does anyone remember the reluctant partners to lovers thorkyrie dancers AU I made like a year ago before promptly deleting my old blog? here’s the first two short fic of their beginning that I saved, each based off of separate prompts. I hope you like this! because I sure do love this AU. and like always, I am open and accepting of prompts for this pairing and this universe as well as other marvel characters.
three sentence prompt, anything in Marvel dance au where Thor and Valkyrie find out they have to be partners
Prompt: DANCER AU??? Idk exactly what you’re doing with it but can I have Val and thor dancing and they’re doing like a lift up thing but Val lifts up thor instead I just thought of that when you said it and now I have a Mighty Need
Brunnhilde whirls around, the last gulps of her Coppola coming dangerously close to splashing across her breasts and all over her four-day-old and new favorite PUMA sports bra as she hurriedly stomps to stand toe-to-toe to her agent to hiss, “You cannot be serious?”
Her agent grimaces, shrugs apologetically, and alerts that her temporary partner-to-be just entered the building and to be nice because Brunnhilde’s publicity will benefit from it—and a rise in her numbers is needed because she’s been out of the spotlight for far too long.
Huffing, she’s stubborn, highly doubtful that it all will go over smoothly—not only because of her and this new partner’s different dance types, but because she’s seen the dancer, knows that he calls himself “Thunder,” and as she frowns at his goofy, obnoxiously arrogant smile or his nonchalance, Brunnhilde prepares for the worse of possibilities: for bruised feet, for incompetence while watching him walks across the room and head straight for the table of fruit and muffins…she doesn’t expect his impossibly tolerable height. Brunnhilde flexes her fingers, un-velcros her workout gloves, scowls, and quickly downs the rest of her drink.
— — — —
Brunnhilde “The Valkyrie” Parrington is not a dancer. She used to be when she was a wee little thing, but she will never say she has been since then.
Brunnhilde isn’t a dancer, and she will deny it relentlessly, repeatedly, and even with the metal awards around her neck and gleaming trophy staring back from shelves.
Valkyrie, as she’s nicknamed, is nowhere near a dancer—she doesn’t have the body, doesn’t have knees or mastered muscles or the grace or poise of one—although when she’s under the eyes of an audience and performing on the floor, she becomes graceful and otherworldly, as if possessing the precision of a goddess.
Valkyrie has never been a dancer, which is why she’s become one of the world’s best renown aerial silks performers; because being in the air is a lot easier, a lot more focused and a lot less displeasurable than gliding across marble floors or ice. It’s easy for her. It feels right.
Which is why she’s devastated and humiliated when she’s told to either partner with a salsa dancer or else her reputation will plummet to a point of no repair. After a long night of contemplating, she caves in—and then the next thing she’s told is that they’re entering into a competition alongside several other well-known names. Brunnhilde nearly declines it, but when she’d gone to rage and vent about it to friends at a dance studio, Hope Van Dyne shows her an article already released about Brunnhilde’s comeback. Hope says she will be in the stands cheering her on but Brunnhilde’s vacant stare at Hope’s phone says otherwise.
She goes along with it.
Brunnhilde and her partner, Thor Odinson, are told by a strict choreographer that the opening of their final performance will involve aerial dancing, the remaining of it happening on the floor, and that Brunnhilde has to take a running start to be lifted into the air as the finish.
And to make it worse, she believes Thor has two left feet for anything that doesn’t involve quick movements or rapid hip swivels. Which is why they spend the better part of the next three weeks practicing and making sure that Thor “Thunder” Odinson is less likely to have slippery fingers or dropher on the goddamn floor in front of cameras and rows upon rows of audience.
On the last week of practice, a split-second decision is made that switches the final move so that “The Valkyrie” lifts Thor “Thunder”off the floor before the judges and broadcasting cameras, ending their performance of a type of contemporary salsa dance.