PP

aspecificskillset:

asgardianthunder:

Natasha. I might have known you would be quick to discover my return to Midgard. I trust you have been well?

Well, you don’t quite go unnoticed.

I’ve been better than I can expect. Still waiting for something to go horribly wrong. 

Such dismal predictions for the future too often result in just such a disaster. Rare though the calm between storms may be, it should be no less savored for it.

metalbreastplatebarbie:

asgardianthunder:

And you. I trust you have kept busy since we last spoke? You have ever brought honor to the realm of Asgard, I expect the same is no less true now.

I have been working with a few Midgardian acquaintances, helping out while I am here. 

I am glad to hear it. Relations between Asgard and Midgard are still infantile at best— such collaborations between our two peoples is just what is needed to establish diplomatic peace.

Anonymous: Do you swing that hammer of yours often? 

Only so often as is deemed necessary by my duty to the Nine Realms.

It was not long ago when my impetuous youth and ignorance would have driven me to strike at anything that threatened my ego. It is only in recent years— since my banishment, to be specific— that I have learned to appreciate the consequences of such reckless behavior.

aspecificskillset:

Good evening, Thor. 

Natasha. I might have known you would be quick to discover my return to Midgard. I trust you have been well?

metalbreastplatebarbie:

asgardianthunder:

metalbreastplatebarbie started following you

Fair Brunnhilde. Too long has it been since our last meeting. 

image

Far too long, Thor.

‘Tis good to see you. 

And you. I trust you have kept busy since we last spoke? You have ever brought honor to the realm of Asgard, I expect the same is no less true now.

youmaythinkyouknowme:

asgardianthunder:

The familiarity of the place brought to him an ache unlike any he had felt in a long time. A heavy pang of guilt weighed on his heart as he considered his love that was split unfairly between two worlds; in his obsession with Midgard two years ago, he had all but neglected his duties in Asgard. Now, since re-assuming that role, he discovered that the time had slipped away from him and the mercurial lives of his friends on Midgard had all but escaped his grasp. Like a footprint in the sand, his place here had washed away to nothing more than a faint memory— perhaps even a dream to the skeptically minded.

Bedecked in the comparatively ceremonial garb of his homeland and his familiar red cape, he quietly retraced the familiar lines of her home. Though as brawny a warrior as they came, the Thunderer was no less a being of contrasts. His strength was made greater by his exceeding gentleness, and the force of his thunder was similarly made greater by the silence of his softest footstep. So it was now that when he came upon Lilly crying in darkness and solitude, his presence went unnoticed alongside the din of the storm.

Unnoticed, at least, until he leaned down from behind her and brushed her hair gently back from her face. A large, warm thumb passed lightly across her cheek, the calloused skin catching her tears as they fell.

“Eyes such as yours were never meant for tears,” rumbled his low, familiar voice. His articulation was strict and deliberate, but made rich by the warmth of his tones. It was a voice the likes of which could charm whole nations.

Lilly’s first reaction is to fly off the table into a crouch with a small knife held securely in the palm of her hand. It wasn’t an impressive weapon, but she knew how to use it if she had to and let’s face it; he’s surprised her more than she’d like to admit.

Must have let her guard down too easily.

Her second reaction, is to stare.

Is that Thor.

Is Thor really standing in my living room.

Is he really fucking right there in my fucking living room. 

For a moment, her heart leapt at his familiar voice, the richness of it filling the room soothingly. She’d had dreams of his voice after he left, some part of her subconscious mind screaming for relief from the constant pain and the constant fight.

Ko, was gone.

Erik was now gone.

Who else was she going to lose? The anger kicks in right after his voice and his words register, and she’s almost spitting with rage. How dare he walk right in here, how dare he catch her crying, how dare he make her feel—

“I’m going to fucking kill you.”

Wait no, she didn’t mean to say those words out loud. She adjusts her fingers around her weapon, watching him with defensive eyes.

“Sorry, I meant what the hell are you doing here, I thought you were gone for good.”

It isn’t the reaction he might have hoped for, but it’s no less than can be expected of her. His eyes crinkle with amusement and his bearded lips twist up into an easy smile as he tests her name in his mind with an almost giddy sort of delight. Lilly. After so much time away from Midgard, the sweet syllables feel like coming home again.

And regarding the fact that she’s set herself threateningly against him—

Well, that’s hardly new.

His heavy brow twists upward in a questioning expression as he seats himself comfortably in a chair across from her, resting Mjolnir on the floor within easy reach. He stares at her for a long moment, the cocky hint of a smile never quitting his eyes, as though to ask her what she really means to do with that knife. It isn’t that he doubts her willingness to use it; no degree of familiarity renders one immune to the tempestuous and violent temper of Lilly Constantine. Rather, he is pleased by the strength of her reaction to him, however averse. It means that somehow, somewhere deep inside she still cares for him. Whether she kisses him or kills him, he considers it far more promising than the apathy she so often hides behind.

"I trust you recall my greatly prolonged stay with Hela," Thor begins, his expression finally darkening. His gaze slips from hers and grows distant— he doesn’t particularly enjoy remembering the time he spent surrendered to death. "By the time I found the strength to claw myself free of her grasp, the Nine Realms were in disarray. I could not abandon them as I did for so long those years ago."

He ventures a sheepish glance at her, knowing the explanation will do little to soften her manner toward him. “I know your disdain for the lines of duty that are bred into creatures of power such as you and I. And I do not expect you to sympathize with the needs of my people— you owe me no such favor. However, know that I had little choice in the matter.” The words feel flimsy and hollow even as he speaks them, and his confidence in regaining Lilly’s favor falters for the first time.

metalbreastplatebarbie started following you

Fair Brunnhilde. Too long has it been since our last meeting. 

fireandash:

IS THOR BACK 

[Possibly maybe~]

youmaythinkyouknowme:

asgardianthunder:

Throughout the day, the summertime air has been still and warm, all but strangling the city. It blankets the buildings and the streets, not offering the slightest refuge from the seasonal heat. And nor will it anytime soon; weather forecasts show a heatwave unprecedented for this time of year, with no hope of change.

In the evening, however, when Lilly Constantine returns home and lets her frustration spill out, there is a peculiar stirring in the night unlike any that has been felt in the realm of Midgard for some time.

It begins gentle as a whisper. A faint breeze dithers through alleys and parks, rustling the leaves of the trees, teasing the sparse night crowd. It’s negligible, almost unnoticeable; it goes disregarded by most. But it builds quickly. The breeze picks up to a full wind. It tousles the whole city now, and dark clouds lined in silver by the bright moon gather overhead quicker than seems natural. Before long, they block out the moonlight completely.

Then comes the rain. Full, heavy drops like tears speckle dirty pavement, and within minutes, the decay of the city is suddenly made lush. The rain brings life; all things are again made clean, and a new sense of vitality seems to roll from the rooftops and surge through the gutters. In the wake of the toiling summer heat, the storm seems more welcoming than ever, as though the water is a divine gift pouring down in sheets.

The windows of Lilly’s home are unceremoniously blown open by the wind, and in the wake of the intrusion, lightning arcs across the sky in wild, violent flashes. Mere moments later, the rich sound of thunder roils across the land. To most, it seems nothing more than an odd summer storm; to those who know better, there is a greater meaning to behold.

The Thunderer is watching, and this is his message to Lilly Constantine.

image

She can’t remember the last time the thunder was so loud.

(Yes she can.)

(She just doesn’t think about that anymore. What good does it do to continue to pull up memories from someone who isn’t coming back?)

The rain is not the cold sort of damp, icky rain, but a refreshingly cool rain in contrast the oppressive heat of the summer days. It was strange, since she had been so certain that the weather had called for clear skies and a hot night. How odd.

The huge windows of her house blow open with a bang, and she jumped, startled, before resting her clenched fists against the table in anger.

Everything had been hard to deal with and now—

Now this reminder of a person who had been so long gone that she couldn’t even remember his laugh.

She squeezes her eyes shut against the sudden ache that gripped her, trying to breathe in and out to regain her anger. At least it was better than the crippling sorrow that constantly nagged at the corners of her emotions.

After another breath, she pushed herself away from the table and headed to the windows, taking a moment to let the rain brush against her hot cheeks. It felt so much better than the stuffy air in the house, and it carried a scent of the sea with it; so of course she has to snap her fingers and open all the windows on the top floor.

Sitting cross legged on the table in the middle of the room, she turned off all the lights and let the storm rage outside with all her windows open. Hands covering her face, the woman quietly cries.

At least no one could hear her, that was a relief. 

The familiarity of the place brought to him an ache unlike any he had felt in a long time. A heavy pang of guilt weighed on his heart as he considered his love that was split unfairly between two worlds; in his obsession with Midgard two years ago, he had all but neglected his duties in Asgard. Now, since re-assuming that role, he discovered that the time had slipped away from him and the mercurial lives of his friends on Midgard had all but escaped his grasp. Like a footprint in the sand, his place here had washed away to nothing more than a faint memory— perhaps even a dream to the skeptically minded.

Bedecked in the comparatively ceremonial garb of his homeland and his familiar red cape, he quietly retraced the familiar lines of her home. Though as brawny a warrior as they came, the Thunderer was no less a being of contrasts. His strength was made greater by his exceeding gentleness, and the force of his thunder was similarly made greater by the silence of his softest footstep. So it was now that when he came upon Lilly crying in darkness and solitude, his presence went unnoticed alongside the din of the storm.

Unnoticed, at least, until he leaned down from behind her and brushed her hair gently back from her face. A large, warm thumb passed lightly across her cheek, the calloused skin catching her tears as they fell.

"Eyes such as yours were never meant for tears," rumbled his low, familiar voice. His articulation was strict and deliberate, but made rich by the warmth of his tones. It was a voice the likes of which could charm whole nations.

canisxwalenses:

asgardianthunder:

canisxwalenses started following you

Hail, stranger. I am Thor of Asgard.

image

Oh. I remember you, thunder butt. You’re friends with Lilly.

image

I see she and her ilk have grown no less creative with their monikers. 

Nevertheless, the length of your memory does you credit. So long have I been away I feared I was all but forgotten.