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The Chitauri's Revenge	By : SaChanPwns Category: Marvel Verse Movies > Avengers, The Views: 7806 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 1
Disclaimer: Disclaimer: I do not own The Avengers, nor do I make money off of this story.

Chapter List
- 16
- 17
- 18
The Chitauri’s Revenge
Chapter 17
            Thor was far too gentle with him. Loki wanted to be hurt, to be put into agony, to feel pain burst along his body. It was the only way he knew he was alive. No, Thor cradled him in his arms, holding him far too close to his chest while his hips pushed forward. His cock settled deeply within Loki, making him gasp in both pleasure and dismay. He wanted more. He could not explain it. Even with Thor inside of him, he wanted more. He clawed at Thor’s back desperately, keening for something he could not quite place.
            “Loki,” Thor’s panting brushed Loki’s ear as he rocked oh-so-gently into him.
            “Please, more—harder,” Loki reached down, sinking his fingers into Thor’s ass. He tugged him forward, forcing Thor into a harsh thrust. It made his toes curl and his back arch. Yes. He needed more. He dropped his head back and dug his heels into the bed. Frustration made tears rise into his eyes, and he let out a small sob. Perhaps he was ruined. He couldn’t reach that delicious, mind-blowing wave of pleasure without someone cutting, biting, or making him beg for mercy.
            “Loki, wait,” Thor shifted his position, which forced him out of the smaller god’s body. Loki choked on another sob as he was taken into one of Thor’s tight embraces. “Loki, brother, please tell me what you need.” Thor was distraught. It was as if he wasn’t doing it right—and he had never had complaints before. Loki simply crumbled beneath him, acting as if he needed and hated it, unable to get across what he actually wanted.
            “It’s shameful,” Loki managed to bite out. His cheeks flushed with shame.
            “Let me be the judge of that,” Thor slid the backs of his fingers over Loki’s cheek. He offered a small smile. “Now, tell me.”
            “I need more.” Loki licked his lips.
            “More of what? What exactly do you need?” Thor frowned. He had been making love to Loki, so he was confused as to what he meant. After all, Loki was precious to him. He didn’t want to damage their fragile relationship, much less hurt him.
            “Harder. Faster. Brutal,” The last word was strained, and it made Thor frown. Loki was looking off to the side, refusing to meet his gaze.
            “Brutal… in bed…?” Thor’s frown deepened.
            “Where else?” Loki spat. He felt his arousal drain as he sat up, breaking the hold Thor had on him. “I am not some wench, Thor. I am a man. A god. I deserve to be treated as one.” He resisted the urge to grind his molars. Instead, he pushed himself up from the bed.
            “Brutal is such a… a harsh word, brother.”
            “What else would you call it?” Loki clenched and unclenched his hands, his heart pattering in his chest. He was disgusting. Used. Dirty. Damaged. He took in a trembling breath. “I want to be… owned in bed, Thor. Not coddled. I am not some fair maiden.”
            “Why would I treat you harshly? I love you. That does not show love.” Thor scrubbed his face with his palms. He wondered if Loki had been this way before his capture. Had he preferred things rough? Had he enjoyed being dominated and used? Was it because he was unfamiliar with a gentle touch?
            Loki swallowed. It was almost painful. He should enjoy Thor’s touch. He yearned for it. He wanted it. Yet, his body could not experience that rush if he was cradled and cooed at. That would not work. He may have been twisted after everything he went through with the Chitauri and the Other. He may never be normal.
            “Thor… can we just rest? I cannot… I cannot handle speaking about this.” Loki’s shoulders sagged. He was grateful when Thor nodded, even if he did give him a thoughtful look. He accepted his hand, climbing back onto the bed. Arousal having left long before, Loki burrowed deep within the covers, beneath Thor’s arm, and closed his eyes.
            Loki waited until Thor began to rumble with sleep before slipping out of bed. He still had this unexplainable need to be dominated, and he knew Thor would not be able ease it. The god of thunder was too soft hearted. He stood in the middle of the room, contemplating his options. If he was caught in the dungeons again, he was sure they would execute Yfulen on the spot. Odin already doubted his faith to the throne, and being there would only damn Yfulen further.
            It may not be as good as Yfulen, but Loki had an idea. He looked back at Thor as he slipped on a robe. He felt a pinch of guilt, a wavering in his intentions, but the need crept up again. It surrounded him, coiling tightly around his muscles and limbs, suffocating him. He needed to relieve it, relieve himself, to get the oil from the Other off of his skin. With a final shiver and glance to ensure Thor was asleep, Loki made his way toward his own chambers. He was light on his feet, twisting and turning to avoid anyone who would question him. Which, he mused bitterly, would be everyone.
            Once in his own chambers, Loki slipped the doors shut. He whispered a spell to contain any noises within the room. There would be many, after all. He hoped he had enough strength and magic to do what he planned. It would, more than likely, wear him out and allow him dreamless sleep. Loki closed his eyes and concentrated. It took more energy than normal, but he was not surprised. It had been a long time since he had conjured up another ‘being.’
            When Loki opened his eyes, a carbon copy of Yfulen stood in front of him. His breath caught in his throat. He was slightly dizzy from being drained, but he decided it was worth it when Yfulen stepped forward and brushed strands of hair from his cheek. When Loki curled his lips in a snarl, the hand stopped.
            “Oh, are we playing that game today, little prince?” The image grinned nastily.
            “This is no game, Chitauri.” Loki spat, but the adrenaline rushing through his veins screamed differently. He swept forward and aimed his elbow at Yfulen’s gut. Of course, this wasn’t Yfulen, but Loki could play along. The Chitauri shifted out of the way and easily kicked Loki’s backside. He stumbled forward but turned enough to throw a fist at the image’s jaw. It connected, but it barely budged.
            “I see,” Yfulen licked the blood from its lip and chuckled. Before Loki could take another swing, it reached out and took a firm hold of his hair. He was yanked forward, and the pain made his vision sparkle. He hissed between clenched teeth, but relished the way Yfulen forced him to fall to his knees. “I suppose I should put you in your place, then.”
            Loki laughed, sharp and bitter. It earned him pain blistering across his face as he was back-handed. He heaved at first, trying to see through his double-vision. After several seconds and when the room stopped swimming, Loki looked up at Yfulen. He knew the image was only being conveyed through his own mind—games that they had played, or what he had experienced, or what he yearned. This image would do it for him.
            “Do it,” Loki demanded. The hysteria in his voice did not go unnoticed, but he couldn’t help his own madness. He needed this; he absolutely had to have it. There was no other way he could get rid of the oil left by the other. He gasped as he was hauled to his feet and thrown into the wall. His chest hit hard, forcing the air from his lungs. He immediately pushed his palms against the wall, but Yfulen’s body forced him against it. It was enough force to keep him from breathing properly. He gasped where he was, clawing at the wall as he struggled to get free from the image’s grasp.
            “Fight me more, little prince,” Yfulen purred into his ear. It made him keen, the need to be owned all the hotter. “Force me to make you submissive. Make me fuck you until you know nothing but my cock.” The words were guttural, deep within Yfulen’s chest, and Loki allowed himself to shudder.
            “Prove it,” Loki breathed, “Make me submissive. Try.” It was a challenge, and it clearly came across that way. Yfulen forced one of his legs between Loki’s and jerked his knee up. It ground against Loki’s ass and the base of his cock. Loki bit his lower lip to muffle his moan. Instead, he struggled, shoving his elbows back against Yfulen’s sides. His arms became useless. The image grabbed his wrists, put them in one hand, and pinned them above his head. With his arms held above his head and a leg rubbing rough against him, Loki was at a loss for words. He swallowed down shameful noises as each push sent electric shocks through his body.
            “Have I proved it already?” Yfulen mused. He was leaning close to Loki, his lips brushing the shell of his ear. “Are you all out of fight?”
            Loki licked his lips. He gathered his thoughts while he tried desperately to ignore the knee that ground into him. His whole body twitched as Yfulen sank his teeth into his neck. The pain was immediate. The burn was so unbelievably painful, but he loved it. Instead of moaning or asking for more, Loki conjured as much of his magic as he could without destroying the image and blasted it. Yfulen stumbled back, allowing Loki freedom. He turned around and landed a swift kick to Yfulen’s gut. He expected it to fall over, but, unfortunately, the image did not seem to feel pain.
            Instead of stumbling, which Loki expected him to do, Yfulen grabbed his leg and yanked him forward. It threw him off balance. He tumbled into Yfulen, who used the momentum to shove him into the ground. The land was stunning, but not painful. He rolled over onto his back and kicked. Again, Yfulen caught his leg. Now he had both. Loki swallowed nervously. His mind scrambled as he was yanked forward, legs spread. Yfulen fell easily to his knees between them, a triumphant smirk on his features.
            “You’re dripping for me already,” Yfulen growled. Loki was panting, his body covered in a light sheen of sweat. He thought the statement was ridiculous, but when he looked down, pre-cum was dribbling across his stomach. “Such a dirty whore,” Yfulen pulled Loki’s body down again, forcing its straining cock up against Loki’s ass. “Do you want me?”
            “No,” Loki breathed and twisted his body. It was an attempt to free himself, but Yfulen kept him still. It settled above Loki and ground against his ass again. This time it was hard enough to push Loki into the floor.
            “You do,” Yfulen hissed. It grabbed Loki’s wrists and pinned them above his head. The other hand moved to Loki’s mouth, “Open up.” Loki locked his jaw, but was back-handed. When he gasped, two fingers pushed passed his lips and pressed over his tongue. He gagged at first and then moaned. Immediately, he began to suck. Just having the fingers pushing into his mouth made his body arch, his hips twitching and pushing in desperation.
            “That’s it, baby, suck on them,” Yfulen’s lids lowered. Loki even swallowed, as if he wanted the fingers to move farther, to gag him more. Yfulen drug his fingers along Loki’s teeth, forcing them to cut the skin open. Droplets of blood fell on Loki’s tongue, and the metallic taste was an explosion of euphoria to Loki. He sucked at the wound, his mind spiraling in shock as his throat muscles convulsed in an effort to swallow.
            Loki ground his ass against Yfulen’s groin and his breath hitched. He pulled his mouth away from his fingers, saliva and blood trailing after them. “Please, please—“
            “Please what?” Yfulen chuckled.
            “Fuck me,” Loki tugged at his wrists, but they were still held firmly by one of Yfulen’s hands. “Fuck me. Fuck me!” He was almost sobbing now, but his demands were still sharp and focused.
            “Do you really want it?”
            “Yes!” Loki began to writhe, kicking his legs and twisting his lower body. “Fuck me. Fuck me now, Yfulen!”
            Finally, after Loki’s begging, Yfulen unlaced his pants. His cock bobbed out, heavy with arousal. Instead of moving right in, Yfulen slipped his fingers down to Loki’s hole. The god keened and lifted his hips from the floor.
            “Do. Not.” Loki breathed, glaring daggers. “Fuck me with your cock, Yfulen. Now.”
            Yfulen chuckled. He grabbed Loki’s hips in a bruising hold, yanked them up, and plunged in. The girth and length was so much bigger than Thor’s. It caused pain, and Loki relished it. He dug his nails into the floor, unwilling to hinder Yfulen’s movements by holding onto him. Each thrust was swift and brutal, pushing him along the wood so quickly that Loki knew he would have burns. Yet, it was delicious. It was what he needed. His whole body was strung tight like a bow, his chest heaving with every breathy moan or whine.
            Loki was being stretched, and the burn made his spine curl. Each time Yfulen pulled out enough to feel a loss, he whimpered and pushed against him. The noises began to be obscene; Yfulen grunted, his skin slapping against Loki’s. Loki’s cries began to get louder and louder. His body dripped sweat, his stomach covered in pre-cum, his hair sticking to his skin. His legs were kept bent, almost painfully, by Yfulen’s arms as he pounded into him, forcing him to open up wide and tighten back as he left. Each time he breached his body, the burn returned and Loki thrashed. Each snarl and grunt Yfulen made took Loki a little bit higher.
            Finally, finally, Loki felt that explosion of his nerves that caused his mind to become blank. He screamed, both in pleasure and in pain, sobbing helplessly as he came all over himself. The need to be hurt and owned slipped away, leaving a hollow and broken body behind. When the image crested over, it slumped over him, equally exhausted. One of its hands pushed a few locks of Loki’s hair from his face.
            “Loki, my little prince,” Yfulen purred, “I love you.”
            Loki froze, so completely stunned that the image disappeared in a mist of green magic. He lay there, panting from exertion and his climax, sobbing because he was sure that Yfulen said that because his mind wanted him to. Before he could fall asleep on the floor, Loki cast a simple cleaning spell and crawled into his bed. He fell asleep before he could move beneath the covers.
XXX
            “Loki!” Thor had been searching the palace for Loki the next morning. It was his duty to watch him, and if he let anything happen, Odin would throw Loki back into the dungeons. He checked those first, not convinced that Loki would steal away to Yfulen. When he didn’t find him there, he breathed out a sigh of relief. Then, he moved to Loki’s own chambers. He eased the door open quietly, just in case Loki was sleeping. When he spotted Loki on the bed, his rigid muscles relaxed and his mind calmed.
            Had the failed activity the night before really bothered Loki that much? Thor frowned and walked over to the bedside. He looked peaceful, at least. His expression was softened and his body was relaxed. Thor froze as his eyes landed on the bruises on Loki’s hips, the bite mark on his neck, the scratches on his arms, and the bruises surrounding his wrists. Fury hit him so hard that, without thought, he grasped Loki’s forearms and shook him.
            “Loki, Loki¸ what happened? Who did this to you? Loki!”
            Loki woke with a start. The yelling made his skin crawl, his mind shooting straight back to his captivity. Yelling was bad. He had done something bad. He was going to be punished. What had he done? He gasped for breath as his heart hammered against his chest, dread of what the Other had in store causing him to lose control of his bladder. Tears immediately followed.
            “Please—please don’t, I didn’t mean to,” Loki brought his hands up to guard his face, his knees mechanically moving against his chest. He was used to the stench of body fluids. After all, the Other had rarely let him bathe. He had forced him to “relish the dirty scum he was.”
            “Oh, gods, Loki, no…” Thor flinched. He hadn’t meant to send Loki into a panic attack. It made his chest hurt. Loki should have woken up and assaulted him. Hit him. Gotten angry. Yet, he soiled himself and cried for forgiveness.
            What had they done to him?
            “Loki, Loki, sshhh, it’s just me. I am sorry,” Thor cooed, easing Loki’s hands away from his face. He cupped Loki’s cheeks and pressed a kiss over his forehead, then his temple, then his cheek. He pressed their foreheads together as Loki’s body trembled. “Oh, Loki. Brother.” Then, ignoring the mess, Thor gathered Loki into his arms and carried him into his washroom.
            Loki was still trembling, his teeth chattering in the after-math of his panic attack. Thor set him on the edge of the tub gently before beginning a bath. Guilt weighed heavily on him, but Loki’s reaction begged the answer to his main question: why did Loki want it rough? Why did he want to be abused if he had this type of reaction to yelling? He frowned as he watched the tub fill with water.
            “Loki, the bath is ready.” Thor pushed back the hair that covered Loki’s face. Finally, their eyes met. Recognition flickered in Loki’s eyes, and it seemed he was back in the present.
            “Thor…” Loki’s voice was raw, as if he had screamed all night. Thor suspected he did, considering the marks.
            “Yes, it’s me,” Thor aided Loki into the tub and sat on the rim. “Loki… those marks…”
            Loki blinked slowly. He was not processing information as quickly as he was used to, so it took him a moment to realize that he did, indeed, have marks. He looked down at himself and blanched. The image should not have left marks. It would have been physically impossible. Yes, it hurt at the time. It hurt and felt amazing, but it should not have left marks. Loki had not planned on that.
            “Loki, who did this to you?” Thor tried to push his rage into a simmer, but it was difficult.
            “No one of importance,” Loki murmured.
            “No importance? Loki, if we are to be mated, you need to be honest with me.” Thor resisted the urge to shake him.
            “I did not ask to be mated to anyone!” Loki snapped, “It is merely convenient that you wish to have me imprisoned without a cell! You want this for the safety of your realm!” The explosion of Loki’s emotions, coupled with his magic, sent Thor to the floor. The mirrors shattered. Wisps of dark blue and green moved throughout the room in an angry swirl. A vibration moved throughout the room with enough force to make both gods dizzy.
            “Loki…” Thor sat up, groggily, while he focused his vision on Loki. “What… what was that? Are you alright?”
            Loki was standing now, water dripping from his form as he stared at the blue and green wisps of magic. His gaze fell to Thor, his pupils exploded, green barely visible. He shook his head and crumbled back into the tub. Water splashed onto the floor. Despite his sluggishness, Thor scrambled to his feet and pulled Loki from the water. He tugged him over the rim. They both fell to the floor, Loki in Thor’s arms. He was sputtering water, coughing to free his lungs of the liquid.
            “Loki, brother…” Thor closed his eyes as he clutched to Loki. He was frightened. That wasn’t Loki’s magic. At least, not magic he recognized. He believed it startled Loki as well, who stayed tucked in his arms. His clothes were becoming damp from Loki’s wet skin, but he did not care. He tightened his grip on Loki and pressed his cheek to the top of his head. “I’ve got you.”
            Loki was terrified. He had felt magic that hadn’t been there before. It rolled over him like a warm blanket, like a lost lover. He did not understand what it was or where it came from. It just was. With shaky limbs, Loki hauled himself up off of the floor. He stumbled at first, but Thor caught him before he could fall. His whole body felt as if it was on fire, but the heat was not scalding. It just was, just like the magic. It warred with his ice, his being, wrapping and claiming him in the most intimate way he had ever experienced.
            Thor dressed him; Loki was too hazy to object, much less help. The robe slipped over his body, covering the bruises and bite marks. The material was soft and smooth, but he still wanted to tear it off of himself. He did not want to be covered. It was too warm—too cold, he couldn’t decide. It was simply too much. When he whimpered, Thor gathered him into his arms and made his way toward the healers’ chambers. It concerned Thor that Loki did not struggle or snap at him to let him go, that he could walk on his own, and he was a fool to think he couldn’t.
            Something was happening to Loki, and Thor was determined to find out what. He walked swiftly through the corridors, swearing beneath his breath as Loki twitched and writhed. Some of the twisting became too much, and Thor had to stop, allowing the younger god to whine and tear at his robe. His entire body convulsed, and although Thor could not see it, he was sure that the foreign magic was responsible. What he knew, though, was that Loki was far too flushed. His skin was pink, his black lashes lying so perfectly against his high cheek bones. His lips were slick from his tongue, parted just enough to let him gasp for breath.
            It was dishonorable, but Thor could not help stealing glances of his brother’s body. Even as they finally made it to the healer’s room, Thor was straining against the ties of his pants. He was ashamed of his desire, especially because Loki looked as if he was in pain. When he settled Loki onto the table, his body convulsed again. A healer was immediately there, settling her palm over his forehead. She murmured quietly, and Thor sighed in relief as Loki became relaxed, falling limp against the table.
            “What happened, my lord?” The woman frowned and looked at Thor.
            “He… I angered him. He responded as normal,” Whatever ‘normal’ meant between the brothers, “and this started. His magic is strange, as well. It’s normally green, but—“
            “Blue,” The healer nodded. She saw it as soon as they entered. It was wrapped around Loki, cradling him.
            “Will he be well? Cured?” Thor paced along the table, his muscles corded with tension and vibrating with the need to be used.
            “Cured?” The woman raised an eyebrow at Thor, as if he were a blubbering idiot. She smoothed her hands over Loki’s chest, fixing the robe, and then began to play with the particles above his head. “You cannot cure a bonding between two beings.”
            Thor stopped in his tracks. His mind became frantic as he reviewed the steps of the mating in his head. They had mated? Had their love making did it? What about the bites? The bruises on Loki’s hips? Had he gone to Yfulen? “This…how can you tell this?”
            “Loki’s magic is green, and the other being’s is blue,” she mused as she moved around Loki’s body. “They are merging. It is beautiful.”
            “Beautiful?” Thor sputtered. He swallowed. The healer did not know about Loki’s predicament. She did not know that he and Thor were to be mated.
            “Yes, beautiful.” Her eyes narrowed on Thor as she soothed another ache that made Loki writhe. “Why, m’lord? What is on your mind?”
            “If… if I had magic…” Thor did not wring his hands. He was an Asgardian Warrior, a to-be-king. Yet, here he was, wringing his hands in his cape. “What color might you think it would be?”
            “You are queen Frigga’s son,” the woman reminded him with a small smile, “any born from her would have magic, even if it is miniscule.”
            “And?”
            “Just as you always were and will be, Thor. Your magic is golden.”
            Which meant that Loki was not mated to him.
            Which meant it was someone else.
            Which meant Loki had gone to another the night before.
            Betrayal cut deep within Thor, and then anger. It boiled in his gut and spread fire throughout his limbs. He clenched his fists as he gazed at Loki. It was not hard to believe that Loki would betray him. He had done it countless times. How was this time any different? Surely, Loki planned this. He acted as if he wanted Thor out of his own self-preservation. How had he not seen this coming?
            Before his mind could go on a rampage, Thor took in a slow breath. He forced himself to remember what the Chitauri told him. He recalled that while some of Loki’s anger had been invested in the attack and betrayals, most of it was puppet work by the Other. Loki had just been a convenient vessel to complete his plans. What if this was the Other? What if it had forced Loki to mate with him the night before?
            Guilt washed over him. Loki had been terrified earlier when Thor woke him. He had looked as if he expected a beating, or worse, torture. Perhaps it wasn’t Loki’s fault.
            “Can you tell who it is by the magic?” Thor asked. Despite trying to keep his emotions out of his voice, he sounded strained.
            “No,” The healer shook her head, “If the being was here, I would be able to tell. However, the magic is untraceable.”
            Thor closed his eyes and felt the pulse of his anger move through the veins of his neck. He sucked in several breaths before scrubbing his face with his palms. He needed to remain calm. He could not explode. He had to reign in his temper—
            “Thor…?” Said god startled, and then looked down. Loki was drowsy but awake. His skin was back to its pale complexion, with only a bit of flush on his cheeks. When he caught Loki’s eyes, his anger melted. All doubts that Loki meant to hurt him were lost, as they always were when he showed him vulnerability.
            “Hey,” Thor murmured. He stroked the few strands of Loki’s hair out of his face and tucked it behind his ear. “How are you feeling?”
            Loki blinked several times, as if it took him extra energy to process Thor’s question. Then, his lips curled into a smile. “I feel great.”
            Thor furrowed his brows and looked at the nurse. This was not normal. “Is he alright?”
            “He is calm,” the healer looked over Loki’s body, “And content, I believe. Loki, are you in any pain?”
            “No,” Loki shook his head. He was the opposite. He felt, somehow, complete. He felt full, and not in the food sense. He felt like pieces that he had been missing were there, but he had no idea why.
            “Loki…” Thor hesitated, and then worried his lower lip with his teeth, “Where did you go last night? What happened?”
            “My chambers…”
            “Okay, so you were in your chambers… who else was there?”
            “No one…”
            “Loki,” Thor sighed and counted to ten. It was something that the doctor taught him on Midgard. It helped him from becoming the green beast. “Loki, please, who else was with you?”
            “No one, Thor. It was me and… well, myself.”
            “What do you mean?”
            “It… I conjured up something,” Loki flushed and tried not to think about what exactly he and his something did.
            “You what?” Thor frowned, obviously not following Loki’s train of thought.
            “Why are you so thick headed?” Loki groaned. He pinched the bridge of his nose and let out a sigh. “Do you recall my ability to create doubles?”
            “Yes,” Thor glared. Oh, he remembered. Those had gotten him into a lot of trouble all throughout childhood. Of course, Loki had thought it hilarious.
            “Well, I created one, and because you refused me…” Loki shrugged on the table and looked off to the side. He smirked a little at the blush crawling across the healer’s face.
            “You—“ Thor was sputtering again. His cheeks flared as he processed that Loki had—had fucked himself.
            “Yes,” Loki licked his lips. How could he explain that the thing had taken the shape of Yfulen instead of himself?
            “That does not explain the magic, Loki,” Thor murmured. He frowned at the fear that flickered over Loki’s face. “How could you mate with a…a…”
            “Double,” Loki ran his palm over his face, his thoughts rampant. He had conjured Yfulen’s image, not Yfulen. There was no conceivable way that it was truly him. He couldn’t possibly be mated, much less to Yfulen. He had been in his cell. He had to have been. “Who… who does the magic belong to?”
            “That we cannot tell, not without the owner being here,” the healer shifted nervously. “Should I retrieve the king?”
            “No! No, that will not be necessary,” Thor shook his head, “I will talk to the Allfather. We need to find the owner of this magic.” He trained his eyes on Loki, who blanched and turned his face to the side. Obviously, he was too uncomfortable with the whole ordeal to talk about it. Thor worked his jaw and offered his hand. “We should go, Loki. We need to find the owner of that magic.”
            Loki’s stomach became queasy. What if it had been Yfulen? What if it had been the Other? Vomit burned his throat. It couldn’t have been Yfulen. Conjuring him would have been too much. He had not been strong enough. The panic finally set in: it had to be the Other. The Other mated him, took him, claimed him. Made him his toy.
            The younger god lurched up from the table. He stumbled to the side and collapsed to his knees. Thor was behind him immediately, his strong hands holding him as he began to wretch. The constriction of Loki’s muscles made his whole body ache. He knew throwing up would not fix his predicament, but the thought of being claimed by that creature terrified him.
            “Loki, talk to me. What ails you? Loki,” Thor pulled Loki’s hair from his face and supported his upper body with his arm. He watched as Loki desperately gasped for breath, his whole body shuddering with each attempt.
            “What…what if it was him,” Loki squeezed his eyes shut, and then jerked. Every time he shut his eyes, he envisioned the Other—taking him, claiming him, torturing him. It caused a sheen of sweat to cover his body. The steps to the mating process… he had done all of them with the Other. He had unwillingly taken his saliva and seed, and of course, he was raped. It was everything but the blood exchange. The Other had licked and sucked blood from him, but Loki couldn’t recall doing the same.
            “Him?” Thor paused. Then it dawned on him: Loki was concerned about the Other. “Loki, I thought you said you used a double.”
            “It—it was supposed to be a double. It just… it transformed,” Loki admitted.
            “Transformed?” Thor helped Loki stand. He supported him around the waist. He was glad that the healer had left. She seemed to understand their need for privacy.
            “Into… into Yfulen,” Loki slid a glance over to Thor. He saw him tense, felt his muscles go rigid, and flinched. He knew that the better choice would have been Thor, but he couldn’t control his mind. It created what he wanted, and the illusion, or what he thought was an image, turned out to be Yfulen.
            “So,” Thor hesitated, “The best option for us would be to speak to Yfulen. Would he know?” Thor hated it. He hated it, but their only option was the creature sitting below them in a cell.
            “Yes… Yfulen would know,” Loki nodded and still avoided Thor’s gaze.
            “Well, we shall speak to him, then,” Thor knew that, even if he hated it, Yfulen would be the better of the two for Loki. Even then, the bond could be broken by death, and Yfulen was sentenced to execution. But then, how would Loki fare if Yfulen was his mate and they killed him for his crimes?
            Either option was grave for Loki, and as he helped Loki out of the room, he couldn’t help but feel guilty for his immediate blame on his brother.

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This particular chapter hit close to home for me. Because of my past (which stems from physical, emotional, and sexual abuse), I have little to no tolerance for "making love." I don't like have anything gentle. It's either hair pulling, dominating, and shaming, or nothing at all. It's just what I know, and unfortunately, therapy hasn't done too much for me. Yet.
Loki is struggling with the same thing.
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The Chitauri's Revenge