Fic: Not Made Of Porcelain.

 Title: Not Made Of Porcelain.
Rating: PG.
Fandom: Thor (2011), The Avengers (2012)
Character(s): Thor, Loki, Tony Stak, Clint Barton, Steve Rogers, Natasha Romanov, Bruce Banner, Brown Spandex/Virus/Random Ridiculously Named OC.
Pairing(s): -
Genre: Somewhat humorous.
Note: Written for this prompt on norsekink
Summary:Thor hesitates, as do the other Avengers, but what can they do?

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The blade shines, looks impossibly sharp against the dull form of the inhibition collar, and Tony stops dead in his track, swearing like a sailor.

See? That’s the reason why he didn’t want Loki to come with them!

Granted, he’s the only one who has any idea of how to navigate the new Wanabe-Overlord’s evil lair of evilness (Which, Tony might add, sucks big time. I mean, brown velvet drapes? Seriously?) and he also knows where to find what he needs to take his infuriating collar off but still.

Brown Spandex (it’s not his real Villain Name but Tony never bothered remembering it… maybe he should have) lets out a satisfied cackle, and Thor’s hand rises, Mjölnir ready to strike, but he is stopped by the smooth voice of their opponent:

“Oh, you don’t want to be doing that.” He smirks, and Tony sees his blade leave a fine line of red on Loki’s throat. The Trickster God doesn’t seem really phased by all this… in fact, he rather looks pissed when Brown Spandex nuzzle at his cheek and tells Thor: “Wouldn’t want me to damage that pretty brother of yours uh? Now set your weapons down.”

Thor hesitates, as do the other Avengers, but what can they do? Loki has no magic, no spell to get himself out of this situation, and even Clint can’t shoot that maniac down quickly enough to prevent him from slicing Loki’s throat: slowly, reluctantly, they all move to lay their weapons on the ground… and Loki rolls his eyes.

“Oh for the love of…”


Loki’s sentence ends on the combination of a sigh and a grunt. Sigh because, judging from his face, it’s clear the Trickster is annoyed (at best) with his fellow heroes (and Tony’s lips still curl at the thought that, a mere months ago, it would have been Loki holding the blade), grunt because his green-clad elbow violently collided with Brown Spandex’s stomach, bending him in two.

Loki uses the momentum to bring his closed fist against the Villain’s crotch, and the stone blade shatters on the ground as the Liesmith hits his captor’s nose with the butt of his hand, blood pouring forth with a loud crack.


One more second and Brown Spandex is captured, arm twisted behind his back and neck imprisoned in a headlock much stronger than expected.

Loki doesn’t wait for the other Avengers as he strides toward a cupboard and pushes it aside to reveal a passageway, his steps firm and sure as he travels the base he abandoned not so long ago. Surprisingly, Thor is the first to react and follow his brother, Clint and Natasha on his heels as Tony, Steve and Bruce close the march.

They reach a grey, bunker-like corridor where a guard (probably the only one they haven’t knocked out and/or killed on their way in) marches on Loki. The latter single handedly deflects the blow aimed at his face and slams his head against the guard’s nose. A knee to the stomach ensures that the bulky guy won’t straighten up, and Loki finishes him with a vicious elbow at the back of the neck, before opening the door.


The bedroom-slash-study is as… tastefully decorated as the rest of the lair, and Tony snorts, but Loki ignores it in favor of the old fashioned desk standing in front of the floor-to-ceiling windows. Each drawer is locked with an electronic pad, and Loki designates the one in the center:

“The code.”
“Fuck off.”

Tony doesn’t even see the God move: one moment Brown Spandex is half kneeling next to Loki, the other one he held at arm’s length by his collar, feet dangling in the air and a crooked smile on his lips.

“Give. Me. The code.”
“Say ‘please’ and I’ll consider it.”

There is a an impressive thud as ‘Virus’ broken nose makes a very close and physical acquaintance of the desk, and Loki bends to speak in his captive’s hear, two of his fingers pressing against the guy’s forehead.

“Give me the code please.”

Brown Spandex laughs, but it is cut short when Loki’s fingers press at the space between his nose and eyeballs, making his eyes water.

"Okay!” He says eventually, “Okay, I’ll do it!”

He bends to open the drawer, but Loki doesn’t release him until the collar is finally off.



“What was that?” Steve says after Loki handed Virus down to Coulson, and the medics had a look at the minor cuts and bruises.
“What was what?” Loki asks, his cape and armor vanishing as he brushes them, replaced by an elegant dark-grey suit and the assorted coat.
“That!” Steve insists, pointing at the bloody-faced villain following the police without complain, too dazed to struggle. “Jumping into danger without magic like that! We were worried sick!”

Loki raises a challenging eyebrow and turns to Thor, but his face quickly fall into an exasperated expression as he notices his brother’s concerned gaze.

"Oh for the love of Asgard, brother! Have you finally started to believe in you own boasting? Do you not remember all the times I bested you in training?”
“By way of magic!” Thor protests.
“By way of speed, agility and mind!” Loki retorts angrily. “I am as able as you are in the arts of war! It just so happens that they are not my preferred tool!”
“But, brother….”
“Enough, Thor!” Loki said through gritted teeth, and Thor stops, as aware as the other Avengers of what would happen if he didn’t (just because Loki joined them doesn’t mean everything is resolved between the two brothers, and their rows are no less epic for the lack of physical blows). “I am not made of porcelain! It would do you well to remember it, or you shall be reminded of it the hard way.”

Loki strides away, skin shimmering with the magic of an upcoming teleportation, and Tony runs to catch up with him, a surprised (and kinda proud, but he’s Tony Stark, he can’t admit that without ruining his reputation) smile playing on his lips.

“I honestly don’t think they’re about to forget that,” he says, his smile morphing into something more confident than blown away.
“You forget yourself,” Loki says after a quick glance, skin and magic settling so as to maintain the conversation. “I am not one of those naïve girls you can bring to your bed with a few words."
“What can I say,” Tony smirks instinctively, “Badass looks good on you.”

Loki rolls his eyes.