremonious assault, he would have groaned at his brother’s typical stupidity. “Ah yes,” he muttered, “The warm greeting I should have expected.” He frowned at Thor, rather insulted that he had initially assumed him to be an impostor. Did the oaf actually think anyone in this city could imitate Loki that well? Perish the thought. “Really brother, who besides myself would dare to approach you in my guise? Clearly I should not even have done so if that is the reaction I receive.” Loki had certainly not expected a hug, yet he had hoped the mortals’ presence would stay Thor’s hand. Well, that had been much less…exuberant than the Thunder God could have been, so Loki supposed he should be glad.

“I think I am being unduly roughed up when I have done nothing to merit it,” Loki shot back, glaring at Thor, “Well, recently, that is. If you wish to accuse me of having a hand in the displacement of the city–as your dear friend the Solider already did–I assure you my hands are clean. Moving Midgardian cities about is very low on my list of priorities.” For once, there was no trick involved. Loki had approached with no disguise and no ulterior motive, and the meade was completely real and would not vanish if Thor tried to drink it. “You always assume the worst of me, do you not, brother?” In all fairness, Thor had every right to think the worst of him, considering the very reason for his anger was due to Loki having faked his death…again. At least he had lessened his harsh grip, and Loki breathed a quiet sigh of relief that both he and his fine suit might yet escape excessive damage. “I suppose I am,” he said, offering Thor a smirk, “What can I say? It is just too dull to stay dead. Forgive me for not having informed you sooner, but you have not exactly been easy to reach. And judging by your very welcoming reaction, I think you can see why I chose not to.”

Thor had come on leaps and bounds in the past few years, but that didn’t mean that centuries of a hot temper and more than a little recklessness disappeared entirely. In moments of distress or high emotion, it jumped right back into action, and Thor often had to actively attempt to dampen it down. When it came to his brother, though, he wasn’t even going to try. For all of his mischief, all of his acts of evil, Loki had maintained a place in his heart, though Thor was loath to admit it. If someone was disrespecting his memory, they would pay for it, regardless of the Midgardian party. As it was, the only person disrespecting anything was, as usual, his brother in the flesh. “What other greeting could I offer?” Thor asked, eyebrows furrowed. “Our mother died, Loki. She was killed by Malekith, and you allowed me to mourn for you also? While you were here, on Midgard, the entire time?” How had Loki hidden himself from Heimdall’s gaze, from the Allfather’s knowledge?

Loki had died in his arms. The last time Thor had seen him, he had felt as if for all the years they had fought each other, they had finally reached something resembling peace. Yet, here they were again, playing the same old song and dance. Loki would never change. Thor let out a grunt, letting go of Loki’s lapels, though not without a bit of petulance added to it. The onlookers relaxed slightly, but remained wide eyed, looking at the two in a stupor. “Is it higher or lower than keeping your existence a secret from the very brother that fought alongside you?” Thor asked. “I always assume that which you prove to be true, Loki. Father will not be surprised to hear of this.” Of course, Stormbreaker could not bring him home now. They were in another dimension, and to open the Bifrost would be tantamount to a death sentence. “You are so lucky we are in this prison right now,” Thor said, “or I would bring you back before the throne once again. This time, I would not advocate for you as I did before.” Perhaps Frigga advocated more intensely, but Thor had put his word in, too. “Too dull to die a valiant death? You would’ve gone to Valhalla. Was it all an illusion, brother? Everything you did?” Wow, he was a dick. Barton was right!

[stcrm-breaker]

@exposed-likeanerve

Just as Thor had been lamenting on how disappointing Midgardian parties were in comparison to Asgardian celebrations, at least those that were not held at Avengers Tower, things got exponentially more interesting. Unfortunately that was not due to entertainment being provided or new guests arriving, but instead due to Doom’s betrayal of the people that had trusted him enough to sign with them. Thor was not in the business of saying ‘I told you so,’ but the temptation was definitely there, which was the reason why he had vacated the party with Bruce before he came in contact with another person who had signed on. That was kind of him, he deduced.

“Is this what Midgardians typically do after a party?” Thor asked, holding up a large slice of New York style pizza as they walked down the pavement of Doom Boulevard. The memories of their president could truly never be far from their mind. “After one of Stark’s celebrations, I typically fall asleep on his sofa, but this is very nice as well. What do you think of Doom’s actions tonight, Banner? You are as much a fan of authority as I am, so I’m told.” Bruce Banner was a man of science, and a man of distrust. Thor could understand it, given the history that his teammate had experienced.

[stcrm-breaker]

ofelements:

Attilan hadn’t been entirely isolated, though the inhumans had been careful about what connections they fostered. They were created by the Kree to be an army, and when the inhumans had been exactly as the ancient aliens intended, they had been abandoned and left vulnerable. The moon was an excellent home to then, but the inhumans had always been aware what a weak sanctuary it truly was. There was no guarding their presence, no guarding their home beyond trained warriors, but luckily, the Prince of Asgard had been fond of them. Crystal’s relationship with Thor was truly one that she had always craved due to Medusa’s neglect, although his affection had never made up for Medusa’s harsh criticism. Still, it was a relationship she was grateful for, and she adored Thor like a brother.

“There’s a lot of homeless people in New York,” she observed. It was something that Crystal had noticed during her original visits, a surprising and strange revelation. Crystal hugged Thor back tightly, a smile on her face. “That sounds dramatic,” she observed. “Do you think she was just trying to steal your money?” Admittedly, she and Thor were easy targets, still learning the ins and out of Earthen culture. “I imagine that she probably doesn’t. Midgardians don’t have the same beliefs that we do,” Crystal said, shrugging a shoulder. “I’m usually confused to some extent, especially with slang and different speech patterns. Do you think it ever gets easier?”

Asgard’s existence had never been a secret. In fact, it was the jewel in the crown of the Nine Realms, the home of the Allfather, and the training grounds of the mighty Asgardian army. The legend of the Aesir’s creation was shrouded in legends, most of the stories holding at least some element of fantasy to them, as opposed to the inhumans, who had a clear story behind their creation. The perseverance of their people, however, was the thing that Thor respected most about them, closely followed by their prowess in battle. Attilan had fallen but yet here was the People’s Princess, still standing tall, still preserving their people, still fighting for what it meant to be inhuman.

Thor had offered his assistance before, but it was Crystal’s fight, her birthright, and her passion to preserve her people. “I have noticed that,” Thor replied. He tried to cast his mind back, to figure out whether Asgard had the same problem. He couldn’t remember anyone being on the street, but then again, his father had a habit of banishing anyone that posed a problem in the slightest. “The system on Midgard seems to have quite a few failings, but there is a greater degree of freedom here.” Typically, at least. Doom seemed to be changing that in response to the crisis. “Absolutely she was,” Thor said with a smile. “That is alright. I have plenty to share.” Thor nodded, thinking over it for a moment. “Do the inhumans speak of Valhalla, or someplace like it?” There were many things he knew, but given the secrecy of the inhumans, there was even more he did not. “It has become easier over the years. I have many good Midgardians around me that are willing to help. I feel as if we will always notice differences, however. Does that bother you?” It invigorated Thor, but he could head home after everything was said and done. Crystal’s home was in the Hudson.

[stcrm-breaker]

hcwkguys:

At any party, Clint tended to make a beeline for the snacks. He’d always had a hell of an appetite, and if he was going to be forced to schmooze and rub elbows with people who probably carried signs of Hawkeye with x’s through his face, he wasn’t about to do it on an empty stomach. Most of the food available was a lot fancier than anything Clint would usually have access to, and while he wasn’t sure he’d enjoy it – he didn’t exactly have refined tastes – he was going to stuff his face all the same.

He glanced over as someone spoke next to him, face splitting into a grin at the sight of his teammate. Technically, Thor had been the second Avenger he met after Natasha, though the two of them hadn’t exactly exchanged pleasantries at the time. He’d always liked the guy, had told Coulson as much when watching him beat the shit out of Fury’s agents. “I can’t believe you don’t know me well enough to know I already hit up the cheese platter,” he replied lightly. “I’ve been here a few minutes, but not long. Nat’s… Somewhere.” He waved vaguely, trying to remember if his wife had told him where she was going or not. Most likely, she was out looking for answers on the whole Doom situation while he was attacking the cheese platter. “Ha, seriously? I can’t believe I missed that!” He shrugged at the question, pretending there weren’t multiple photos of him kissing various things. “I don’t know why people do that!”

Thor deeply enjoyed attending the various parties that were thrown at Avengers Tower, if only because they were infinitely closer to the gatherings that he took part in often back in Asgard. Home was home, after all, no matter how close Thor felt to the inhabitants of this planet, or how intensely fond he was of them. Parties on his home planet often followed great victories, but tonight felt more like a farewell party, or at least the tone did. Some were having fun, but there was an air hanging over the partygoers that could not be ignored, no matter how many cheese platters Thor devoured. They were partying so hard, having so much fun, because they knew it might be the last chance they had, and that was rather putting a damper on things.

Clint Barton, though, ensured that things were never entirely bleak.  “Of course,” Thor said with a smile, patting Clint on the shoulder with about a quarter of his usual gusto. The last thing he wanted to do was break a teammate! (Again.) “That was stupid of me. I thought I heard someone mentioning a dent in the cheese supply, now that I think of it.” Thor raised an eyebrow as Clint continued to speak. “Your voice sounds like you have been bitten by one of those Moloids,” Thor informed him, “but I can overlook it if it means this party becomes more enjoyable. Doom looks --” Thor trailed off as the man hovered around the stage, stony faced. “Constipated,” Thor settled on. “Emotionally, I mean. Maybe physically as well, I don’t know him, but definitely emotionally.”

[stcrm-breaker]

twelvepercentpepperpotts:

There were few people in the world who could make her smile as broadly and genuinely as Thor. He was the exact opposite of his brother, a shining sun dazzling in every room. There had been some – misunderstandings seemed the polite way to say it – but even those came from such a good heart that they came off as more comical than anything else. 

She was glad to have him here tonight. As much as she was enjoying herself, there was still tension in the air, and standing next to an actual god made her feel a hell of a lot safer. “That depends on your definition of casual,” she said, smiling at him. She nodded towards one woman. “That dress cost nearly a thousand dollars, believe it or not. And the shoes…” Pepper let out a low breath and laughed lightly. She could hear the stress on his seams, but she very politely didn’t mention it. “Thank you. You’re looking very dapper yourself, especially in Midgardian clothes,” she said, beaming at him. “It’s nice to see everyone enjoying themselves, and knowing I have absolutely no responsibility to make sure they continue enjoying themselves,” she agreed with another laugh. “What do you think of it? Must be pretty tame compared to what you’re used to.” 

Pepper was one of the Midgardians that Thor always felt comfortable going to with any queries. There was something of his mother within her, a kind and compassionate soul that was more likely to assist someone with their issues than make fun of them because of it. Stark seemed monumentally happier when she was around as well, in the same way as Thor felt the weight remove itself from his shoulders when he was surrounded by family or Jane in particular, and that meant that Thor was always pleased to see her walk into the Avengers meetings, or join them on games night.

As she moved over to stand beside him, Thor noted from her face that she was sharing some of his hesitation regarding the party as well - or perhaps she simply disliked the champagne. “Only a thousand?” Thor repeated, raising an eyebrow. “What would that be comparable to in gold? Or pelts?” Money had never really been something he had worried about during his time on Midgard. All he knew was that Stark had more than enough of it, and he could live on his dime. People gave him free things all the time, as well. “I was not sure whether I underdressed or not. I am glad that I listened to Clint.” For once. Thor loved Hawkeye, but the man was just as likely as him to get into one caper or another. “Tame is one word for it,” Thor admitted. “It seems quite … muted, does it not? People are trying to have a good time, but I suppose it is hard when we have no victory yet to celebrate.”

[stcrm-breaker]

panthergcd:

Despite the abilities offered to him by the heart-shaped herb, T’Challa trained often to hone his skills. He had been a warrior long before he carried the mantle of Black Panther, after all, and if the day ever came when he was forced to give the mantle up (stranger things had happened), he wanted to continue being such. Unfortunately, his abilities prevented him from having fair fights against most powerless individuals. The power offered by Wakanda’s sacred herb was near godlike in its intensity, and few could truly compare. Who better then, T’Challa decided, than a god to test his skills against?

Thor was a fine warrior, one of the best Asgard had to offer, and like T’Challa, he understood the weight that came with a crown upon one’s head. Thor’s crown was that of a prince, one T’Challa himself had carried for years, but one day he would become king just as T’Challa had. For now, he was just as stranded as T’Challa was, eyeing his weapon with an expression of such sorrow that T’Challa almost wanted to laugh. “I have no desire to avoid a fight,” T’Challa reassured the man with a smile. He had come to train, and he intended to do just that. “I worry for my people in my absence. I can’t say I was disappointed to hear of your presence in the city as well. I have no doubt that Asgard needs you, but I feel New York may need you more. I’ve been here a few months. I think I may have arrived shortly before the city was transported, though I can’t say for sure when we left Earth.” 

When Thor first arrived on Midgard, he had been so preoccupied with his own inner struggles, his inability to lift Mjolnir, and reeling over the fact that his father had quite literally kicked him off the planet for being a reckless fool that he didn’t exactly stop to ‘smell the roses.’ Over the years, that had changed, and he had developed an intense fondness for the little planet. That meant indulging himself in their culture as best as he could, reading through books and asking as many questions as humanly (godly?) possible. Thor found that in ancient cultures, many kings were heralded as gods, and that was rarely the case.

T’Challa, though, seemed to be an exception to that rule, just as Odin was himself. The strength that he displayed was far above an ordinary human’s, and he spoke with a wisdom that suggested he had seen things no one else had witnessed. Thor had seen visions of Valhalla only a few times, but it was enough to confirm to him that the stories he had been told were true. He saw something similar reflected in T’Challa. “That is very fortuitous,” Thor said, matching T’Challa’s smile, “for I am not eager to back down either.” Thor was less reckless than he had been as a younger man, but he was still definitely a hothead. “Your family remains in Wakanda, yes?” Thor asked. “I am sure if they are anything like you are, they will be more than capable of holding the throne in your absence. I hear Stark speak very highly of your sister. Something about tennis shoes?” Stark was often confusing, Thor could not be blamed! “Of course. Asgard has my father, and I have always found my place defending the Nine Realms. Remaining in one place is not in my nature, it seems.”

[stcrm-breaker]

kindkara:

@stcrm-breaker

Krypton may be long gone, smashed to pieces and cosmic dust, but other planets spun endlessly on, spread far and wide across space itself. Starhaven lingered, Kara guessed, and Oa, of course. Daxam likely perished with Krypton, but Xandar and Zenn-La, separated from the destruction of her home by hundreds upon hundreds of light years, remained.

Asgard remained, too, giving Kara the privilege of getting to know one of its inhabitants. Thor Odinson was someone who just…got it, even if the same thing hadn’t happened to him. Losing your home was like nothing else, Kara found, in spite of how long she stuck around on Earth. In a sense, she had joined the world’s growing population of refugees, ousted from places they all knew well, with little to no hope of returning to their old lives. Rebuilding was a slow process, so slow that Kara wondered if she’d ever be over the end of Krypton. 

“Slow day at Stark’s?” Kara asked, smiling as she saw Thor on her stroll through Bryant Park. Her break hadn’t come fast enough. “I didn’t hear even a hint of thunder today.”

Thor had not, contrary to popular belief and the rumours that his brother seemed keen to spread throughout the universe, spent the entirety of his youth beating up Frost Giants and chasing down alien warlords in his defence of the Nine Realms. He had, in fact, spent the thousand or so years that he had been alive to the greatest benefit that he could think of. Some of that involved fighting hand to hand, but there was an infinitely greater proportion of being an Asgardian prince that meant he spent most of his time learning the history of the universe, so that he may better understand its future.

In many ways, Krypton had been what Midgard had every potential to be. It had been technologically enhanced, its people had been fair, humble, and deeply knowledgeable in many areas. The fact that the grand majority of the population was now gone was a tragedy, but there were survivors, and those survivors carried on the grand legacy of hope. Plus, Thor just really enjoyed Supergirl’s company.

“We had a ‘team bonding session,’” Thor replied, punctuating it with air quotes as he had seen Jane do a few times before. “I did not see much bonding occurring, however. We played Monopoly, and Stark threatened to stab the Captain with various items of cutlery. You look a little tired. I assume your activities today have been as uninteresting as mine?”

[stcrm-breaker]

mjolnirmade:

Truthfully, Jane couldn’t imagine how Thor had felt when he surrendered Mjolnir to her, claiming that she was worthy. He had intended the gesture to save her life, and while it was possible, Jane had ultimately chosen modern, Midgardian medicine over Asgard’s magic. She didn’t trust that magic was priceless, and Jane’s comprehension of cancer cures, both modern and natural, was thorough. Thanks to the loss of her mother, she had made a point to study all possibilities, and once the world was in relative peace, she had dedicated time to her recovery. Now that the process was over, Jane was pleased with her health, having made a full (albeit monitored) recovery and Thor was a hero on the rise.  

Without Thor, it wouldn’t have all been possible, and for that, Jane was eternally grateful. She had always known that her ex-boyfriend was truly incredible, kind and giving, but the extent had shocked even Jane. Naturally, spending time with him was wonderful, and naturally, it could also be difficult. Their feelings for one another had been intense and genuine, though she was no longer in a position to act upon them. They were friends and nothing more. Well, that wasn’t entirely true: Thor and Stormbreaker were an incredible team.

“My count is thirty-five,” Jane replied with a grin. It was a relief to be around someone that knew the truth behind her identity, she no longer had to guard her words. As Thor landed beside her, she watched as the lightning faded from his fingertips, momentarily transfixed. “You’ve come so far,” she said quietly, evidently proud of him, though the moment quickly passed. “I’m always happy to show off my running skills,” she replied lightly. “What kind of competition do you have in mind and what’s the reward?”

Thor still remembered the very first time Mjolnir was bestowed upon him. Odin had been sitting on the throne, Thor had been bowing before his father, and Odin had told him that he had forged a weapon from the fire of a dying star. Back then, there had been no oath whispered to it, no conditions of worthiness placed on the creation. It had been passed into Thor’s hand, no questions asked, and he had fought with her by his side for centuries. In many ways, although it felt strange to admit it, it felt something like the grief he had felt for his mother and brother to give up Mjolnir.

The thing that made it even thinkable was the fact that she was going directly into Jane’s hand instead. His father would have a fit if he heard of it - Thor had ensured that the creation of Stormbreaker was done on a star far from Asgard, and prying eyes - just as he had reacted extremely negatively to Thor’s news of Jane in the first place. One of the unspoken laws of being a god was not to fall in love with a human. They were nothing but brief moments in an almost endless life, and that was far from worth the pain. Thor didn’t see it like that, though. He knew even if he could only love Jane for a blink, that would be enough. It would be worth it.

“Perhaps I lost count,” Thor called back, though the justification was weak. “And I will go further only because you are by my side, Jane.” She was the one who had pushed him out of his comfort zone, after all. She was the one who had introduced him to Midgard, and the Avengers, the one who showed him that violence was not always the answer, the one who made him appreciate what he was protecting. “A race around the border of the city?” Thor suggested. “Running is permitted. Flying is preferred. The reward?” He paused for a moment, grin growing in size on his face. “You can pick that, Jane, so long as it isn’t those waffles again. I have never been more disappointed in my life.” He hoped he nailed a serious expression to hammer that home, but he seriously doubted he had.