Tags (for this chapter): grandthorki (in which Grandmaster makes Thor and Loki do sexual deeds, even though they not into each other like that), lotsa kissing, voyeurism, frostmaster (but moreso in the first chapter)
Warnings: Super dubcon, probably noncon. Use of the word “rape” once. Check tags for more warnings.
Note: Lol this is a lot less fucked up than I thought it was yesterday, oops, but I still wanna say be nice to Thor in this chapter, he’s doing his best. T_T
(for @led-lite <3)
After untying his brother’s wrists, Loki rushed to the bathroom and locked himself inside. It wasn’t small, but it wasn’t large and luxurious either. Golden tiles spanned the length of the floor, complimented by the dark red paint of the walls. The lights were dim, but the walls of the bath and the toilet were clean. An upgrade from their last room—he stopped himself from thinking about it.
Most importantly, the solitude washed through him like a breath of fresh air. He spent long seconds filling and emptying his lungs and allowing his jaw to work out the aching and his face to fall into its natural, empty state. He wiped his eyes with the back of his hand until they stung. He smoothed back his hair.
From beyond the door, Loki could hear glasses shattering and furniture cracking and Thor roaring with each loud eruption of noise. He thought that maybe, he should go out there before Thor destroyed all of their furniture—but the thought sank dormant into his mind.
Tag: noncon
Figment of Choice, ch 1/4, grandthorki fic
Summary:
They’ve have been re-captured for weeks, and the Grandmaster is starting to ask probing questions about Loki’s past. Loki finds himself caught between saving them both from Thor’s temper and protecting his deepest secret (and shame).
Tags: frostmaster, grandthorki (in which the grandmaster forces Thor and Loki, as bros, to do sexual things), thor&loki
Warning: hard dubcon, noncon, mutually nonconny thorki
(for @led-lite <3)
When they arrived on Sakaar, the sun was setting on the horizon. Loki gauged the its descent by the patches of pink and purple along the polished floor—patches that were broken by the shadows of their footsteps. They left dark stretches of gray winding all the way up the walls, as the Grandmaster led them to their new quarters.
A few feet away, Thor walked with his head ducked and his eyes dulled. His wrists were bound in a leathery cord, tethered to the Grandmaster’s grip. It was a precaution after yesterday, when Thor had worked himself into such a rage that he’d assaulted one of the Grandmaster’s guests and left a dent in the thick metal wall of their room. At least, he’d been cognizant enough not to attack or threaten the Grandmaster himself.
Loki counted that as a blessing.
Because while his own hands were free, he was not. He was trapped. Pinned between his captor and his brother, where leaning too close to one would inevitably alienate the other.
On a day like this, when he’d been brought to a planet he had hoped to never to step foot on again, he was grateful that Thor was silent. Not dragging his feet nor childishly yanking his wrists nor drawing attention to himself at all. Rare were these moments. When Loki could fall into a daze, tempered only by the occasional nod or one-word response to the Grandmaster’s rambling. Where he could vacate the scene and leave Thor to his own devices.
He was tired. It had only been weeks, but he didn’t know how much more he could take.
Loki is the Philosopher King 