
Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/1889130.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Graphic_Depictions_Of_Violence, Major_Character_Death, Rape/Non-Con,
      Underage
  Category:
      F/M
  Fandom:
      Thor_-_All_Media_Types, The_Avengers_(Marvel)_-_All_Media_Types
  Relationship:
      Loki_(Marvel)/Original_Female_Character(s)
  Additional Tags:
      Warning:_Loki, Loki_Does_What_He_Wants, Mild_torture, Loki_Angst, Post-
      Thor:_The_Dark_World, Loki_smut, Forced_Orgasm, Rape, Porn_With_Plot,
      Avenging_Frigga, Princess_Rape, Death, rape_porn, Triggers
  Stats:
      Published: 2014-07-03 Words: 961
****** To Avenge Mother Part 2 ******
by Twisted_Melons
Summary
     Second and final part of Loki raping Malekith's daughter as revenge
     for killing his mother, Frigga. Extremely explicit. Trigger warnings.
Notes
     If you have not read part one, I urge you to do so now as it is a
     thoroughly enjoyable mini series if read in it's intended order.
     Thank you! P.S., I've had quite a few people ask who Jessica/
     Jensicara is and why I keep using those names. I use that name often
     because it was the name of an ex of mine and I'ts kind of just a way
     for me to vent when I don't have a pre-assigned name. I wouldn't wish
     any actual ill against her, but It's just a little something to get
     me through the day. Thank you.
Loki began vigorously thrusting into her core. Each rough impact sending her
wide red eyes into a further state of hurt, cracking her piece by piece. His
brutal invasions of her being, entirely devoid of all but spite, lust, and a
deep-seated need for vengeance, stung her noble pride above the physical pain.
Jensicara continued to meet Loki's eyes but she knew she could not keep a
maintained composure for much longer. Loki halted inside of her, allowing her
just a moment to feel him, before fervidly regaining his pace. Though her
expression attempted to remain stern and unfeeling, tears began to generously
stream down the sides of her face, which flinched with each connection of their
hips. ''Call my name, pet.'' Loki purred into her ear. Her situation was
against her choosing, but never would she willingly obey an order from this
man. At that time, Loki conjured an iron dagger and drove it into Jensicara's
leg. The virulent metal scorched her flesh and muscle. ''Howl my appellation
like a thirsty wolf hailing its mate.'' Loki said as he twisted the noxious
knife blistering her thigh. ''Loki Laufeyson!'' She uttered through her heavy
breaths. ''Good pet.'' He mocked as he slowly removed the knife.
 Loki could feel his release rapidly approaching. Jensicara felt his hot breath
on her neck as he taunted her. '' You are not but a holster for me, a sheath of
which I can practice my will. Here I will teach you of your purpose.'' With
this, Loki spilled streaming loads of hot, pungent liquid deep inside of
Jensicara. She cried out and shook as she exploded as well. Being the god of
mischief Loki was far from finished, much to his dejection however, as was
Jensicara.
With the weakening of the spell ailing her, Jensicara used her magic to throw
Loki's own clones at him. She hastily freed herself and bolted to a wall. While
desperately searching for an exit, she retained a shield of energy about her.
The pain and heat between her legs meshing with the stinging of the dagger
wound was almost intolerable, but she knew if she were to escape this place and
return to protect her father, it was a necessity that she be strong. Loki's
magic savagely lacerated through her feeble means of protection with ease. The
young Dark Elf was in no way comparable to this deranged god driven by the
vengeance of pain. And yet, Jensicara continued to project spells unto him,
causing no more disturbance than that of the occasional light gash upon his
body. He continued to advance on her. Slowly, for there was no need to rush.
Loki roughly grabbed her arms and pinned them above her head in his hand. He
pressed his body up against hers, pushing her back into the wall he hovered his
lips just over hers as he teased, ''I presume you were attempting to make way
to your father? Fret not, my fatuous goddess, for soon enough you shall be
remet.'' With this, Loki cast another spell and promptly had the
Svartalfheimian princess lying unconscious in his arms. This was the end of the
projected memory.
Now, Loki stands before the fallen king of the Dark Elves and his brutally
ravaged daughter.
He was the god of mischief. And his one true friend was about to be avenged.
''Release him.'' Loki said shortly to his doubles. Malekith stood as tall as he
could facing this demonic man, tears burning the corners of his eyes. ''Have
you nothing to say in the presence of your god?'' Loki chided, his face
dangerously close to Malekith's. ''Now kneel.'' To his pure astonishment, the
elf had taken a knee without any sign of angered declination. But before this
surprise could set with Loki, Malekith had dashed for his daughter, instantly
transporting her at his touch and draining him of the very last of his power.
Loki sauntered over to where his meek prey lie waiting for his boot to meet its
flesh, which all too vehemently it did. Pulling by Malekith's hair, he lifted
the elf into the air before throwing him violently across the room, embedding
him high in the dense marble and allowing him to fall the way back down. The
groans he elicited from this fallen king brought more pleasure to him than any
maiden, victory, or acknowledgement ever could. Again he approached Malekith,
his walk now more resembling a child's skipping than a prince's stride. He took
hold of the back of Malekith's undershirt and relieved him of his armour and
chainmail before throwing him to the floor on his back.
Reconjuring the iron dagger, he slowly carved crude lines unto his victim's
torso and delighted in the sights and sounds of the forbidden metal scorching
his skin and the following cries of true agony erupting from this once-great
force. Once his wailing had subsided, Loki dragged Malekith to the front of the
palace, where a tall metal beam with a spiked peak had been prepared for this
moment. Malekith was stripped completely naked and Loki used his sorcery to
lift the other male high above the beam. Looking down, Malekith could see only
his castle and strange red smears above his entry way which he may have made
out, were he not falling so fast.
Loki watched with hungry eyes as the thing which he had hated most was
mercilessly impaled by his hand, forever marking his place above the people of
Svartalfheim. He stepped back to admire the message he had sent to this pitiful
planet, which was quite clear.
The ruler of the Dark Elves, Malekith the Accursed, stripped naked, broken, and
impaled above his conquered palace, marked with Svartalfheimian blood reading,
''FOR FRIGGA OF ASGARD.''
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