Kneel before your king

Submit imagines or one-shots about Loki in the Ask box. I do not own any gifs. If a gif is watermarked, I will tag the creator. If you see a gif you made, and you have not watermarked it, tell me and I'll tag it. Or I will take down the post, depending on what you request.

[loki-imagine]

Hi. I have some questions in connection with the blog. First of all, are you the only one who posts or is there another admin? Do you post imagines submitted by other users or are they your own ideas? And do you know other imagine blogs related to Loki?

Hello, I am the only one who runs this blog, and sadly I don't update it quite that often. The imagines I post are all submitted, I think 3 or 4 of them are mine. And I don't know of any but I am sure there are some.

[loki-imagine]

Understanding Her... (chapter 8)

Author’s Note: I know, it’s been a very very long time, but I had some great difficulties during my last term of university, I failed another placement and had loads of extensions and essay to write and was stressed up to my eyeballs and was having a mental breakdown, so anything ‘fun’ was put on hold until I could think straight again. But here it is, chapter 8 of Understanding Her…! (The whole story will now be written and posted on my wattpad so it’s all in one place and is easier to find.)

Previously

He defiantly finished his story there, his eyes desperately searching Artemisia’s face for some sign of emotion. This mystery woman he had meet so long ago simply knew nothing of that night; a simple pleasure though it may have been to merely talk to a stranger… But to him it was a treasured memory of the night he felt truly at home; in her eyes. The eyes of a long lost friend. Those eyes that now had no recollection of the facts, but had remembered the connection. And in those eyes he stared, just then, still feeling as at home in them as he had before. His first friend, his only friend. He had long since thought her dead. Her promise to return faded into a memory; yet in his mind he could not bare to consider her purposely not returning. Thus, he had shaped the memory, devising that her promise was not a promise at all, merely a wishful thought she had expressed. For he could not bare having been abandoned by those soul piercing brown eyes.

Chapter 8

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"When?" Artemisia breathed.

He spoke with such conviction and solidarity, she could not not believe him. Only, she doubted that she would ever dare do anything as adventitious as running off to find a whole other dimension, steal a dress and crash a royal party. She may have daydreamed of such adventures to pass the day, but she never so much as even dared fake illness to get out of work and go shopping. She didn’t even dare go on a date with a guy she’d known for two years because it was too much of a ‘change’.

"How can I have been where you said I have been and I have no recollection of it? I don’t even have any black spots, no missing memories, no missing days. Everything… Everything in my mind makes sense, except this." She let the words form themselves, as her confusion and disbelief grew.

"You were there; in flesh and blood. As true as you are here now…" His brow furrowed, "You think I would conjure this up? Tell you lies, trick you? For what purpose? Do you think I would tell you such a story for… For what?!" He crescendoed as his confusion mirrored Artemisia’s. He voice rose to a stern bark, just a few decibels away from yelling at her like an aggressive and wounded animal.

Albeit, feeling offended by his tone, Artemisia ignored her defensive instinct - as she always has done - deciding it best to humour him. Although she could not deny his conviction, she could not truly believe it in her heart until she had logical evidence. After all having such a logical and factual based career as she did, only meant that her habits and her judgement had always been driven to reflect that. Her parents may have been professors in science and history, but her choice in degree had only been a more sturdy version of theirs; law and economics. Worthy of the respect her professor parents, but the more logical degree choice they had driven her to. Not the free-spirited philosophy and other creative courses her subconscious mind had been driven towards.

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[loki-imagine]

[A/N: this one shot is just a mix of some imagines, sorry it’s long-ish. I have submitted and typed this on my phone so I apologize for any errors in advance. If you have any question on the one shot or just would like to give feedback please come to my blog, I am sure the owner of this blog will have a link to mine at the end. Anyway, enjoy the imagine! :)]

[loki-imagine]

[A/N this is a one shot to the imagine of Loki seeing you in the shower. This was typed and submitted on my phone and if there are any errors I apologize in advance. If there are any questions, or just wish to leave some feed back, please come over to my blog, I am sure the mun will leave a link to do so. So please enjoy! :)]

The warm water hit your back as you stood in the glass shower and ran the conditioner on your hands through your hair. You hummed lightly and before you knew it you where signing lightly. Today had been stressful and tiring, although you haven’t done much of anything. You stayed in the silence of the loft that was sealed off to the world. You went through your laptop and erased all you knew of the life you had. Installed a software your cousin gave you to keep your whereabouts on the internet unknown from the world. The fact that you had disappear just because you just happened to be at the wrong place at the wrong time, was, was…wrong. Not that you were much of a contribute to the world or society, but still, being closed off to everything is a bit much. The water was getting cooler as you washed your body with some shower gel you packed up when you where being rushed out your original loft by Thor and Loki of Asgard, who knew from an encounter with your cousin durning one of his festive parties to celebrate God knows what. That you where forced to go to because he bought you a pricey dress, which he wouldn’t tell you the price that way you could pay him back, so the least you could do was go to the party. Even though you hate to admit it you had a fun time. You caught up with people you never expected to catch up with, you met the Avengers, you met Loki. The god of mischief whose gaze you couldn’t escape when you talked for a small amount of the night. As much as you knew that it most likely was no where near true, you couldn’t help but think, that he, that Loki, had taken a liking to you. You couldn’t help but grin at the thought. Your grin disappeared as you heard the door handle turn and someone barge in. “Before you say anything, I am not here because I want to be. Your flirtatious cousin sent me-…” Loki stopped mid sentence as he took in the sight of a completely naked you. You tried to cover as much as you could with your towel lying on the sink. Loki smirked and looked you up and down. His gaze studies you. “Loki!” You yelled at him a red blushing mess. “Get out!” Loki chuckled deeply. “I must say, from being related to Stark you carry none of his features.” Loki licked his upper lip. You glanced at your towel quickly but not quick enough, because Loki followed your glance. He grinned a mischievous grin. “Loki.” You begged. Loki walked to the sink, grabbed your towel, and threw it over his shoulder. You closed your eyes and whined. “See you in the common room.” He said and gleefully strolled out of the bathroom to the living room. “We have to go over some room requirements you have to meet for me.” He said as he hummed awaiting to see a naked you in his presence once again. You put the pieces together and Tony must’ve set it up so Loki would be staying with you to protect you from whatever wants you. “Son of a bitch.” You muttered, fearing whatever was up the god of mischief’s sleeve.

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Understanding Her... (Chapter 7)

Written by: ava-v-f-nineteen

Previous

And that she did. At a loss for words, the empty shell of a king sat. He simply sat and observed the increasingly intriguing creature adjacent to him. This wonderful creature he knew so much and yet so little about. This wonderful creature who knew him, yet did not know him. This creature who’s heart was the same as he had recalled, yet who’s eyes were darker and more hollow than he had anticipated.

  Extending into the very depths of his mind, reaching for the most basic of functions, he leant forward and spoke, “You are not as you should be are you? You really are so much more.”

Chapter 7

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Puzzled by his words, as they hung heavily with their slight connotation, in her mind; Artemisia was now the one who sat silently. Her furrowing brow the only hint of emotion etched on her face.

Now this amused him, clearly. The corner of his mouth rose in a swift controlled smirk. “You are most endearing when you frown with confusion.”

It seemed to Artemisia that Loki was indeed not letting on to whatever it was that he knew, and although Artemisia new she had the patience to wait for him to reveal his secret to her (she had nothing like a high demanding job eating into every hour of her day anymore, she had the rest of we life to sit and wait), she could not help but want answers now. His increasing arrogance was only feeding Artemisia’s insatiable curiosity further; the undertones in his words slowly testing her patience. Fine, if you’re going to be cryptic, then I’ll be crude and cynic.

"What you mistake as endearing, is merely love of being the one who is in control; who is in the know. Seeing me confused simply fuels your desire to be the one with the advantage." Artemisia raised her eyebrows at him, inviting him to deny her words; to correct her. She raised her spoon of fruit and cream to her mouth, tasting the sweetness and she savoured the moment.

  The king continued to smirk, yet it was smirk of humour, admiration and of respect… “If you realise it is such, then why do you not try to change that? Put the sword back in your hand… Take back the fight?” He smiled inviting her to take up his challenge, as his demeanour straightened with self-righteousness.

  "Alas, you clearly do have the upper hand, as you clearly know something I do not. Something that concerns me, and I am assuming that that information concerns my reason for being here; why it was that you found me and brought me here. But it’s an undeniable fact that I do not know how it was you found me, or why you did. All I know is that the only reason I took your hand was because in your eyes I saw the pain and rejection I had experienced most of my life. I saw in your eyes what your heart looks like; I saw that you were as misunderstand and ignored as I have been. All because we were different; because we wanted to be ourselves, and we wanted more than what the world expected of us. We were born different and were expected to be normal. When we are not. We have the potential to give so much. That’s what we were born to do. To give. Not like some millionaire who gives all his money to charity. But like a wise man to a young boy. You and I, both of us, were never seen for the deep thinkers we are. We were never appreciated for the talents life bestowed upon us. You may have been born to be an intelligent ruler, where as I was born to be an empathetic, deep thinker. But we were both ignored as real people. So you may know something I do not, but I know something you do not. And I am willing I share that with you if you are willing to hear me?" Taking his silent intrigued expression as a sign, Artemisia continued, "You found me because you need me. I am the only person in a long time, possibly ever, to see you for who you really are. And I hardly know a single fact about you; all I know is what your eyes tell me."

  "Mia. Oh Mia." The king sat before her faded from existence, leaving behind just a man. No titles. No power. No the facade. No anger. Just a man. He breathed her name with such affection, like an ancient lover, wounded by the painful joy of seeing their soulmate return - conflicted by the pain they endured when their soulmate crushed their heart, and the joy of their soulmate returning regretful.

  "You remember nothing at all. Yet you see so much. When you took my hand, I knew even then that you did not see me as you once did. That you had forgotten everything about us. At first I thought perhaps it was shock, that seeing Asgard again would restore that memory, but still you walked beside me not knowing me. And still you do not now… You have forgotten me." His words floated through the air lethargically as his heart filled with the pain and weary disappointment of yet another person undermining him… Forgetting him. "Do you not recall our first encounter at all? Do you not remember? How can you speak as if you know me, as if you care so much, when you cannot even remember my face? That night? Did you merely forget over time, or did you forget me through choice?" He spoke not with anger, but with a weary tiresome disappointment; he trusted no one anymore, so had no room to feel betray, yet it was clear that a piece of him had hoped, but instead was now hurt.

  A past encounter? I have never seen his face before, I would remember that. I would definitely remember his face, it’s hardly a face worth forgetting…

  "I… When? Yours is not a face I would forget easily," she continued in a whisper, a light blush filling her cheeks, "or willingly."

  Loki’s eyes scanned her face; his gazed boring into her, searching for any sign of a lie. None was to be found. He inhaled steadily and sighed, giving in to her obvious plea for answers.

  "On your last visit to Asgard. On the night of Thurseblot; the feast of the full moon of January." Loki continued to add more and more detail to his story as he watched Artemisia’s face twist in more and more confusion. "Thor’s feast" he added with delicate, but sinister, venom and spite.

  "You were quite clearly not of royalty or nobility, judging by your attire. But they way you held yourself with confidence and walked in the shadows, so as not to draw attention to yourself, made sure that you did not stand out to any. Not to anyone but me of course. I pride myself for always observing all of the details, and I was the only one to notice you were not meant to be in the great hall as you were that night. I thought you may simply be a daring peasant from one of the villages, who had stolen the best dress they could find from their mother’s collection. But you proved me wrong on that front."

  Artemisia could not believe the words she was hearing, none of it triggered any forgotten memories, no flashes of details, no glimpses of it having once been a mere dream. None of it sounded real.

  "I followed you onto a quiet balcony, where I questioned you until you told me how you really came to be there." He paused surveying her bemused expression, "You really have no recollection of this? Of the whole night?" Loki’s face softened as he saw that she had no genuine memory of the events he relayed to her.

"You told me from the start you were mysterious, and though I thought it presumptuous of you at first, you proved yourself right, and proved me wrong once again. All I learnt about you was that you found your way here by a different means, of which you gave me enough clues to help me in the future to find this hidden passage in and out of Asgard. You also revealed that you were living your life in hiding, travelling from world to world, in fact, I recall you mentioning Midgard as one of those worlds you had previously stayed on. You spent the whole night in the gardens with me, avoiding the crowds, simply talking… As the festivities began to die down in the early hours of morning you made your excuses and left with the promise of returning one day." He defiantly finished his story there, his eyes desperately searching Artemisia’s face for some sign of emotion. This mystery woman he had meet so long ago simply knew nothing of that night; a simple pleasure though it may have been to merely talk to a stranger… But to him it was a treasured memory of the night he felt truly at home; in her eyes. The eyes of a long lost friend. Those eyes that now had no recollection of the facts, but had remembered the connection. And in those eyes he stared, just then, still feeling as at home in them as he had before. His first friend, his only friend. He had long since thought her dead. Her promise to return faded into a memory; yet in his mind he could not bare to consider her purposely not returning. Thus, he had shaped the memory, devising that her promise was not a promise at all, merely a wishful thought she had expressed. For he could not bare having been abandoned by those soul piercing brown eyes.

[loki-imagine]

Understanding Her... (Chapter 6)

NOTES/WARNINGS: I checked the grammar and spelling myself so it may still have mistakes in there. Trigger warnings: talking about suicide/suicidal thoughts. Feedback is more than welcome!

(By the way, I have something pretty big planned for the next few chapters… Be expecting the poignant twist in the tale, as you can see in this one things are started to take shape)

Written by: ava-v-f-nineteen

Previously (end of Chapter 5)

Artemisia bowed her head feigning interest in her meal once more. “And so we keep going and we prove to the world that we are worthy, strong, beautiful, loved, kind, caring, intelligent, loyal, just, considerate, respectful...” She trailed off as she realised her pitch of voice had increased while she had began to ramble. Recomposing herself, she resumed in a more delicate and serious tone, “That we have something to offer the world. We are worthy of life and no one should ever be able to stop us living it the way we were born to live it.” Loki slowly raised his gaze simultaneously with Artemisia’s gaze, their eyes meeting at the same time… He smiled. A genuinely smile, one of identification and compassion as her firm words gave him the hope that he did not even realise he needed. For that was what she was, hope.

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They continued to end their meal in silence, though Artemisia’s thoughts were fair from silent. She wanted so desperately to ask how he had come to find her? How did he know she would even go anywhere with him? He seemed to be only interested in asking her questions about her beliefs; he wanted to test me? Is there something more to all this? There has to be a purpose; I didn’t choose to live a new life only for it to be another life of falsely perceived goals and purpose.

Unsure of his motifs, Artemisia started to consider the prospect of having basically jumped into the back of some man’s work van after her promised her sweets. He may as well be the Child Catcher… Maybe worse if he was responsible for the attack on New York. Although Artemisia’s thoughts were of logical and wonted doubt, her heart was not; we guts were telling her something else entirely, something she felt so sure and safe when she focused on it, a feeling she’d never experienced before. Is this what it feels like to unconditionally and irrevocably trust someone? I trust this man, and yet I know nothing about him.

"My lady?" Her revolutions were interrupted by the man to her left trying to reach for her now empty plate and replace it with another smaller platter.

"Sorry" she mumbles as she quickly pulled her arms off from where they rested on the table in contemplation.

The smaller convex dome laid before her reflected her face crisply, though still alike mirror, a slightly distorted face stared back at her. Whether that was her current quizzical and introspective expression or the convex natural of the silver plate cover that distorted her reflection, Artemisia could not tell. Nor did she have time to contemplate any further before the second silver dome was removed in a executive fashion to reveal dessert; a small shallow bowl of fruits, a majority of which Artemisia was unfamiliar with, finished with a delicate pouring of cream.

"You’re furrowing your brow… Does the sweet not appeal to you? Or are you musing over my words? Are your eyes opening to my cold hearted villainess ways?" He smirked, giving his very words a sinister grin as they flowed transversely across the table to Artemisia’s exposed ears. They fell hard and sharp on Artemisia, the well conceived self-hatred that resided within each of his word so discretely, filled her with rancorous resent. Frustrated with his stubbornness she spoke, her voice crescendoing to a stern and forceful apex…

"Do you really think I didn’t see into your eyes and saw behind the cold exterior and facade. Do you really think I would be here right now if I didn’t see something in you worth trusting? Do not try to convince me you are an object to be scorned. Only ever convince me that you and this place are worth living for, or else I revert back to the way my life was… Which was not worth living, for I could give nothing, nor gain anything from it."

Artemisia rarely raised her voice in frustration, she had always been one to sit back and take it. Let the world shout at her and make up it’s own mind, as experience told her one too many times that no one ever really, truly listened to the meaning of her words. But then in that moment she realised assertive and impudent words would be better understood by someone who so willingly walked over people with small voices. She knew, based on his theatrical displays and demands in New York, that he liked to do thugs to the extreme, that he liked the drama and the attention. He commanded the stage and strutted on his walk through life; any fault, any stumble or set back would be deflected from himself. He was unable to admit fault, unable to see his own fault; he was a man who had been the victim of fault all too many times, and all too hard.

Artemisia knew that raising her voice beyond her usual low crisp husk, would fall on open and intrigued ears, and only prove to the shell of a man before her that she too was forceful and though her ego may seem small she too could play at his game.

And that she did. At a loss for words, the empty shell of a king sat. He simply sat and observed the increasingly intriguing creature adjacent to him. This wonderful creature he knew so much and yet so little about. This wonderful creature who knew him, yet did not know him. This creature who’s heart was the same as he had recalled, yet who’s eyes were darker and more hollow than he had anticipated.

Extending into the very depths of his mind, reaching for the most basic of functions, he leant forward and spoke, “You are not as you should be are you? You really are so much more.”