#vclkyriors

[lovesthunder]

@vclkyriors​

Thor’s first Valentine’s Day party experience was.. well, different than expected. Asgardians were no strangers to celebrations but Midgardian celebrations were so different. Not in a bad way, in his opinion at least. Of course he would forever miss his home and everything he had grown used to, but this was his home now. The king had truly grown to love and appreciate this other planet. He had vowed time and time again to protect it and the people that lived here-- now it just seemed permanent. And he liked it.

So far, Thor had been using their ship as his home base. It has flown them all safely through space to get them here, and it was the only place they could still truly call their own. His room was quiet once the door closed behind him and he carefully peeled off his bloodied shirt, revealing the stab wound. It has stopped bleeding, thankfully, but it was about time he cleaned it and patched it up. A scoff of a laugh escaped him as he began wiping away the blood-- how many times had he done this throughout his life? If it wasn’t Loki stabbing him, it was his most trusted warriors. It was surprising, how much Thor cared for her. It was no longer just intrigue and wonder-- it was intense respect and care and small flutters of the heart. But tonight he had really messed up, and he knew it.

Once the wound was clean Thor gathered some bandages and wrapped them tightly around his abdomen, twisting gently around as he looked himself over in the mirror. It had been some time now, but the eyepatch still caught him off guard at times. The metal glint over his lost eye distracted him from the looping track his thoughts had taken, and one hand lifted to trace the edge of the etched metal. So much had changed. He barely recognized himself. But perhaps that was a good thing.

[pquills]

@vclkyriors continued from here

"you know, it's not exactly the greatest of compliments when paired with weak," he grimaces, shaking his head.

[lovesthunder]

@vclkyriors​

Hope was a fleeting thing. It was intense, something to be felt and believed in before it abandoned you altogether– only to come back again and again and again, over and over. Thor did his best to hold on to the hope he felt about finding what was left of his home, his people, his family– everything he had ever known for 1500 years. His heart wanted to believe that all was not lost, and yet it begged him to give up in fear of breaking all over again. He was ready to believe that he was the last Asgardian to exist in the realms. But he held back from falling into that belief as long as he could.

After almost a year, he was truly ready to give up his search. The escape pods were supposed to head to Earth. That was their destination from the start, and it was exactly where they were supposed to safe and start over. Of course, there was always the possibility that they never got here. That Thanos got to them first, that something went wrong.

It was perhaps in the moments when you were at your lowest that the universe saw you, gently took your hand and guided you in the right direction and said: Here, you’ve just lost your way. This is where you need to be.

Stormbreaker had been set aside, his armor placed beside it– an active choice Thor made. He traded his items of war for Midgardian ones, doing his best to blend in while he traveled the planet. Occasionally someone would recognize him but he surmised that the shortened hair and loss of an eye had people second-guessing who exactly it was trekking through the streets around the globe.

It wasn’t until one day he spotted a figure exiting a building down the street– which he had many times, of course, but this time felt different somehow– that Thor felt that little spark of hope reignite in his chest. The figure, who had exited a local pub as Thor had just noticed, turned the corner and he was left following the dark locks that moved with the air and hid the face he had been searching and searching for.

Thor began to follow her, not bothering to hide himself or who he was after.