away from the crowd
pairing: bruce banner/thor
fandom: mcu
rating: general
word count: 3517
warning: swearing, alcohol, body image
summary: Thor has looked forward to the Avengers' Halloween party, especially because of a certain doctor. (post-canon fluff)
(my late halloween fic for my favorite holiday and my late addition to @thorbruceweek2021 ! hope you all enjoy just some domestic avengers and fluffy love confessions and fat thor my love. yeah. not beta read and all mistakes are my own. enjoy?!)
Thor has always found humans incredibly peculiar, but also grew incredibly fond of them instantly, that much is certain, after fighting with the Avengers as long as he has.
And since his wonderful friend Sam Wilson prompted for a reformation of the superheroes, he thought himself honored to be considered a part of the team, still. It's been so long since he's seen his mortal friends, he'd missed them dearly.
He'd also missed Valkyrie dearly, very much so, despite staying in contact with her. She's doing an excellent job ruling New Asgard; better than he'd ever do, by a mile. The warrior seems humbled, but smirks into his chest as they hug, because he always knew she was a softie. He's got a feeling Loki would agree.
Arriving at the brand new, rebuilt Avengers tower was strange and amusing and nostalgic, but so was just seeing Earth in heavens knows how long! Traveling space with his Guardian friends made him lose track of time.
Thor also asked the Captain if they could join, after he put in a good word for them. Sam had eyed the sweet rabbit with a bit of hesitation, but he convinced him he'd keep him in check.
Of course, today is a few months after their very first return to Earth and not anywhere near a professional meeting. Rather, he and Valkyrie and the Guardians have been invited for this thing called Halloween!
He loves these human festivities, they're so odd sometimes.
♡ read the whole fic on ao3 ♡
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with you, i fall
characters: thor and loki
fandom: marvel cinematic universe
rating: general
word count: 1282
summary: Loki lives to be at Thor's side at the battle of Wakanda. Yet, his brother falls. (canon divergent infinity war angst)
(first episode of loki made me miss the brodinsons™️ 10 times more than i already did so i wrote some emo mess at 3am inspired by this stunning art i came across by @blenderx06 !! hope it’s readable or.. something. yeah)
read on ao3
Loki’s seen just about everything Asgard, the universe, and these puny humans have to offer, he’s convinced, but standing amongst Avengers wasn’t in his cards, no, not at all.
He’s fought alongside his brother over and over again, he was prepared to do so from their childhood years. Then he wasn’t. And now he was. He trusted… trusts Thor. Hell, he’d always trusted him with his life, even when he was sick of his face and his words and his selfishness and his love that he gave without himself even realising it.
Thor is so, so stupid. But he follows, why? Because they’re brothers, after all.
And he’s good . But what makes him believe in his brother, rather, might be that Thor believes in him. Still believes in him. For some reason. He hasn’t exactly been giving him many reasons to keep that belief, he’ll admit, yet, here Thor is, never wavering.
That’s what struck Loki on the elevator before they broke into the Grandmaster’s ship and had to fight their genocidal sister- gods, he thought he hated the universe, but that was child’s play compared to her. Good riddance.
And Thor does not waver on the battlefield.
He’s worthy, of course , what else could he expect of him? His annoying perfection and worthiness and optimism, it was quite enough to make his blood boil.
So was the sight of Thanos, betrayal. Avengers, no trust in him. Who could blame them?
And Thor had stopped trusting him decades ago- and really, could anyone trust him, failure after failure, betrayal after betrayal? He can’t find it in himself to blame his brother, not really, deep down.
Then… why is he here?
Why does his brother look at him that way, as if Loki might just be the only thing he has left? He’s an Avenger, that thick-headed doofus.
Thor and Loki, maybe they never worked. Maybe only in their adolescent years, before their differences tore them away from each other. It’s too late for them, he’s been thinking. They’re past redemption, past burying the hatchet and licking their wounds.
Yet, he asks himself those questions when he hears the snap of the titan’s fingers, and a silence settles upon Wakanda. Too quiet, too suspenseful, too… nothing. As if the entire world held their breaths at the same time.
And so, when they breathe out, collectively, it happens, and the moment that Loki shouldn’t care about, because, well, this was what he was supposed to help Thanos with. Not this, not the endgame, but he couldn’t care less what the titan did before, till now.
Somewhere far away, one of those brute Avengers says something, then abruptly goes quiet again.
This is when the panic of the humans settles in.
For Loki, it’s rather a haze. At a distance, not close enough to touch him, he’s a God, he shouldn’t care about these meaningless little lives.
That is to say, it would be a lie. He rather feels particularly weak at this moment. Loki wonders, this sensation, as more words broken off into the wind can be heard, if this is what it feels like to be human.
He can’t imagine the constant stress - to care.
Thor told him, when Loki went against him, their father, a rebellion or rather a fight for the rightful throne, as he called it. Thor told him clearly, “Brother, I love you.”
And the exasperation, the desperation of his answer of, “You do? You did? Was it ever real?” They were both desperate. Thor has never been anything other than honest to his face, he’s quite aware.
And since his brother had too many tears running down his face, visibly struggling to even get one word out, he braced himself, no, he assumed the worst, “It wasn’t real. I'm not your brother.”
Once again, a lie. Loki did it well. He does it well.
Tragically, that silly thing, caring, it only becomes tangible for himself enough to know, to see, to touch, when the sight of his brother is brought upon his eyes once more. His hand is clutching the titan, comically tiny, alike a human, until it isn’t.
This can’t be, surely not? Thor, he- he’s crumbling to dust. His hand disappears into a cloud of dust.
That feeling falls upon Loki as when the Bifrost was broken- loud and explosive and something much akin to pain. This pain, he has rarely felt one as sharp as this one.
Stinging, burning, sneaking up on him. He, the god of Mischief. What a pathetic joke.
Thor’s eyes meet his. This is rare, too, eye contact. They usually avoid silly talks of feelings, of acknowledging them, even. Yet another attribute of the Odinson bloodline, of their father. His father. He is like a stranger to him. To his brother, too, he discovered, not long ago.
Yet, despite the void of feelings, despite the lack of courage to bring them into the open, Loki finds himself doing that very thing - feeling.
One long stride is all it takes him to get closer to his brother, and then, he notices, it falls upon him as well, how Thor looks at him the same way he’s looked at him before. Not in doubt, or betrayal, or disappointment.
In excruciating pain. But shockingly, simultaneously, trust. Utterly loud and clear trust.
Loki thinks he trusts too easily, that stupid brother of his. Only suitable explanation for him to trust Loki himself, after all.
Thor’s grabbed onto his arm, as opposed to the titan, whose plan is being followed to perfection. This wasn’t supposed to happen. Thor is a god. They’re gods. This can’t be.
This cannot be- it can’t.
Yet it seems real.
The void of Thor’s hand grows, taking his arm and shoulder with it, fading into nothingness, a black hole.
“This isn’t real,” Loki can’t stop the words from leaving his mouth.
Another shock, because his brother laughs. Not his stupid happy one, a broken sound, of sorts, “You don’t think so?”
“Brother,” he retaliates, particles of dust rippling off Thor one by one, as if time had slowed down, “This cannot be real.”
In fact, it seems impossibly slow, this pain, and what’s happening in front of him. His brother even has time to look around at his fellow Avengers, disappearing into thin air. Oh, Loki realises. This pain, it comes with fear.
“It seems to be, brother,” Thor then says, righteous voice and all. “Seems to be the end.”
And Loki barely has any words left, in any realm, in any world, in any galaxy. He just feels. But yet his brother continues to crumble, it’s all his senses pick up on.
“Loki,” Thor’s voice shakes, no way fitting for a god, “Brother. I love you.”
What an absolutely unforgiving moment. What a forsaken imbecile of a brother he has. How overwhelmingly and stupidly and tragically right he is. He is no imbecile. He is trusting of everything, but most urgently, he is trusting of him .
“Thor, what in the world-”
“Listen to me.”
A hole is rippling in his brother’s stomach, enlarging. The hand on Loki’s arm becomes lighter, and a speck of dust, a figment of his own brother’s being, wavers through the wind, brushes his cheek. Time seems to suddenly speed up.
Loki tries to get a grip on him, but he slips through his fingers. Is this some sort of poetic irony, really?
“I am listening, what is it-”
“I love you,” Thor repeats. Yet, it somehow seems necessary. It even feels necessary, feels needed. And it only adds more to that stinging pain somewhere in his chest and gut and fingers and throat, “For real.”
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