A/N: This idea was conceived of after a night of livestreaming The Avengers with the Pickle Cult (a group of some of my closest fellow Hiddlestoners on Tumblr). I swore that I would convey our fangirling into story form, and this is what came I came up with. A missing, smutty moment from the Stuttgard, Germany scene, and full of non-con, bondage, and angst.
Kara wrung her hands nervously, peering out the side of the cab as she watched crowds of people milling about along the sidewalks and crossing the congested street. On the other end of their shared seat her friend Lillian was also gazing out of the taxi windows, but her distraction was on an entirely different plane from Kara's.
"Are you seeing these gorgeous men?" she squealed, positively bouncing with excitement. "I swear guys are not this beautiful back home."
Kara murmured in agreement, only half paying attention to her companion. Of the two of them she was usually the unofficial leader and all too well she knew that if she did not pay attention to the landmarks and general directions, they would end up lost by the end of the night. They could easily get a cab and tell the driver to take them back to the University of Stuttgart, but she still did not relish the idea of being one of two, foreign young women alone late at night without any sense of direction.
"Excuse me, you can just drop us off here, we can walk the rest of the way," she called over to the driver, patting anxiously on the back of the seat in front of her as she held out a credit card with the other hand.
"Walk?" Lillian protested, tearing her eyes away from the street and turning to face Kara, who stared resolutely back. "In heels?"
"Oh come on Lillian, it's not that far," she chastised, accepting the card back from the driver and opening her car door so that she could slide out onto the street. She heard Lillian doing the same on her side of the taxi—huffing and muttering as she did so—and then the taxi had pulled away, leaving the two girls alone amongst a sea of people loitering outside of the crowded museum.
This was one of the aspects of studying abroad that Kara had most looked forward to: attending the cultural events in Germany. She'd heard from one of her professors only a few days ago that a charity gala was to take place here and students were allowed to attend free of admission, so long as they dressed formally for the occasion. Elated, Kara had jumped on the opportunity and dragged a grumbling Lillian along with her. Only the sight of German men in tuxedos seemed to lighten the latter's mood, which in turn brightened Kara's. They grinned at each other as they crossed the street hurriedly, giggling at their awkward lurches from clambering along in unbroken-in high heels. Panting, they arrived at the opposite side of the street where a roped-off, red carpet led to the entrance of the museum.
All around them people were dressed in their finest, and Kara was immensely relieved she had not spent much of her souvenir money while in the country so that she could buy an outfit for the occasion. Lillian, being the daughter of two wealthy lawyers back home in Pennsylvania, had had no problems begging them for the funds when she'd explained slyly that the dress was required for a formal event at a museum. They'd caved and reloaded her pre-paid credit card, leaving the two girls free to spend the entire morning trying on gowns and heels. Even Kara, who was not particularly trendy or interested in clothing, had enjoyed playing dress-up in German boutiques for a day. They stood side by side—Lillian in her mauve, form fitting mermaid ensemble and Kara in her sea foam green, empire-waist dress—and did not look at all out of place.
"Shit!" Lillian burst out, startling Kara out of her reverie in time to see her friend patting desperately at her sides. "I left my clutch in the cab!"
"Are you serious?" Kara groaned, closing her eyes to try and gather up her patience. "Well don't just stand there, go call the agency number and have them contact him! He can bring it back."
"My phone was in it!"
Kara bit her lip. She had gone over this very situation with Lillian before they had left for the museum, reminding her to keep her phone tucked safely into her bra the whole night. Obviously her warnings had been paid little heed to. "Here, take mine, then." She dug—rather ungracefully and attracting a few scandalized looks—into her own bra and pulled out her phone, handing it over to Lillian. She immediately ran off with it, calling over her shoulder for Kara to wait outside for her and leaving Kara herself alone and rather grumpy. Not wanting to stand alone where everyone could see her, she hurried off to the edge of the building and leaned against the wall, closing her eyes.
They were already running late. At this rate all of the important events would pass by and Kara wouldn't get a chance to experience any of them, stranded outside and waiting alone for a companion who cared more for ogling men than anything culturally relevant. She tried her hardest not to judge Lillian, especially since she had been the only friend back home who had been willing (let alone able) to come on the study abroad trip with her. Kara could just see the cruel irony in that the only friend who could come with her, was the one the least like her in personality.
Without warning Kara felt herself grabbed around the middle and dragged around the side of the building and into a narrow, darkened alley. Her shock was so great that she did not cry out as she was pressed, face-first, against the stone wall with such force that the wind was knocked out of her. She placed her hands on either side of her face in a vain attempt to push herself away but was held firmly against the wall by a pair of hands maintaining a grip on her waist.
Terrified thoughts rushed into Kara's mind with such speed that she was only aware of a fraction of them. Was she being mugged? She refused to think anything worse was happening and with desperation she tried to motion to where her clutch had fallen to the ground. "If you want money, take my purse!" she cried out in panic, still choking for air.
"Why should I desire money?" an elegant voice purred in her ear, and Kara shut her eyes at the sound, a shiver running the length of her spine. She had an inkling then of what was coming but refused to accept it, struggling futilely in his grasp.
"Then what do you want?" she gasped, a note of hysteria in her tone.
"To stake a claim," the voice replied smoothly, his words sending a pang of terror rushing through Kara's entire being. A pair of long-fingered hands appeared on either side of her face and she felt a soft fabric being crammed into her mouth. She resisted and tried to bite the hands but they were too nimble, and soon he had her successfully gagged and was tying the remainder of the cloth around the back of her head to keep it in place. All she could see in her line of vision was the stone wall and the black and white, geometric-patterned fabric with stripes of green that was bunched all in her mouth. She fought to try and force the material out with her teeth and tongue, but to no avail. Her captor had secured it too tightly. "Now then, do you promise not to struggle? I have some place to be and not much time to spare."
Every inspirational chain email she had ever received about women's safety, every public service announcement against violence, they all burst into her mind in that moment. She remembered the biggest advisement: to not anger your attacker, but instead focus upon your survival. After a long moment, she nodded her head.
"Splendid," the deep voice replied, and Kara could hear a smile in the unknown man's words. She pressed her face against the cold stone and focused on her hands until they were abruptly pulled behind her back and fastened with more of the soft cloth. Kara closed her eyes, forcing herself to remain calm. Some small, instinctual part of her commanded that she go to a safe place in her mind, that she block out what was about to take place, but she could not find the will in herself to do so. A defiance had taken root in Kara and she refused to allow this stranger to force her out of her own head, and she opened her eyes suddenly, staring intently at the stone wall and gauging the situation with her senses so that she could go to the police after with a detailed account.
Her attacker was much taller than Kara, that much she could easily gather by his hips pressed against her lower back. With her hands bound behind her waist she could feel him as he moved against her, and the fabrics of his clothing were expensive—she noted this, certain that he was one of the event-goers. His accent sounded English, though from the few she had heard he carried a way of phrasing words that was unusual. She couldn't quite place her finger on why, but she had the feeling he wasn't from England, even if he sounded so.
"I'm impressed," the voice murmured as the sound of a zipper echoed in the alley; Kara reflexively tensed. "I thought humans would be far less compliant."
Humans? Was she dealing with a mad man? Play along, a voice in her mind whispered. She rested her right shoulder against the wall along with her forehead, hoping to convey submission. A pair of hands lifted the floaty material of her gown and gathered it around her hips, and Kara squeezed her eyes shut as a finger reached between her legs and began to stroke her through the material of her panties.
Defiance blossomed into rage with the act and she immediately tried to kick her heeled foot back and into where she estimated his groin to be, but he kicked her leg aside easily and pressed her entire body against the wall. His breath was on the side of her face and she could see a blur of a man's face in her peripheral vision as he squished her into the stone with the weight of himself. He tsked patronizingly and said "I thought we agreed you would submit to me. You do not want to incite my fury, Kara Henley," he added, and she realized with horror that he must have opened her purse and seen her student visa and passport. "Do not move again unless I command you to do so."
With one hand pressed to her lower back, she felt the man get down on one knee and grip the right side of her panties, sliding them down her skin until they pooled at her feet. He yanked them out from under her heels and tossed them to the side as Kara's face burned with humiliation. She was completely exposed to this stranger and, unable to defend herself, had no choice but to remain still as his fingers explored her most private of places. When the man righted himself and gripped onto her hips, Kara's rage guttered out and she turned her face against the wall so as not to see what was about to happen. She clenched her eyes shut when she felt the broad tip of something hot and hard pressing into her opening.
The penetration was torturous, agonizing, excruciating, and every other word for pain that she knew reverberated in Kara's incoherent mind to comprehend the sensation of what felt to be a thick, cruel branding iron piercing into her over and over, without mercy. Her mouth stuffed full of fabric, she could only express her suffering with muffled cries and the writhing of her hips as she tried in desperation to alleviate the misery. She shifted her pelvis so that she met his thrusts at less awkward of an angle, and the sharp, stabbing of her cervix wall lessened.
A trail of warm something was running down her legs. She could not see them with the fabric of her gown bunched up around her waist but she had an idea as to what the liquid could be. Her boyfriend back home was nowhere near the size of her attacker, and had never taken her with such force. No doubt she was bleeding. Dazedly she felt saddened at the thought of her shoes being ruined, and then wondered with a hint of delirious laughter why her accessories should even be in her concerns at all.
"Find this funny, do you?" the voice said abruptly, and Kara's eyes jolted wide open. In her confusion she had completely disassociated the pain of the invasion in her body from the presence of the man with the English voice, and her heart began to race in true terror at the closeness of those lips to her ear. She felt herself being ripped away from the wall and tossed onto the ground as he hissed, "Kneel!"
Kara knelt, silent tears streaming down her cheeks. She did not dare to look up and see the man who stood behind her, unwilling to risk his rage but also terrified that his face would haunt her forever if she gazed upon it. Kara heard him drop to his knees, felt two hands forcibly push her forward so that her elbows were resting on the ground, and shut her eyes as he pushed her dress up her back, leaving her once more vulnerable to his will.
This time she was prepared for the pain as he pushed himself inside of Kara's aching insides, which enabled her to maintain a sensible thought process as he took her roughly. She could do nothing but prop herself up uncomfortably, her elbows and knees scraping against the rough concrete and brace herself for each impact of his body to hers, each time delving so deeply that soon her strangled cries became muffled gasps for air as she fought to breathe with the material wadded in her mouth. His fingers were so vice-like on her hips that she could feel the skin close to breaking, and his grunts of pleasure intensified as his thrusts did. Kara could feel his body acting in much the same way her boyfriend's did when he was about to come and prayed that her captor would soon find his release and be done with her. Instead she felt the bindings from her hands come undone and wrapped instead around her eyes, blinding her.
Kara forced herself not to retaliate as he flipped her over onto her back, spreading her legs wide and plunging into her once more. The missionary position meant the angle was not quite so painful, which came as a blessed relief, but with that came the knowledge that he could now see her face. She knew he was watching her reactions when every time he forced himself in as deep as he could go and she would cry out in agony, she could hear the faintest of laughter. As hard as she tried to keep her face rigid when she'd realized he was getting off on her pain, she could not contain the anguish for very long and in the end would cry out, her hands instinctively reaching down to where their bodies joined.
He allowed her to do this, and her grasping at their hips seemed to excite him. Soon he was pressing himself against her chest and his thrusts were fast becoming jerky and erratic, his nose pressing into her cheek. She could feel hair tickling her skin and smelled a musky cologne on him that made her light-headed with—oh god, was she feeling desire? She forced the thought out of her mind, refusing to accept it, and when she felt his limbs tense and he pushed into her one final, excruciating time, she exhaled deeply to calm herself. The man slid out of her and she felt rather than heard him stand up. There was a moment's silence before Kara felt her hands gripped onto. She quailed away from the touch but he did not let her go. Instead he pulled her to her feet and maintained a hold on her until she had steadied herself, and then walked behind her. She could hear the clicking of his shoes as he moved, though the scarf around her eyes blinded her to his motion.
"I suspect we will see each other again soon enough," he murmured in her ear as the scarves were removed from her mouth and eyes. She whirled around, panicked at the threat, but found herself alone in the ally. Terror gripped at Kara's heart and she fell back to her knees, sobs threatening to choke her. She focused on breathing, in and out, in and out, until she felt her limbs slowly cease their trembling. In a daze she picked up the panties that had been flung so carelessly aside and slid them on over her legs. As she had suspected, blood was smeared down her legs but had dried enough that she could drop her dress to the ground and it would not stain. After a moment taken to readjust her dress and finger-comb through her hair, she picked up her clutch and walked slowly out of the alley and back towards the museum entrance, limping slightly.
There were policemen everywhere, but she didn't approach them. She couldn't bring herself to, not yet, and instead her eyes desperately scanned the crowd for any sight of Lillian. Within moments she saw her standing by the red carpet, Kara's phone in one hand and the missing clutch in the other. Kara staggered over to where she stood, attempting as best she could to appear normal. Lillian met her eyes and rushed over, then immediately stood frozen, her eyes wide.
"Kara?" she whispered uncertainly. "Kara, what happened?" Kara opened her mouth, ready to enforce lightly that nothing had happened at all, that she had merely fallen and injured herself, but then Kara felt her knees crumpling as she the ground came rushing up to meet her.
"Help! Someone help us!" she heard Lillian cry out, and soon she felt herself being surrounded by a crowd of curious onlookers.
"Move, everyone move out of the way!" a deep voice boomed and Kara found herself face-to-face with a police man who knelt down and lifted her up in his arms. He carried her over to the opposite side of the street and placed her down in front of a cop car, against which she leaned her weight and fought to control her breathing. "What happened?"
"I…" was all Kara could get out before a tight wad caught in her throat and she went silent, unable to articulate what she had gone through. She heard the back door open and felt the officer attempting to escort her inside when a loud, staticy voice erupted on the officer's walkie.
"We have a murder in the museum! I repeat, murder in the museum! The suspect is armed and dangerous, heading towards the exit! All units respond!"
The officer cursed and removed his jacket to place around Kara's shoulders. "Wait here!" he called to the two of them as he rushed across the street towards the museum entrance. Lillian wrapped her arms around Kara and squeezed her shoulders, allowing Kara to rest her head against her.
"He raped me," was all she managed to say before dissolving into tears. Lillian shushed her and stroked her hair for a few minutes, until the sounds of screaming and people pouring out of the museum distracted them. Quite forgetting her tears at the sight, Kara stood upright and tried to ascertain what was going on but couldn't for the life of her figure out what what was causing everyone to flee the building. Then she saw a lone figure walking calmly out of the entrance. Fear gripped Kara's heart as, even from that distance, she could see long hair and a horribly familiar, black and white scarf with green stripes.
"Kara? What's wrong? Who is that?"
Lillian's words did not register with Kara, who backed against the car with her pulse pounding in her ears. At that moment she saw with her own eyes his clothing morph with a golden glow into armor, a horned helmet appearing on his head and what appeared to be now a scepter shooting a bolt of blue energy towards an oncoming police car. The target rose into the air and flipped over, skidding with a crash onto the concrete. Chaos erupted as people ran for their lives and Lillian began to tug at Kara's arm, begging that they leave, but Kara stood frozen to the spot. It took several, painful yanks before she finally uprooted herself and followed Lillian towards the courtyard behind them where others had already started to flee.
All around replicas of the armored figure burst into existence, encircling the terrified crowd. "Kneel before me!" The approaching figure commanded, but the crowd only panicked further. Kara watched, refusing to believe her eyes, as he pounded his glowing scepter to the ground and a beam of blue light enclosed them all in the perimeter. "I said kneel!" Trembling, she felt Lillian pulling her towards the ground where she herself had already fallen. Kara collapsed to the ground on her knees, terrified he might see her and yet unable to turn her eyes away. The rest of the crowd followed suit and he raised his arms in supplication, laughing with pleasure.
"Is not this simpler? Is this not your natural state?" The voice sent stabs of terror into Kara's insides and she clutched her hands to her ears to try and tune out the words as the speaker moved slowly closer, but it was no use. She could hear the voice of her attacker even through her fingers and shut her eyes to try and block him out. "It's the unspoken truth of humanity that you crave subjugation. The bright lure of freedom diminishes your life's joy in a mad scramble for power, for identity. You were made to be ruled. In the end you will always kneel."
Foreboding washed over Kara and she opened her eyes to find herself staring directly into the eyes of the man who had earlier commanded that she, too, kneel before him. Wide, blue eyes met hers with derision and pleasure, sending bile rising up into her throat. Kara was struck by how tall he was and—a small, shameful part of her whispered deviously—handsomely built. Then the moment was gone, his attention to her diverted by that of an old man some twenty feet behind her, who had risen unsteadily to his feet.
"Not to men like you."
"There are no men like me," the armored man laughed. Kara flinched; he was still standing only a few people away from where she knelt.
"There are always men like you."
Kara, who had been frozen with terror and unable to turn her gaze away from her attacker, saw a fleeting expression of annoyance cross his face only to be replaced with a passive grin. "Look to your elder, people," he called out, pointing the increasingly glowing scepter towards the old man. "Let him be an example."
Everyone watched in mute horror as a bolt of blue light erupted from the end of the scepter and flew directly towards him, but out of nowhere a man in a very American-themed suit dropped in front of the older man and blocked the blast with his shield, which ricocheted and knocked the armored man down, face-first.
"You know, the last time I was in Germany and saw a man standing above everybody else, we ended up disagreeing," the American called out amiably as he strode towards the armored man, who got to his knees with an expression of scornful amusement.
"The soldier," he laughed as he got to his feet again, "a man out of time."
"I'm not the one who's out of time," the American said as a hovercraft appeared behind him, turrets and lights pointed directly at the armored man.
"Loki, drop the weapon and stand down," a woman's voice called over the PA system. Immediately Kara's attacker, Loki, she repeated in her head with stunned disbelief at how personal it felt to know his name, shot a beam of energy at the hovercraft, which rolled over to dodge the attack. Panic erupted as everyone screamed and began to flee while the two men on the ground commenced to battle, but no matter how forcibly Lillian tried to pull Kara to safety she could not move from where she sat on her knees, her eyes never leaving Loki.
"I thought humans would be far less compliant," he had said to her not even thirty minutes ago, though those moments felt a lifetime behind her. His words echoed in her head as she watched him fight against the man with the shield, their moves beyond those capable by the average human. Despite the American's best efforts he never overpowered Loki, who got him to the floor and placed the glowing scepter against the back of the American's helmet.
"Kneel," he snarled.
"Not today!" the American retaliated as he leapt to his feet and kicked Loki, sending him stumbling backwards slightly. Then Loki had grabbed the American with one hand and, to Kara's shock, flung him bodily from him a good fifteen feet away. Their battle was interrupted by the sound of AC/DC suddenly blaring over the PA system, and they both looked around, confused, until a man in an iron suit had flown up to them and sent a ball of sparks towards Loki's chest; he shot backwards onto the courtyard steps. The iron man pointed his hands threateningly at him, and Kara could see what appeared to be rocket thrusters inside of the metal gloves.
"Make your move, reindeer games."
Loki raised his hands slowly, watching them with a blank expression as his armor vanished and left him in the black and green clothing underneath. The iron man and the American conversed for a few seconds before they pulled Loki to his feet and lead him away towards the hover craft. Kara's insides turned to ice when Loki turned his face towards hers and smiled broadly.
I suspect we will see each other again soon enough. The words reverberated in Kara's mind and she watched, terrified, as he was led into the aircraft, his eyes never leaving her face until the moment he had vanished from view. Only when the carrier had flown away into the night sky did she collapse to the ground, dry heaving as the night's events finally took their toll on her. Lillian was next to her in an instant.
"Kara, let's go find the cops," she cried hysterically, and Kara looked up into her friend's anxious face.
"No… let's just go back to the dorm, please."
"Are you sure? Alright..." Lillian helped her off of the ground and led her towards the street, maintaining some of Kara's weight as she limped slowly along with her. When they'd finally reached a stretch that wasn't being blocked off by the police Lillian flagged down a taxi and helped Kara inside, resting her head against the window and watching with unseeing eyes the cars that passed by as the cab pulled away from the curb.
Loki, he had been called. He spoke and dressed in a manner unfamiliar to modern day life, and he had powers of which Kara didn't even know could exist outside the realm of fantasy. Much to her dismay and confusion, she found herself not fearing him as her thoughts dwelled on the man called Loki, but intrigued. She clutched the police man's coat more tightly around herself, wondering who he truly was.
I suspect we will see each other again soon enough. His words echoed in her mind as she saw him being led away and smiling knowingly at her; Kara shivered.