#ckoehlrbm

[imagine-loki]

Imagine Loki being the teaching party to a handful of enhanced children and he's doing fine until the science versus magic argument comes to play. He finally calls on Frigga to help him because he's overwhelmed?

[fuckyeahgoodomens]

There was an explanation posted about how Zira was acting quite the Victorian maiden when Crowley showed up in 1793 Paris with his body language. Do you happen to have it?

I don’t have it, does anyone? :)

[imagine-loki]

"You Can't Have Her!"

Imagine Loki's reaction to those words, yelled at him by Tony or Cap (who is perfectly aware of your massive/awkward/slightly fangirl crush on Loki) while discussing the 'rules' for Loki staying at the Avengers Compound/Stark Tower.

What would a good of mischief do?

And how would he react when he later hears the line, "Yeah, they circled around each other until I practically gift-wrapped him for her/her for him!"?

[imagine-loki]

Eating Crow

Title: Eating Crow

Rating: M

Author: ckoehlrbm

Prompt: Imagine Loki faking his death in order to go undercover.

Chapter: 1/? (Four intended chapters, but we all know what they say about intentions.)

Note: Please be kind. This is my first multi-chapter Loki fic. I have submitted several imagines and some one-shots, but fingers crossed our Emerald King will behave just slightly for me while writing this!

Chapter One: Breaking

Air wasn’t supposed to taste like it burned, but this did. It prickled at the skin as she reached out desperately, trying to stop the inevitable.

She had once watched a quarter balance on its side at the entrance to a sewer. Spinning and tantalizing, she knew instinctively she had no hope of catching the quarter, even at her small size. She was seven and closer to the ground than the grown man who had dropped the coin, but as it wobbled ever so carefully, she knew it would fall.

Even as she reached out to Loki now, she knew he would fall. She wasn’t tall enough to stretch to reach him, even as she screamed for him to hold on. Give her one more moment. She could almost brush her fingers against his. Don’t fall. Please don’t fall. She was almost there….

The snap of her spine widened her eyes as she heard it. She tried still to reach but she could no longer see Loki’s fingers….

  Alys woke with a scream of “NO! LOKI!” and tried to bolt upright, forgetting for a moment that she no longer had that ability. It was lost to her as much as her legs were lost to her. She felt cold enter her heart again and the desire to weep was present, but the soul-deep need to cry was absent. It had been for a long while now. She had learned a valuable lesson.

You could love someone so hard that their absence rendered your soul into a pile of shreds and every breath hurt…. But you could live with that hurt.

That fateful day, a sword of one of the ancient dead had severed her spine, narrowly missing her esophagus and stomach. That hadn’t hurt so much as knowing that she had failed Loki, failed to be there the one time he truly needed her. As Hela’s troops had overrun the Bifrost, slaughtering Asgardians, she had been focused on saving him and she had failed…

And countless souls had perished for her efforts. Not that anyone was as crass as to openly blame her for the deaths that she had not prevented.

Thor had been her companion during her recovery, lifting her to and from bed as needed. The blond giant of a male had cradled her in those too-large, seemingly too-clumsy hands as if she were a precious bird and murmured about how he would always be around to help the sister of his heart. That surely Valhalla awaited her and the Valkyries would shake before her might.

Tony had designed her wheelchair thanks to a partnership between Stark Industries and an Israeli tech firm that permitted her to fight on her feet if she needed to. Her house was now a smart house, powered by the same tech that fuelled the Stark Industries building in Manhattan, and completely disabled friendly. Tony had sent in crews of workmen to make sure that she had every available comfort once she was discharged from the hospital.

Rhodey had been a guardian angel and punched the guy who called her a ‘rapeable freak’. Which was partially Rhodey’s fault since he had set up the date, but Alys didn’t blame him for other people’s idiocy. An ableist was going to be an ableist, an asshole would be an asshole.

Pepper… Pepper Potts was God’s own personal assistant. She managed everything, found live-in help, made sure maintenance was done, that Alys’ stipend from being ‘Avenger support staff’ wasn’t terminated when she was disabled, coordinated Alys’ medical care, arranged for interviews with world-class surgeons on the incredibly generous Stark Employee Health Plan, found a therapist for her to speak with when grief and hopelessness had spiraled Alys into a suicide attempt…. Pepper Potts deserved sainthood for the way she simply handled everything and then hugged you so tight that you almost couldn’t breathe for the feeling of being home.

Wanda had taken time to make sure she ate. There were soups, native Sokovian foods, some things that Vision had helped the young woman make. They were still frequent guests and most welcome. Wanda never made her feel helpless and Vision was careful to state that she was still Alys, even if she couldn’t walk. She didn’t need legs to use her brain and be herself.

Natasha gave her physical therapy to make sure her legs didn’t fully atrophy. Alys had not seen the point and had verbally expressed a wish to kick the Russian assassin numerous occasions when she felt pain from her legs being moved around. Natasha had been quick to tell her that even feeling pain was a good sign that perhaps there could be some recovery of movement. They had cried together the first time she moved her big toes, celebrating with ice cream and a rousing rendition of ‘Wait For It’ from the Hamilton musical. Of course, they had done that DURING the show, which the cast had not exactly appreciated until Tony had cleared up the misunderstanding. After that, Alys had a standing invite to join the show during matinees.

Steve had been a sweetheart the entire time, but never more so than the first time she had tried to get out of the tub by herself and ended up falling face first in the bathroom. She had screamed her frustration, weeping helplessly because she could not get into her wheelchair when it was RIGHT THERE! She should have been strong enough to do this SIMPLE task, but she wasn’t. Her legs were laying behind her like limp noodles.

The super soldier had entered the bathroom and blushed at her nudity before handing her a robe and helping her get situated on the edge of the tub. Then, with as much care as Thor, he lifted her, bypassed the wheelchair, and took her straight to her bedroom, sitting her at her vanity. “You know, there was a girl with polio in the apartment next to my mother’s. I would watch her and do her hair at times. I learned that women never feel quite right unless their hair is on point.” That said, he snagged her brush and began to comb out her brunette locks until they shone before braiding them deftly and tying it off with a green ribbon.

She smiled at the fond memories of her team putting the pieces of her back together. They had done what had seemed impossible at one point. She originally had not wanted to live in a world where Loki wasn’t there. They had persevered and won her over, though, and now she could not imagine anything else.

Alys rose for the day and with the help of her live-in aid, Brigid, bathed, dressed, and cooked her morning meal. There was a serenity in knowing that she wasn’t alone, that if she fell out of her chair there was someone there…. That her team was a shout away, that FRIDAY was watching out for her.

There was a knock on the door and Alys frowned. She wasn’t expecting anyone…. She looked at Brigid who shrugged and went back to tending the start of the evening pot roast. Alys eyed it to make sure it was large enough for everyone they were expecting before gesturing silently to Brigid to get the other one out as well. If Banner made an appearance, they would need more food.

When the brunette opened the door, she couldn’t help but stare. This could not be happening. Not again. Not when she had worked so hard to get beyond this…

Green eyes stared at her in adoration, black hair was smoothed back and flowing loose down his back. He was bittersweet trouble like dark chocolate ice cream- delicious temptation.

Alys felt herself tremble as she gazed up at him, felt the burn of tears even as she shook her head. “No. Not this. Not this dream. Please. Sweet merciful gods, not this dream….”

“My queen, my love, what dream?”

Her breath came faster and she closed her eyes, trying to regain control. She had to remember what Dr. Finklestein said. The dreams were because of the trauma. The trauma was because she had lost him so quickly. The loss still affected her, even five years later. She needed to breathe and find her center so she could exit the dream.

“You died, Loki. That day on the Bifrost. You died, my love. I’m so sorry. I know I was supposed to try to save you, but I couldn’t. This is a dream and Dr. Finklestein says that they should not still be occurring. I need this to stop, Loki. Oh, my love... “ She was rambling, even in her own head. There was so much to tell Loki, to let him know, to affirm her love still burned…

The tears were flowing down her cheek and she could taste the salt of them. They were bitter, but she could not stop them. Her arms came around her body even as her chair moved back, away from the door. She was allowing him in, even as she screamed for Brigid.

The nurse was a tall red-head, frizzy haired, friendly, bright, and personable. “Miss Crow? Are you well?”

“Brigid, this is a dream. It has to be. It’s a dream. Wake me. I can’t wake up. Please. It’s not real. He’s not here. I know he’s not here.”

“Miss Crow, you’re hyperventilating. It does look like we have a guest. Breathe for me. Slow. An eight count, miss. In, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight…. Hold, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight… Out, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight… Again, Miss Crow.” Thus being distracted by the order to simply breathe, she listened to Brigid turn to their guest.

“And who are you to so upset Miss Crow? Do you know who she is? This is Alys Crow, hero of Asgard, personal friend to the Avengers! She has Tony Stark and King Thor on speed dial. Do we need to call them?”

Loki’s voice was darkly amused, sweet sinful velvet. “You could call my brother or the Man of Iron, but neither of them could keep me away from my queen. In fact, do call the Man of Iron. Call my brother. Both of them know I am here.”

Alys’ brain was racing. This was looking more and more like a reality. A reality where Loki lived. Where Loki publicly called her queen rather than whispering it heatedly in her ear as he commanded her body like a king. Thor and Tony both knew he was here?

How had this happened?

The answer came to her so quick that she could not bottle up the rage that flooded her body. She reached out, grabbed a Waterford vase and threw it at Loki as hard as she could. “You lying BASTARD!” she screamed out as crystals shattered around Loki. “You lied to me! TO ME?! You DARED! LIE! TO! ME!”

He was staring at her like he had never seen her before. More specifically, he was staring at her chair. The look on his face was horror and Alys felt her heart shatter even further.

https://docs.google.com/document/d/1VDUlDgOqCRt5AB-mOeBSwl-NyuAWDuFzFPc7zsn3Slk/edit?usp=drivesdk

[imagine-loki]

Exhausted

TITLE: Exhausted CHAPTER NO./ONE SHOT: One-Shot AUTHOR: ckoehlrbm ORIGINAL IMAGINE: You are too exhausted to take a shower and just want to lay in bed, but Loki won’t allow someone dirty in clean sheets. RATING: General NOTES/WARNINGS: None

Things had changed since the Asgardians had settled on Midgard. Where in the first year of residency, Anaya had been on-duty for forty-eight hours and then on-call for twenty-four, but allowed to leave the hospital…. By the last year of her emergency medical residency, she was on-duty for seventy-two or more hours, kept awake and alert by the provisions from an Asgardian Healer that was stationed with her. Every major city had at least one Asgardian Healer on staff at their trauma center. New York had seven.

Anaya stumbled into her apartment, yawning as the last surge of energy and clarity from the Kaf-Pow she had been injected with began to fade. She couldn't remember the name for the substance now, but all of the residents called it Kaf-Pow, as you could be half asleep and one shot would have you ready to run marathons.

There was her bed. Freshly made with black cotton sheets that she knew would be softer than a baby's breath. She shrugged off her lab coat and let it hit the floor with an audible, if slightly wet, thunk as she began sneaking towards the bed. She ignored the yellow stain (was it mustard or fetal fluid from a Vanir? She couldn't remember.) on her scrubs. Her knee touched the bed and she began to fall forward-

And an arm wrapped around her waist, pulling her back and away from the bed. "Darling, a shower first."

She whined in thwarted, exhausted fury. Words were beyond her now. She had been so close to being in the literal heaven of her bed and goddamn Loki's OCD was kicking in with a side diagnosis of germaphobia.

"What was that, darling? Did you ask for me to wash you?"

The whine was replaced by a curious groan. Would he? Would it be cruel when she was too exhausted from work to reward him with sex? Would it be rude if they started and she fell asleep in the middle of? Not wanting to insult the god himself, but she really didn't see how she could stay awake for the time required to properly worship him.

She didn't notice as he began magicking her clothes away with a disgusted sniff at the scrubs and the coat. No doubt, there would be new ones awaiting her before her next shift. Her feet stumbled and suddenly she was floating towards the bathroom where her tub was now easily the size of a large Jacuzzi.

Anaya groaned as she was lowered into the citrus-scented water, bath oil making her skin glisten. It should be a sin for something to feel this good. Maybe this was what the womb felt like to a baby- a warm, comfortable space where aches disappeared. There was a murmur of sound as Loki slipped behind her and drew her back so she lay against him.

Her head rolled back and she looked up at him. He groaned when he saw her eyes and she felt him prod the small of her back. "Darling, you cannot look at me like that when you are like this. It makes me want to forget I am a Prince. A consummate gentleman beyond reproach."

She snorted and closed her eyes as a soapy washcloth began smoothing over her skin, lightly scrubbing at a mysterious spot that turned out to be a bruise. His lips pressed to her shoulder, moving in silent words and she knew there would be no bruise when she left the bath.

"I know, darling. I am possessive. I do not like marks on you but the ones I make. Of which there are precious few right now. We will have to make up for your absence, my love. My sweet Anaya."

The cloth dipped down, cleansing her skin in soothing circles that smelt of fresh oranges and zesty lemons. Time became meaningless to her as her body took comfort from her lover taking care of her. He spoke in low tones of what he had seen on the news and how he had realized much of it had been directed to MedGen when she ignored his texts and calls. How he was sorry she had caught such a rough time that she was nearly two days late from all of the extra work and surgeries. How he admired her for the skills her tiny Midgardian hands held in repairing lives and bodies.

She was more asleep than awake when he slipped from behind her and magicked her out of the tub, wrapping a large towel around her. His arms came around her body and she started to protest him carrying her weight when she was not exactly lithe. Her body was as generous as her heart. He shushed her and she fell silent as he knelt on the bed, placing her away from the door and closing the blinds. The sheet came up and covered her as she reached blindly for him with a sigh.

"I am here, my Queen. Rest and know you are protected. None will disturb you tonight, not even I."

[imagine-loki]

Eating Crow

TITLE:  Eating Crow CHAPTER NO./ONE SHOT: Chapter 2 AUTHOR:  ckoehlrbm ORIGINAL IMAGINE:  Imagine Loki faking his death in order to go undercover. RATING:Teen NOTES/WARNINGS:  The Waterford Vase is a pattern called ‘America The Beautiful New York 9.3 inch bowl’, a $1540 beautiful tribute to the city. In my story, Tony Stark gives them away to survivors of the Battle of New York and associated SHIELD/Avengers staffers.

Also, yes, this chapter is late. Alys didn’t want to behave. >.<

  Loki stared at Alys as the vase she had thrown shattered before him with the wave of a hand. A second wave began to reassemble the vase, the glass shaping into the engraved sculpture with the New York skyline that said ‘To Alys Crow, for six years of service and sacrifice. Presented this day, 09 Sept 2020, by Anthony Stark, CEO, Stark Industries, IRONMAN.’

He magicked to vase to where it had been placed before, wondering why his beloved Alys was in that chair. Surely there was a reason why she wasn’t standing to greet him?

He had not expected her to greet him with the same open affection they had indulged in before the Battle of Asgard, but to have her screaming at him was not what he had expected at all. Tears, yes. Anger, yes. This hyperventilating, confused, sorrowful woman who did not stand before him, yelling in his face, defying him….? This was unknown to him and he didn’t understand how to proceed.

He moved to kneel beside her and she used her hands to grip the wheels of the chair and roll back. “My queen, what has happened?”

“I watched you die. I took a fucking sword to the spine for you, trying to save you! Trying to save a liar!” she growled. “I sacrificed Asgardians to save you. I sacrificed MYSELF to save you!”

Her rage, her hurt was palpable and his hand came to rest on her knee. “Alys, I did what Mother thought necessary. I was and am ever her loyal son.”

She froze, staring at his hand wistfully. He had missed something that came to him the moment she looked back up at him with tears in her eyes.

‘I took a fucking sword to the spine for you….’

He remembered the Man of Iron’s friend and the consequences of spinal injuries on Midgard. What could be repaired on Asgard with time in the Houses of Healing could be and often was life-changing and detrimental to Midgardians. Which meant…

Which meant…

Which meant that she was now trapped in this contraption of wheels and parts because there were no more Houses of Healing, there was no more Asgard….

And she was trapped because he had not told her the plan. Every Avenger had known because of his brother’s big mouth, but they had decided, apparently, to keep this knowledge from Alys. He would suppose that it was for realism’s sake.

That meant she had wept for him, had grieved him- strenuously if the strength of her reaction was any gauge to judge by-, she still loved him. Loved him deeply if her reaction was any guess.

Yet, who was this seemingly broken woman sitting in front of him? Who could she be? Was there any hope for them in this? Could her anger be placated? Would she give him a chance to explain?

His hand squeezed her thigh and she didn’t react other than to watch him. The lack of reaction told him that she couldn’t feel his touch. “Alys….”

“Don’t you fucking dare pity me!” she snarled. There was his girl. That fierce pride, the raising of her hackles, her need to protect herself. “Even for a lie, don’t you dare pity me! It was my choice to try and save you, no matter how stupid of a decision that was.”

“Tell me what happened.”

She explained it succinctly, albeit irritably. She wasn’t looking for sympathy. Her synopsis of the events was clear and brief, despite her rage at him.

There was a moment where his love for her, the thing that had kept him going at the lowest points of Thanos’ control of him, the one thing that Thanos had been unable to rip away from him, shone brighter than ever before. It was when she described how she still cried up until a few months ago, weeping for him because it still hurt.

And he still loved her. He knew it as well as he knew that his soul and mind still belonged to him. Once her story was over, her rage seemingly burned out, he began to speak.

“Mother knew that Thanos was coming, that Hela was coming. Mother was raised by witches and knew things that no man or woman could know otherwise. She left a notebook for myself and another for Thor…”

He explained the plot, why he had gone undercover, the consequences had he not taken the course of actions Frigga had laid out. The Queen of Asgard had well-known the obstinance of her younger son, his envy of being the spare heir, the rage he would feel upon discovering that he was not Odinson but Laufeyson. She had known she would die and had sought to do as mothers should, to help her children.

It had been her words that had reunited him and Thor, that had convinced him to find his worth, to sacrifice for Midgard and Asgard.

Alys listened, her eyes closed and her body rocking slightly in the same type of self-comforting that a child would. He took his time, moving from stroking her thigh to holding her hand.

“My love, you have been so strong. I never knew that my idiot brother and his friends told you nothing. I would not have agreed if I knew for a moment it would cause you pain,” he whispered, his hand coming to cup her cheek.

Hope blossomed in his heart when a sigh was torn from her chest, ripped from her soul, and her eyes closed, leaning into his hand as if there was no where else she would rather be. Perhaps that was true.

The hope was ripped away when she suddenly seemed to come to herself and pulled away. “You did the right thing, Loki, and I am so proud of you, but… I… I cannot go back to where we were. There is no way back. I have… I have moved on. I’m sorry…. You need to leave.”

He stood, frowning down at Alys. “My lo-”

“No. You don’t get to call me that. You didn’t mean to hurt me? Fine. You were obeying and honoring Queen Frigga? Fantastic. Loki, I lost the ability to walk trying to save you from something you didn’t need saving from. Something you planned. You faking your death... “ She took several deep breaths, rage and pain shining in her eyes. “You will NEVER know how much… How hard… How…”

Brigid re-entered the room and pulled a numb, aching Loki to the door. “Miss Crow will call you when she wishes to see you again.” The nurse’s tone made Loki think that the redhead did not believe that call would be coming anytime soon.

[imagine-loki]

End Game Spoilers

Imagine, if you will, Loki meeting Morgan Stark. He is intrigued by her obvious intelligence, her guileless nature, her open acceptance of him…. Until he finds out that it’s because Tony told her that he (Tony) was smarter than Loki. So Loki challenges the child to chess (or Uno or Monopoly) and deliberately loses in the end, because who is he to ruin a child’s image if her father?

[imagine-loki]

Eating Crow: Chapter Three

Eating Crow: Chapter Three

Chapter No.: Chapter Three

Author: ckoehlrbm

Notes: I apologize for the delay. This time, Loki was showing his ass and I liked it. ;)

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

He was there again. Standing on the other side of the street, blocking part of the sidewalk as he watched her house. He appeared to be helping the Taylor child- Robin Taylor, seven, lived four houses down, liked to play football and do karate, wanted to be Sailor Moon when she grew up- with her hot cider stand while the elderly grandfather did hay rides for the neighborhood during the Fall Festival.

Alys watched him watch her.

He looked…. He looked so good with a child. Realistically, she knew that Robin Taylor was a short, stocky, but limber blonde with eyes as blue as the Caribbean Sea, but Alys only saw a tall, lithe child, pale of skin with a faint hint of blue to the pigmentation, hair dark and sleek, her own eyes staring up at Loki from the face of their child….

And the vision stopped there. She had no idea if she could even have children. Did freaks in wheelchairs have kids if they couldn’t use their legs? She didn’t know and part of her didn’t care.

This obsessive love she had for a man she had thought dead was unhealthy. She had already been to Dr. Finklestein twice this week, trying to make the pain in her chest stop. He had thought her finally broken until Brigid confirmed that she, too, had seen Loki. Had spoken to Loki….

Her phone rang and Daddy Warbucks flashed on the screen to the tune of ‘Shoot To Thrill’, the Halestorm remake. She cast her eyes down, considering answering Tony’s call…. She had already missed 47 calls from him this week…. She reached for her mobile and pressed the volume button to silence it. She wasn’t ready to talk to them.

The ringtones continued. ‘Rumors’ for Natasha, ‘Cupid Carries a Gun’ for Clint, ‘To Hell and Back’ for Bucky, ‘Hail To The King’ for Thor, ‘Soldier’ for Steve, ‘Castle’ for Wanda, ‘Close My Eyes Forever’ for Vision… They broke her though, when Peter’s ringtone ‘Behind Those Eyes’ rang out for the first time in a week.

“Hey, Miss Alys,” he stated when she picked up. There was a small gasp of surprise. 

“Peter, sweetheart, am I on speaker?”

“Well…. yes, Miss Alys.”

“Good. I want you to hand the phone to Steve and I want you to go out of the room. Actually, leave the floor. Steve will make sure you get your phone back, okay?”

There was the sound of shuffling, of Peter in the background going, “I’m not disobeying her. You guys dun goofed. I had no part in this. Sorry, Da- I mean, Mr Stark.” as he walked away. A door shut and she heard FRIDAY say, “Yes, Mr. Parker. Going down.”

“Alys?” came Tony’s worried baritone.

“Who’s idea was it, Tony? To not tell me that Loki was alive?”

There was a guilty cough and she heard the distinct sound of Thor’s guilty shuffle of his feet.

“Why, Thor?”

“You would distract him. You loved him as much as he loved you.”

“It was a group decision, Alys. Not just Thor’s, though he did cast the deciding vote.” Steve, trying to rationalize. “Also, we were not completely sure that Loki was on our side of the argument.”

“Bullshit. He was mine, Steve. He would never endanger me! I’m going to say this once. Fuck you, Steve. Fuck your self-righteous bullshit, fuck your ‘Ohmigawd, I lost Peggy, so now I can never be happy and no one else deserves to be happy, either!’ pity party, fuck your blindness, fuck your Captain America bullshit! You’re a miserable old man out of time and idealizing a past you can never return to. You aren’t a hero, Steven Grant Rogers. You’re a cowardly asshole. You had no right to make that decision for me, you bogus fucking blond SHIT!” When the dam broke, everything came flooding out of Alys, a healing, painful outpouring of everything she had felt the last week. “As for you, Thor, at least you have pure stupidity to blame. I would never have endangered Loki’s mission. I would have played the part required of me and waited for him to come home. I want you to know that I blame my inability to walk on a sword and on you, King of Asgard.”

There was the sound of something being thrown and a struggle. Steve was angry, muttering about when he got his hands on her.

“I would not advise harming my Queen, Captain. They would never find all of the atoms of your body,” came the smooth tones of Loki from the doorway.

x-x-x-x-x

He could hear her yelling at the righteous captain from across the street and politely excused himself from the enchanting child he had spent days helping. She waved sweetly. “Bye, Mr. Laffy-son!” she chirped.

It was adorable. Anyone else calling him a ‘Laffy-son’ would get hit, but the way she mispronounced ‘Laufeyson’ was too cute for him to take offense. Especially when uttered by a precious child who wanted to grow up to be a Moon Princess.

He listened to his Queen give Captain America a proper telling off, ripping into the psychological wounds of the blond with ease and precision. Calling his brother stupid was a bonus.

The threat from the Captain made Loki’s blood turn cold and he felt his skin begin the slow slide from Asgardian to Jotun, starting with the imprints on his skin beginning to rise. His statement that perhaps the Captain’s threat had been issued in haste was met with a gasp, Alys’ eyes turning up to him.

Her lips parted and her eyes went soft. “Mine own….” she breathed, longing in her quieted voice.