#Sakaar trash party

[veliseraptor]

Frostmaster for the ship meme if you’re still accepting them!

oh 100% ship it and I feel like I can still say that even where I am with the mcu. whatever my gripes with Ragnarok (and I had gripes, though I'm not going to talk about them) the fact that it presented me with the opportunity for the fucked up power dynamics dubcon Loki ship of my dreams...brilliant, thanks for that.

What made you ship it?

I don't remember if this was something where I, like, came out of the theater shipping it. I don't think I did but it was, I believe, fairly close. Certainly I started writing it pretty fast.

I think I just watched the interactions Loki and the Grandmaster had on screen and went "oh that's got some fucked up potential in there :D" and ran with it.

What are your favorite things about the ship?

The fucked up power dynamics dubcon Loki ship of my dreams.

When you have a character who is very powerful and strong-willed it can be hard to find a ship that gives you the opportunity to really break them, because you have to find someone who is even better at playing the power game than they are, and who are also more ruthless and meaner, and sometimes there aren't a lot of those to go around.

Having an apathetic, amoral, cosmically powerful hedonist to play around with was such a gift on this front and I really cannot overstate that. Especially fun the ways that I got to break Loki with his own strengths.

It was just very tasty for me in ways I don't get to indulge all that often.

Is there an unpopular opinion you have on your ship?

Based on the state of the tag the last time I ventured in it this is unpopular now, even if it wasn't necessarily at the time (some people were just loud):

The substantial number of "soft Frostmaster" shippers weren't just writing the most boring possible take on this ship, they were also actively writing against text and character in a way that was frankly laughable.

And I am going to put it that harshly, because that's what repeatedly calling me a "rape apologist" gets you.

[bw-after-dark]

This is such a Sakaar Thorki song

[infinitystoner]

The Serpent of Sakaar

READ ON AO3 | MASTERLIST

Summary: A handsome stranger complicates your life.

Pairing: Loki x Female Reader

Word count: 1.6k

Tags/Content: Flirting, Humor, Sexual Tension & Other Escapades on a Trash Planet, (Not Quite) Enemies to Lovers, Smuttish

Rating: Mature

The air is unbearably thick tonight. Potent. Sticky.

You slip through the crowd of chittering alien courtiers, concluding the only thing that will grant you reprieve from Sakaar’s never-ending bacchanalia is a nice, long bath. 

Dodging a purring hologram of the celestial who rules this bizarre realm, you wonder if anyone else ever grows tired of it – too much of a good thing or whatever. The unexpected pivot lands you in the middle of the throne room, and your eyes traitorously fall on the charming newcomer standing at the edge of the Grandmaster’s dais. 

The one they call Loki, although you doubt that’s his true name. 

You’re well aware of the rumors, having started many of them yourself. Of course, it has absolutely nothing to do with envy and everything to do with boredom. At least, that’s what you tell yourself as each exceedingly outlandish lie leaves your lips and falls upon greedy ears. 

All you know for certain is that Loki is the bane of your existence after snaking his way into the high order’s inner circle and winning the favor of the Grandmaster within days – effectively disrupting the long con you’ve painstakingly exacted these past years and swiftly replacing it with one of his own. 

And even though you hate that you recognize something familiar in him, you concede he is quite the gifted rogue. Executing each stratagem with ease. Imparting every countermove so effortlessly. 

It’s maddening. He’s maddening. 

His voice carries over the uproarious mix of music and chatter, regaling his audience with an undoubtedly embellished tale. And now he’s summoned your attentions, too. Dark curls rest gracefully atop pewter pauldrons, a garish blend of sapphire and citrine draping over his lean, leather-clad form. Cunning and handsome. The nerve of it all. 

You glance at your own flamboyant attire. Beneath your bodice, an iridescent swirl of vermilion and silver flows to your ankles. You look like flayed salmon. But, if it pleases the Grandmaster… 

Loki’s boisterous laugh shakes you from your thoughts and he turns on his heel, catching your unwary gaze. You ignore the stutter of your heart and the warm tingling in your core, instead focusing on how his regal brow furrows and his forced smile falls. But, as the facade quickly returns and he excuses himself from the revelry, his eyes – never breaking from your own – spark with intensity. 

You have to get out of here. Now.

Ducking behind a group of faceless creatures, you shuffle along the gilded perimeter of the room, adrenaline coursing through your veins. The din of the party echoes off the walls, the unrelenting buzz pulsing in your temples and settling in the crevices of your mind. The discomfort results in a moment of hesitation, and you glance over your shoulder, but Loki vanishes into the crowd. 

A portal to your left beckons with a soft, mechanical hum and you exhale, walking through the opening.

“Leaving so soon? I do hope I’m not the cause of your early departure.” 

It takes a few seconds for your eyes to adjust to the glaringly bright corridor, but there he is, just ahead, leaning against the hexagonal archway, a satisfied smirk on his infuriatingly gorgeous face. 

“Don’t flatter yourself,” you lie, squaring your shoulders and continuing your journey to the elevators.

“Things were getting a bit monotonous,” he offers, effortlessly falling in step beside you. “And I always find a nice, long bath invigorating after, well, after anything really.” 

His words cause your feet to falter slightly – surely he can’t… but what if? Thoughts whirring, you frantically push the salacious image of Loki disrobing and stepping into a bath from your mind.

“I take it you agree,” he taunts, opening the control panel next to the elevator. “Which level?” 

“71X-P.” What an ass.

Loki punches the code for the top-level suites, muttering something under his breath. 

“I beg your pardon?” you ask, stepping into the small space as the partition opens. The two of you ascend into the darkened sky – the jagged, glimmering expanse of the city on the other side of the glass shrinking beneath you. 

“Oh,” he says. “I was unaware we reside in the same wing of this so-called palace. How fortuitous.” 

“Indeed.” The word comes out more biting than intended.  

Loki tuts. “I’m beginning to think you don’t like me very much.” 

You perch on the guardrail, refusing to give him more than a playful roll of your eyes before pretending to inspect your nails. 

“But perhaps that’s just another of your machinations?” Loki hums, a mask of feigned contemplation crawling across his face as he stalks closer. Widening his stance, he cages you against the unyielding windowpane with his arms.

“Loki,” you warn, the warmth in your hips flaring back to life like embers reigniting beneath a thin layer of ash. Can he sense how wildly your heart is beating? 

“Ah, so you do know my name. Although I must admit, darling, I’ve grown fond of the Serpent of Sakaar.” 

He knows. He knows, and now what? Will he convince the Grandmaster to order a fight between you and his beloved champion? Or perhaps he’ll have you evicted from the palace? A life out there with the scrappers might be the only thing worse than a life in here under the thumb of a deranged celestial.

Everything is moving too fast, yet time stands still. Such is the way on Sakaar. Your stomach drops, settling somewhere beneath your feet as the lift reverses its trajectory, plummeting you towards a fate you aren’t prepared for. Yet a quick glance through the glass confirms you’re still steadily climbing up, up– 

“You know, you’re quite…” Loki pauses, tracing the pattern of the silver cuff adorning your bicep with his forefinger. The rapid cadence of your breath cuts through the charged air, entwining with the weight of his gaze as it locks onto your parted lips. 

When his eyes flit back to yours, the striking green of his irises is nearly eclipsed by his expanding pupils. “Clever.” 

“I- I’m not sure what you mean.” 

“Ah, but you do. And I must express my sincerest gratitude. Everyone here is so curious about my origins.” Loki raises an eyebrow, his fingertips ghosting a trail up your arm and across your collarbone. “And your crafty little rumors created the perfect illusion in which to hide. Even En Dwi Gast himself believes the stories to be true.” 

“I find the best lies are the ones shrouded in truth,” you retort, regaining a modicum of composure when Loki’s jaw twitches at your subtle accusation. 

“Such awful words from such sweet lips,” he says with an impish grin, brushing the back of his fingers along your jaw before tilting your face upwards — so close, too close, to his own. 

“And do you think me wicked?” you say breathlessly, resting your hands on his shoulders.

“No more so than I consider myself,” he replies, the pad of his thumb tugging at your bottom lip. It’s a lie of omission, but as his cool breath fans over your heated skin, you realize you don’t care if his words hold truth or not. 

Loki’s nose nudges yours, and any lingering apprehension fades away, an unfamiliar sensation enveloping you. It’s intoxicating and comforting and sets your skin aflame in each place his lips make contact – first the corner of your mouth, then just beneath your jaw, down the column of your throat, and back up again. 

“You’re divine,” he murmurs, and you understand what it is you’re feeling. Intimacy. 

His lips finally connect with yours and you melt into the kiss, curling your hands around the nape of Loki’s neck. Yet he hesitates to deepen it, pulling back each time your tongue runs across the seam of his lips. But, oh, the way he groans when you tug at his hair and take his bottom lip between your teeth makes you clench, your desire making itself evident between your thighs. 

Through whatever alchemy is sparking between you, Loki senses it and slips his knee between your legs, causing you to moan in response.

“Oh, little fox,” he rasps, roughly bunching your skirts up in his fist before lifting your knee to his hip and slowly grinding into you. “Don’t tease me. I couldn’t bear it.” 

If you had lovers before Loki, you can’t recall them – not now that he’s scraping his teeth over the sensitive skin below your ear and bringing you to the edge of ecstasy with each deliberate roll of his hips. He tilts his head, lips parting as his tongue finally slides over yours. It’s tender and warm and you ache for him. 

“Level seventy-one X P. The Grandmaster welcomes you home,” a voice announces as the elevator door whooshes open.

Loki breaks the kiss and presses his forehead to yours, puffing out a laugh. “So, fancy that bath?”

“Mm, sounds delightful,” you purr, grabbing his hand and leading him into the hall. His purposeful footsteps reverberate throughout the space, but you barely make it five steps before he pins you against a cobalt door. 

“Stay with me,” Loki whispers earnestly, smiling when you softly kiss him in agreement. 

You continue to kiss along his beautiful neck as he meddles with a beeping keypad just above your shoulder, drinking in the scent of him for the first time. He smells like earth and bergamot – with just a hint of something familiar you can’t quite place, yet it grounds you. 

Allowing yourself another inhale, you gasp as it finally hits you: He smells of the ancient forests of Asgard. 

Of home. 

But that… that’s impossible. 

“Just for tonight,” Loki says when he feels your body tense.   

“Just for tonight,” you repeat as you follow him into his rooms. 

You always were a liar.

[grandthorkiday]

~~~ Grandthorki Day ~~~ Four (4) More Days ~~~

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“You don’t love me,” Loki said. He clawed for control, trying to close his mouth, but the words kept coming. His face burned with humiliation. “I don’t - I don’t know if you ever have, but you certainly don’t now. And that, that burns, as it has burned since you didn’t come for me when I needed you most-”

Stop it stop it stop it, stop talking, you don’t want to say this.

The aphrodisiac had well and truly taken effect by now. He was sweating, overheated, desire pulsing in his belly, excruciatingly aware of his cock, the heaviness in his balls. He squirmed, gasped, “Grandmaster,” and only just managed to bite back the please.

“Ah,” he said. “Not - none of that, sweetums. Stay focused.”

“I fell for such a long way,” Loki said, hating every word that was dragged out of his chest as though by a fishhook. “And when I landed, I was not alone. They found me, they pulled me apart and I was refashioned - I called for you, I screamed but you never came, no one ever - ahh.”

Thor was shaking his head with a mixture of bafflement and horror, as though he didn’t know, he must have known. “It’s not true,” he said. “I didn’t-”

“Quiet, now!” the Grandmaster sang out. “Loki’s talking, Sparkles. Don’t you want to hear what he has to say? You’re finally communicating.”

~from Speak Every Man the Truth by @veliseraptor

[bereft-of-frogs]

and I wither underneath | 1.8k

let the human in (whumptober 2020) | day 2: In the Hands of the Enemy (collars)

Fandom: MCU | Rating: Explicit | Loki/the Grandmaster | Warnings: implied/referenced torture, sexual content of an extremely dubiously consensual nature

Thor catches with him fiddling with the seam of his shirt collar one night, starting off into space and absentmindedly running his fingers over the stitches.

“Are you all right?”

Loki’s lips twitch into the shadow of a smile. “Of course.”

Loki is haunted by four collars.

[read on ao3]

This was another prompt I had another idea for but it was getting out of hand/too complicated, and the day I decided it was going to be too much to write under a deadline, this idea came to me and I churned it out in a day. It’s like 100% pure angst, there’s nothing else. XD Whoops. It’s a bit...yeah...I have no excuses.

As always, likes/replies/reblogs/frogs always appreciated! <3

[gaslightgallows]

“Tear off the mask. Your face is glorious.” Loki/Grandmaster?

(Also requested by @lovely-little-loki)

"You're someone underneath,you know," said the Grandmaster, stroking his fingertips fondly downLoki's taut face. "You're really someone."

Every muscle and sinew in Loki's naked body was drawn astight and as tense as though he was on the rack, although all he was tied tothe bed with were soft silk cords, and he dripped with so much sweat, thesheets beneath him were drenched.

"You know who I am, Grandmaster," he said,breathlessly.

"Oh, sure, I know your name. But you, the real you..." The Grandmaster drew his hand idly down Loki's throat and up tohis lips. Without waiting to be told, Loki sucked a forefinger into his mouth."Mmm, that's nice. Distracting, but nice."

The Grandmaster swept his hand down Loki's torso, grazinghim with his nails, making him twitch and moan. His cock was painfully hard butthe teasing fingers when nowhere near it.

"I think," said the Grandmaster, putting his lipsclose to Loki's ear, "that you haven't shown me the real you. And I'll betthe real you under there is just... glorious."

"I've been nothing but truthful--"

"Oh! Gorgeous, that's the first really blatant lieyou've ever told me." Instead of displeasure, the master of Sakaar soundeddelighted. "That's cute, that's... really cute. I mean, don't do it toooften, but once in a while, it's really--oh, nope, now you've gone anddistracted me again." He bit Loki's earlobe, too hard to be playful."Knock it off."

Loki replied with a strangled yelp, and his hips jerked uppleadingly.

"You haven't shown me everything you're hiding underthat mask of yours," the Grandmaster murmured, finally finally closing his hand around Loki's cock, "and you know how greedy I am,sweetheart. So let's just see if we can't... tear that mask off, hmm?"

(Find me on Patreon and Ko-fi!)

[prince-aziraphale]

Dark Frostmaster requested by @drachenkinder​ 

Please don’t re-upload or post to external sites

[hjbender]

What do you think of Grandthorki? Sakaar Trash Orgies? That good ol' fashion horror porn where everyone is miserable and the Grandmaster is the only one having fun

Oh man I am aaall for it. 

The Grandmaster is one of those rare villains who is likeable and funny (thanks, Jeff) but yet totally demented and megalomaniacal, a complete despot with deeply perverse (and creative, gotta hand it to him) tastes. Throw in an opportunistic trickster who’s just trying to survive and a grief-stricken thundergod whose world has been turned upside down and EUREKA welcome to the plotmine. Hope you brought your pickaxe because  

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 𝓽𝓱𝓲𝓼 𝓼𝓱𝓲𝓽 𝓲𝓼 𝓰𝓵𝓲𝓽  *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

The great thing is it’s very flexible. You can go the lighthearted route like what was seen in Ragnarok, with lots of banter and humor and sass, where En Dwi is a flirtatious, flamboyant sugardaddy while a flustered Thor tries to defend his brother’s honor, it’s comedic gold. 

Or you can take a stroll down Darkfic Street.

Fuck or die scenarios. Loki whoring himself—willingly or unwillingly—to achieve a position of power (or save his own skin). Thor being tortured and Loki being made to watch, or vice versa. Tentacle rape. Mechanoid sex. Sex no one has heard of yet. Near-death kinks—or snuff entertainment. Erotic theater with an audience of thousands. Alien orgies. Mind control. Brainwashing. Forced breeding. Pimping the shapeshifter. Slavery and subjugation. BDSM with no safety words. Drugging. Murder plots. Whump. Angst. Horror. All the dark things our creeping lizard brains love to explore. Not everything can be sunshine and blue skies. It’s gotta rain sometime, and I say go ahead and get wet. 💦💦

[loxxxlay]

Tags: Grandthorki, ThorLoki, Thorki, Loki, Thor, Valkyrie, Grandmaster, noncon, dubcon, mutual noncon, suicidal ideation, suicide attempt, (no one will die), other tags to be added 

(Please heed warnings and re-check them every chapter.)

Summary:  Months into his and Thor's captivity, Loki is growing weary. They've lost autonomy of almost everything, from their freedom and bodies, to even their love. Loki struggles for control over the last option available to him—their lives. It's only a matter of convincing Thor that death is a kind of escape.

(Thank you to everyone who beta-ed! You’re listed in the author’s notes! <3)

To open his eyes, Loki had to blink through a thick layer of sweat. Every muscle in his body ached of strain, and his nose recycled each stale breath, musty and stagnant and hot. He longed to shake himself out, but he couldn’t move. Thor’s weight was crushing him.

“Thor,” Loki croaked, but it barely made a sound. Rusty phlegm coated the walls of his throat. Without water, the dryness peeled away his voice, layer by layer.

He struggled. At the very least, he longed for a breath of fresh air that wasn’t an echo of Thor’s or his own. Loki craned his neck against Thor’s forehead until he managed to get his chin propped on the cushion beneath him. Cool air soothed his lips, and Loki stared at what he could see—party-goers, dressed, half-dressed, and nude, lay scattered about the room, sleeping off whatever drug had spiked their drinks.

Loki closed his eyes and exhaled. He remembered last night in vague flashes. Strangers and Thor, and then just Thor—his brother—fucking him dozens of times into oblivion. His one blue eye screwed shut, his lips clenched into a tight line, as if he had any hope, even drugged, of pretending he didn’t enjoy it. That he wasn’t mercilessly thrusting into Loki again and again. That Loki wasn’t begging him for more.

[Read the rest on Ao3]

[dictionarywrites]

Ooh #56- “You’re fun to touch.” in the Sakaar Trash Party, please!

My Ao3 | Send requests | Tip jar! | meme

“I don’t really like...” Loki cuts himself off, gritting his teeth together as he takes another step back, right back to the edge of the balcony. The Grandmaster is smiling, his lips quirked into the easy expression and his golden eyes glittering with a mischief. Loki’s skin is crawling, and he cannot stand it, cannot stand Sakaar, wishes to leave, wishes to escape--

“Don’t like, uh, don’t like what, sweetheart?” the Grandmaster asks softly, his eyes still shining but his lips parted in a mask of innocence. Loki presses himself back against the low wall, feeling it dig into the tops of his thighs, and when the Grandmaster gets closer, Loki can feel the heat that radiates from him. 

“I don’t like-- Being touched, I’m not... Don’t, please.” The Grandmaster chuckles, and he ignores him, reaching out. Loki shudders when the Grandmaster’s fingers settle against his jaw, his thumb playing over Loki’s chin, and no, no, for years nobody has touched him like this and it was safe, it was fine, it was-- “Don’t,” he all but whines. “Grandmaster, please, I can be one of your scrappers, you really don’t need to--”

“Sweetie,” the Grandmaster murmurs, and he slides in closer. His hand settles on Loki’s hip, and Loki’s skin is alight with it, burning, burning. Ever since he’d come back, since his body had worked through the Dokkalf poison, his body has just-- Everything is so sensitive, so unbearably sensitive Loki can’t manage it, and the heat of the Grandmaster’s fingers set Loki’s skin alight. The very touch is painful!

“It hurts,” Loki says, desperately, trying to scramble back farther and not quite managing it, his breathing shallow. “Grandmaster, you... Please, Grandmaster, I really cannot bear it, and I-- Mmf--” The Grandmaster’s hand presses hard against his mouth, palm against his lips, and Loki whines in agony, his eyes squeezing shut. His skin is roiling like a turbulent sea, and he feels like he will be sick, like he will--

Loki shudders. A strange magic is settling on his skin, soothing away the painful overstimulation, and he feels himself melt. He whimpers: the heat on his mouth becomes pleasant, warm, instead of painful and burning, and he looks at the Grandmaster with watering eyes as he slowly drags his fingers up Loki’s chest.

“It’s just-- It’s, uh, fun to touch you, sweetheart,” the Grandmaster murmurs, and Loki shivers, pressing right against him. He oughtn’t, he oughtn’t, but-- Touch! Without pain... “You’re fun to touch.”

Loki breathes in reedily through his nose, and when the Grandmaster draws away his hand, he shivers. “Please,” Loki whispers.

“Please stop?” the Grandmaster murmurs, slowly pulling his hands away, and Loki lets out an awful sound of loss, grasping at the front of his robes and pulling them flush together once more. It’s unspeakable. His body surges at the contact, at contact without agony, and Loki lets out a keen of noise, a cry--

The Grandmaster kisses him, and Loki sees stars.

                                                              ---

It doesn’t extend to anybody else. A girl catches his arm in the hallway, and Loki convulses - no one touches him, no one else. Just the Grandmaster. 

(But it’s something, isn’t it? Doesn’t that make it worth it?)

[veliseraptor]

Which ship do you like better between Loki/Grandmaster and Loki/Mobius? And if you don’t mind, I’ve been wondering what your options on Loki/Mobius as a ship are?

oh, easily Loki/Grandmaster. even if I was interested in Loki/Mobius (which I'm just not, really, I still don't really get the appeal of it and I suspect I won't because as a character dynamic it's just not one that draws me) it doesn't scratch at all the same itch.

because while Mobius does hold a position of power over Loki, he's not specifically on a power trip which is what's so much fun about Loki/Grandmaster. Loki/Mobius has some fucked up potential, yes, but not nearly on the level that Loki/Grandmaster, imo, has built in, and I suspect the shipping of Loki/Mobius isn't probably...leaning into the power dynamics aspect anyway? I don't know this but it's my guess/feeling.

so yeah, very different ships, one of which hits my degenerate desires and one of which doesn't particularly interest me.

[movedto-dazaipositive]

beta needed?

I need a beta for this fic. E rated, around 2k, may be the first in a series. the initial parts will be Frostmaster - more on the Sakaar Trash Party part side of things. I haven’t decided on an endgame pairing yet. 

the fic will contain varying degrees of:

self harm

rape/noncon and dubcon

suicidal ideation

abuse [parental, domestic, sexual]

dissociation and trauma

dysphoria and cissexism/intersexism [contains intersex Loki, so]

heavy stuff haha. what i’m looking for right now is NOT spag checks or line edits - I can do those myself lol - but somebody to read for action and characterization and save me from going in circles with my story. and if you can beta for future installments and kick my ass into writing that helps too. DM me if you’re interested!

[dyns33]

Wizard Y/N, seeing Loki’s memories from Sakaar : “You were having fun.” 

Loki : “I was trying to survive.” 

Wizard Y/N : “While having fun.”

Loki : “I had to tell tons of stories, do magic tricks, suc... do things to please the Grandmaster, so he’ll love me enough to let me stay. Yes, I was drinking, I had a room, and sometimes it was not that awful, but I was still stuck on a trash planet, alone, after losing everything. Sorry if I was trying to light my mood, darling.”

Wizard Y/N : “It was not a reproach, relax, you don’t have to explain yourself.” 

Loki : “... Is it about me being bored with you again ? My love, we have parties at Stark’s place all the time.” 

Wizard Y/N : “There are not like that. I also saw Asgardian’s parties. You were a real roisterer back then.” 

Loki, purring : “I was young and a sad fool. Now I have you my sweet. We have private parties in our bedroom all the time and it’s perfect.” 

Doctor Strange, sitting on the other end of the library : “I’m still here, stop now.”

[grandthorkiday]

~ Grandthorki Day ~ Seven More Days ~

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"Shut UP!" Loki cried, throwing the bottle to the ground. It broke, alcohol and glass spraying everywhere. Sparkles scrambled back and yelped. 

That only made him more upset. "You don't get to make feel sorry for you! You drove me away! I had to make a life here! Even if it was a lie! Why did you come here?! WHY DID YOU COME HERE?! WHY COULDN'T YOU LET ME FORGET?!" 

He fell to the floor, cutting one of his hands on the glass. It hardly mattered. He sobbed into the floor among the glass, dregs of alcohol, and colorful toys.  All hail King Loki, where he belonged. Lest he ever forgot.

~from The Choices Made by @red-shadow-wolf-19

[bereft-of-frogs]

where is your sting | chapter 2: the ghost

Rating: Explicit | Major Archive Warnings: Graphic Depictions of Violence, Rape/Non-con (please see additional warnings in the author’s note)

Loki is knocked from the bifrost by Hela and falls to a glittering, maddening cage.

Or: what happened on Sakaar.

- - -

“What?” Loki snaps now. The ghost on the sofa remains silent. “What do you want, Thor?”

“To check on you, is that not enough? I thought you were dead for two years, brother, I wanted to see you.”

“See, and now you are dead, my brother.” He’s still a little bit drunk. The drugs and alcohol still make his head swim. There is still a sweet coating on his tongue. “And now you are haunting me. Unappreciated, I assure you.”

Thor’s ghost just won’t leave him alone.

Chapter 2 is now up!

I definitely had a lot of fun writing this. I hope y’all aren’t tired of Sakaar fics yet because...I still have a lot of ideas for crunchy Sakaar angst, even now, two years later. So, it really doesn’t seem like I’m slowing down on this setting, ha. As I say in the end note, I am trying to pare down the WIP list before I start on anything new but...yeah, I think I’m going to be lingering in this corner of fandom a while longer ha.

I also just love writing stories about ghosts. I hope y’all aren’t tired of ghosts.

Thanks for reading! I hope you enjoyed and that you all have a lovely weekend! Happy Friday! As always, comments/likes/reblogs/frogs always appreciated! <3

[Chapter 1 | Chapter 2]

[gaslightgallows]

DIS IS HELLA FROStMAStER “Oh honey, I’d never be jealous of you.”

(Rated Mature to be on the safe side.)

(Read on AO3)

A too-familiar hand plucked Loki out of the crowd of partygoers. "Hey there, gorgeous," the Grandmaster purred, pulled Loki close against his chest and running a proprietary thumbnail up the side of his neck. "Been awhile since I've seen you."

"Oh, only a few days, surely." Loki switched on his brightest smile and hoped it didn't look too pasted on.

"Hmm." The music was pounding loud enough to make the floor shake beneath them (or maybe that was the dancers, or the orgy) but he could still hear the Grandmaster all too easily over the thumps and the beeps and the slaps. "Seems, uh, seems like a lot longer to me." The Grandmaster grinned and dipped his head to press his lips under the line of Loki's jaw, and to suck red marks into his flesh that just tipped over pleasurable into painful. "Been busy, have you?"

"Ahhh, ah, yes, yes I have. I've been--busy."

"I heard you've been spending some time with Scrapper-142. That true?"

"N-no, of course not, I'd never--"

"Oh, now I don't like that." The Grandmaster rested his chin on Loki's shoulder and let out a disappointed sigh. "I know lying's your stock in trade and all, but really..."

"...We've seen each other. Once or twice."

"That's better," said the Grandmaster brightly, and returned to his pointed exploration of Loki's throat. The hand holding Loki's bicep shifted to the middle of his spine, pressing him closer, the other hand shoved itself abruptly down the front of his trousers. "Had fun, did you?"

"Yes," Loki answered, truthfully enough, and with the Grandmaster's fingers curled around his balls, momentarily unable to think of a convincing lie. "I hope--ngh--I hope this doesn't make you jealous, Grandmaster."

"Hmm? Oh no, never. Scrapper-142's my favorite, she brings me all the best stuff. And you, oh honey, I'd never be jealous of you." The Grandmaster lifted his head from Loki's neck (his lips were reddened from the pressure and almost looked bloody) and kissed Loki hard, squeezing his testicles until Loki whimpered. "You two have all the fun you want. Just, ah, let me know first next time, eh? So I don't worry you've gotten bored with me."

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