Legal Disclaimer: My work is my own creative intelligence and property, but I do not own the original source material it stems from (I wouldn't be writing fanfiction if it was). The opinions and interpretations of characters and events reflected in my stories may not follow what is portrayed from the source material. Please don't sue me, I'm a stay at home mom.


Competition/Challenge Block
Written for/Stacked with:
Monthly Challenges for All (Year 4); Whumptober 2021

MC4A: Fireworks; Garden; Link; Hunt [Fa Items - Knife]; Fa Bingo [2C - Scream]; PP; NC; SIN; ToS; Rum; MLG; RoB; AV; ER; Fence; O3; SN; T3

Other Challenges: Whumptober 2021 (Day 1: All Trussed Up and Still Nowhere To Go... | Bound)

Word Count: 424


Author's Note: Look... I just hit the ground running with this. It's a drabble multichap prompt thing. It will be fast-paced and information will come rapidly as needed. If something doesn't make sense, answer it with "Magic!" We are dealing with Loki's here, right? :)

Enjoy.


Trussed Up & Bound

Everything hurt. The residual burn under Loki's skin tingled uncomfortably as he came to. His arms felt heavy, his legs were like lead, and yet there was something else… something unusual, like there was something tightly coiling around him, binding him to the firm outline of a chair.

Fluttering his eyes open, the grey, cracked concrete floor came into view. A pair of sleek black bogues stood just in his view, and Loki soon realized that his feet no longer wore them or the black cotton socks Mobius gave to him. He tested his movement, feeling heavy resistance against the thick ropes that held him in place, biting into his skin in response. The back of the chair dug into his shoulder blades. Whoever had him, bound him tightly and painfully.

Loki decided to raise his head, trailing up the figure's tattered forest green suit to meet his own face glaring back at him. He gave a slight tilt of his head, smirking wickedly when their eyes met.

"Am I in Hel?" Loki muttered, not expecting a reply.

He went rigid when more figures came into view behind the one wearing the golden horns. Most sported a mimicry of the signature horns in one form of another, some wore hoods or modified helmets and hats instead.

"Oh, darling," his clone said so eloquently, so deeply, so threatening. "You'll wish it was Hel when I'm done."

Loki really did not like this, but he took a moment to scan his surroundings. It appeared to be a wrecked warehouse converted into a living space. Makeshift walls were built up with large bookshelves and scraps of concrete. The crueler version of him knelt in front of him and wrenched his attention back to him by the chin. His fingers dug into his jaw and cheeks as he held his gaze once more.

"Before I allow them to tear you apart piece by agonizing piece like we tend to do when we come across their discarded filth, why don't you indulge me as to why you are dressed as a TVA roach, hmm?" as he spoke, he tapped the tip of the dagger that appeared in his hand against the TVA belt buckle as he said each letter. "Such a new low for us, submitting to them."

The group behind him murmured in agreement. His dagger immediately found Loki's shoulder, and he let out a restrained cry between his clenched teeth, shooting a harsh glare at his other self in return.

"Ah, there's that fire…"