Loki felt the air rush out of his lungs in the all too familiar feeling of falling through space and time. If there was a record for how many times one had fallen through a worm hole, surely, he would have broken it by now. He knew better than to fight the various gravitational forces pulling at and crushing him. His eyes were closed, and he concentrated fully on simply staying intact – staying himself. Something hard crashed into him, and he tried to keep his concentration so as not to be obliterated by the forces. But whatever had hit him had somehow connected to him and was now dragging him down (up? Directions were nonexistent at the moment) towards what he could feel was another worm hole. He did not dare open his eyes until the hole spat him out and he could feel air whipping around him. He took a moment to assess everything around him. He was falling from the sky; the object that had hit him was a large fragment of some space ship that was now embedded into his left leg; there were many other worm holes in the sky; there were mountains upon mountains of garbage everywhere; and there was an odd buzzing vibe from this world.

The Trickster expertly shifted in the air and landed among the trash rather gracefully. He pried the space ship fragment out of his leg and was relieved to see that it actually hadn't broken his skin. Though his leather pants were ruined. Loki tossed the fragment to the side and scanned the area around him. It smelled horrid, and he could hear the scuttling of various creatures. He clambered up the closest trash pile and took a better survey of the land. A ways off in the distance was a large tower-like building surrounded by less trashy looking shapes – a citadel of sorts it seemed. As the scuttling sounded closer and closer Loki held his breath and teleported toward the tower. He was lucky to land in an alley way. He took a few moments to observe the beings mingling in the street and listened closely for valuable information.

From what he could tell, this planet was more of a social and trading hub of debauchery for at least the galaxy, maybe even more. It was a literal and metaphorical dump of the universe. Much of the fashion (though Loki did not consider any of it to be fashionable) was made up of scantly built shiny garments framed by bright body paint. Loki adjusted his glamor to blend in with the crowds. The large tower, now looming above him, seemed rightfully to be the center of this trash planet. He effortlessly wove his way through the crowded streets until he found the large, gaudy entrance. He walked in as if he had been there the entire time and immediately found himself to be a guest at a seemingly impromptu party.

A drink was shoved into his hand from someone he could not see, and there were beings strewn across various seats and rugs. Loki's eyebrow quirked in intrigue as to whom would want such a gathering in the foyer of their tower. Loki didn't dare intake the drink he now held but listened intently to the conversations around him. From what Loki could tell, the owner of the tower – no scratch that – the entire planet was some goon that called himself the Grandmaster. Loki smirked, now he had a name for his target.

. . .

Loki managed to loiter amid the party long enough to glean enough information to form a solid plan. According to many of the "nicer" dressed guests there was to be a more well-to-do gathering in the upper parts of this tower after this party and the Grandmaster was sure to be there. Loki effortlessly fitted himself in a group of these future party goers. He could have laughed at how easy it was for them to just accept him as if he were a longtime friend. They even vouched for him when a guard tried to stop him from entering in the new party. Then he slipped out of view from them in the darkness of the new venue. The flashing colors and blaring music were a perfect cover for him. But the same buzzing vibe he felt upon entering this world seemed to grow more intense.

It was very possible that he was not the only powerful being in this room. Loki took in a deep breath and mentally buried his seidr so as to appear harmless if that was the case. He noticed a group of guards standing strategically around something – or someone – that Loki couldn't yet see. He worked his way across the room and was met with the sight of the most ostentatious looking person he'd ever seen. While his body paint was minimal compared to the other people on this planet, his gray hair was spiked in many directions, his color coordination was juvenile, and his robes screamed "easy access." But judging by the guards' placements and the partiers' body language around him, this was the Grandmaster himself. The man's eyes locked with the god's. The buzzing in the air grew more intense.

"Hey, I uh, I said to give everyone here a drink, didn't I?" the Grandmaster's voice carried authority. A drink was once again shoved into Loki's hand and he was gently pushed in the man's direction. "Ah, see isn't that better? What's uh, what's your name, gorgeous?" The man's face seemed innocent, but his eyes pierced through Loki. "I don't remember inviting someone so…pretty."

Busted.

"I am Loki, and I am honored to be in your prese-" the damned Grandmaster wasn't even looking at him anymore – he was saying something to some feminine-looking alien off to his right, "ence." Loki finished his sentence with no small amount of annoyance in his tone. He was about to continue when the man interrupted him.

"Lo-ki, Loki hm, I love it! Two syllables and hmm…" He looked to Loki again. "Well are you going to just stand there like a pillar or what?"

Every instinct in Loki's being screamed at him to run away and get the hell off this planet. He mentally shrugged that anxiety off and suggestively made his way to the couch on which the man was strewn across. The god sat down to the Grandmaster's right, leaning into the cushion to appear more innocent. The man smiled and sipped at his drink. Loki glanced down at the glass in his hand. The liquid inside it was dark, possibly purple or black but the darkness of the room made it impossible to tell. Loki didn't want to drink it, but he could tell that there would be horrendous consequences if he refused. The Grandmaster sat up and was leaning closer to him. Loki took a sip of the drink and held it in his mouth for a moment to attempt to assess its ingredients. There was a swift clap to his back and he reflexively swallowed the liquid.

Damn.

The Grandmaster was smiling again.

"It's sweet isn't it? I told the uh, bar keep, to uh, to make a drink that tasted like space! And you know what? I think he totally nailed it!" the man drank the rest of his own cup in one swig and it was quickly replaced with a full one. Loki returned the smile.

"It does have the same wondrous quality as the void of space." Loki mused in feigned assent. "Pray tell, what is in it?"

"Nothing bad for you." The Grandmaster chuckled. Everyone else around them laughed along, and so too did Loki so as not to anger the ruler of this trash planet. "You seem smart there, Lo-lo – I'm gonna call you Lo-Lo! You could probably figure it out if you take more than a single sip." This was a dangerous game, and Loki knew it, but this was his only shot at possibly getting out of this weird world.

He took another, longer, sip of the "space" drink. Then, like a spark igniting kindling, warmth erupted in his abdomen. He wasn't surprised that it was riddled with aphrodisiacs, but there was still something off and unknown about the drink. He downed the rest of it while making eye contact with the Grandmaster.

"Well?" The man asked somewhat giddily. Loki smiled warmly at him.

"While it is wondrous, space does not typically make you warm."

The Grandmaster laughed again and slapped his right hand on his thigh.

"Good, good, that's uh that's brilliant Lo-lo, I love it!" He leaned even closer to Loki.

The buzzing increased again and the god had to use all of his resolve to avoid jumping as he felt something stir in his mind. It was as if his mental self was being caressed by another. He barely registered the Grandmaster's voice directing someone to give Loki another drink. His empty cup was replaced with a full one. Then there was a warm hand on his thigh.

"You look a little dazed there Lo-lo, everything okay?"

Loki blinked and re-centered himself in his mind.

"I was just contemplating what a drink made to taste like Sakaar would be like." The god's voice was intentionally small, so as to appear more under-the-influence. The Grandmaster genuinely laughed, squeezing his thigh even tighter.

"We have those too!" The man's hand moved from the god's thigh to his shoulder and brought their faces closer together. "I like the way you, uh, think!" The caressing feeling in Loki's mind flowed down through his body. There was a feather light touch to what he would consider the center of his seidr. Much to Loki's discomfort the touch began to deepen. "Ooh, uh, well look at that…you uh, you've got something special in there, don't you?"

Shit.

Loki wanted desperately to lean away from the man, but the grip on his shoulder tightened. The buzzing intensified again, and Loki could have sworn that it was beginning to invade his body. The Grandmaster downed his drink again, and the empty cup was taken from his hand. That same hand was now gently placed over Loki's hand that was gripping his own cup. The god's eyes instinctively snapped to make eye contact with the man. The Grandmaster simply smiled and guided the cup to Loki's lips and the god was forced to drink the liquid all in one go.

Fuck.

It wasn't that Loki couldn't hold his drinks, but whatever was fondling his seidr and insides was teaming up with that damn buzzing and trying to drown his mind. The warmth grew more intense in his belly and began to greedily spread throughout the rest of his body. There was a sudden sharp burn somewhere inside his seidr.

"Oh, you're different than what that glamor of yours would suggest."

Loki's eyes widened – the Grandmaster's voice was in his mind.

"What are you? Oh, ooh look at that!" There was another sharp poke within the god. "You're cold? Whoa, that's, uh, wild Lo-lo!" Fear radiated within Loki – the Grandmaster was not just some floosey ruler, he was something powerful – more powerful than Loki had ever encountered – he was screwed.

"Oh no! Our guest doesn't, uh, doesn't seem to be enjoying himself here!" Whether the Grandmaster was genuinely concerned or not, Loki would never know. The hand that had been holding the god's shoulder moved to gently caress his cheek. "You don't have to worry anymore, you belong to me now."

Please, no.

The buzzing grew so intense that Loki actually thought his skull was going to split. He felt the force on his seidr engulf it entirely. He reflexively tried to put up every wall he could within himself. The Grandmaster clicked his tongue and rubbed his thumb gently across Loki's lips.

"Oh you don't have to hide, you little pretty thing you! It's like I, uh, like I said…you belong to me now, so all that anxiety and complicated stuff can, uh…" The Grandmaster erratically flailed his other hand in gesture. "All the bad can go away!"

Loki clenched his jaw and was doing everything he could to remain in control. But there were rather insistent trickles of temptation very nearly overtaking him. The temptation of safety…entertainment…affection….they were swirling around Loki's mind like all the paint on a palette being smeared together. Everything was spinning

"I can tell you're strong, and oh! I am so excited to play with you, so why are you making this hard on yourself?" The Grandmaster's voice was barely above a whisper.

"Just let go."

The god looked up into the Grandmaster's eyes and it was game over. The buzzing seemed to peak in Loki's mind, and then everything was still.

All that was left was euphoria.

A/N: Who knew this ship would consume my life? Let me know what you think! More to come soon.