#dale wylmont

[thebakerstboyskeeper]

Day 1 - "I Need You" (Loki x Dale)

After the world falls apart and comes back together, there are wounds that Dale can no longer ignore.

Post-Endgame AU (yes everyone is alive, Marvel is dumb), Loki x OFC

TW: Bad mental health

The world is at once loud and silent. Half the population has returned, but it’s a far cry from feeling truly joyous. She can’t help but wonder if maybe they caused more harm meddling with time as they did.

Still, the guilt settles in her gut as she looks out at the woods around her. Was it cowardly to flee from civilization in the aftermath? Maybe. But she’s not the only one. Tony returned to his cabin with Pepper and Morgan, his arm destroyed beyond saving. Natasha disappeared somewhere in Russia, sending her a message that she had family to check on. Clint is on some quiet road trip, trying to clear his head so he can return to his sister and nieces and nephews. She’s only heard of sightings of Steve around the globe to know he’s alive. And the occasional call from Sam, who he sometimes checks in with.

“Thanks, Sam. I’m sorry–”

“Don’t you apologize to me. You all kept going while we were gone. Well, mostly. You deserve a break.”

“Thank you.”

Bruce and Thor went back to New Asgard to help expand and settle it for the returned Asgardians. That seems to be going well, from what she’s heard. She’d offered to go with, unwilling to leave Loki’s side, but he’d been reluctant.

So here they are, in a cottage Pepper found for them, hiding. Breathing. Existing. She still wakes in the morning and stares at him for far too long before brushing her fingers across his cheek to ensure he’s real.

The mornings she wakes without him still send her into a panic. Those first two weeks, she hurtled through the rooms, heart pounding, thoughts cracking, as she searched for him. At least now she can attempt to breathe steady and remind herself he’s just in the kitchen or out on the porch as she creeps from the bed.

They don’t speak much. And when they do, it’s basically small talk. Neither of them have had much of a chance to work through . . . everything. For years. She knows they’re both sitting alone with their thoughts when they shouldn’t be.

She’s tired. No, she’s exhausted. Pushing forward when there’s nothing left of herself. Spinning her wheels and driving her mind in circles. There are days she wants to walk into this forest and never come back.

But Loki would find her.

He finds her now, sitting on the porch in the dying light. The wood creaks as he settles next to her. The minute space he’s left between them feels like a chasm.

“Loki,” she breathes, everything in her soul crashing to a stop. “I need you.”

They’re both staring straight ahead, but she doesn’t miss the way he shifts.

“I’m right here.”

“Are you? Because I’m not sure I even am.”

He’s silent.

A bird squawks somewhere off to her right, its mate answering. Darkness encroaches and the warm lights inside begin to spill into the wilderness. She sighs and begins to stand, but Loki’s hand is suddenly on her knee.

“I am here, but I do not know how to even begin to sort what has happened and how to . . .” He trails off.

“Keep going.”

He turns to look at her.

“When you were . . . gone . . . when everyone was gone, I didn’t know what to do. All I could do was keep putting one foot in front of the other, helping Nat, hoping, hoping, something would present itself. Hoping I had missed something that would bring you back. That would help. And there was always nothing. Heavens, Loki, I don’t think I would’ve survived the disappointment if the time travel hadn’t worked. And now, we reversed what was done, but . . . now I don’t know how to move forward. I don’t know if what we did was right. I don’t know if I have anything left. I don’t know if I can keep going!”

His arms are around her, pulling her into his lap. He tucks her head under his chin, hand tangled in the choppy locks of her hair. She tries to stop her sniffling, but every time he tightens his grip, it sends a fresh wave of anguish through her.

“I need you here with me, Loki. Please. I need to know I’m not alone in this. That we can do this.”

“Shh, Dale. I am here. I will not leave you. Nothing will keep us apart, I swear it. I need you too.”

She buries her face into his neck. “We can do this, can’t we?”

He pushes her back just enough to catch her gaze. She blinks away her tears as he cradles her head, thumbs brushing the tracks from her cheeks.

“You are here. I am here. Together, we will learn to do more than survive,” he says, tone low and earnest.

“And be happy?”

“And be the most miserably happy beings in all the realms.”

Her laugh is watery as she nods. His responding kiss is soft, gentle, comforting. All the things she’s missed for the last five years.

“Together.”

[thebakerstboyskeeper]

Thinkin’ about these two today...

a little thing for my dear @thebakerstboyskeeper! I had to go waaay out of my characters comfort zone with this ahah, but I’m always down for some good action poses!

[thebakerstboyskeeper]

24 for Loki x Dale please! I love marvel 💖

So...I have several ideas as to how the whole Thanos thing plays out with Loki and Dale, but I’ve never settled on one. Mostly because I ignore the BS that is Infinity War and Endgame. But this is imagining they happened. With changes. Because they’re still BS.

24. Deep kisses where they have their hands tangled in each other’s hair to pull them closer - Dale x Loki

She drops her hands, her breath and heart finally starting to quiet as the battlefield falls still. The ashes drifting on the air are hauntingly familiar, but they lift her spirits instead of shattering her heart.

It’s over.

Every inch of her is coated in dirt, her mouth dry and tasting of blood. Aches make her trek back toward her friends slow. The faces of those returned are sharp yet blurred as her grief stirs, dampening her relief and joy from moments ago, reminding her who is still gone. She should be happy they’re all here, but right now, they’re a reminder. One she doesn’t want.

Natasha’s entire body sags, her arms surrounding Dale the moment they see each other. Dale wants to sob into her chest, but she pulls away and smiles instead. Steve is next, hand cupping the back of her neck as he tugs her close, laughing quietly as their foreheads meet. His murmur of, “We did it,” sits heavy between them as they part. He makes a beeline for Bucky and Sam as they approach, leaving her attention to wander to where Tony and Pepper are holding each other a few paces away.

Her head falls back, her eyes focusing instead on the sky and the worlds beyond. She blinks away tears.

You should be here.

A shout of her name startles her, drawing her into a ready stance, eyes scanning the area. It’s Thor’s voice she finally recognizes as he screams again.

She races toward his hulking silhouette, skidding to a stop at his back. Korg grins at her and waves. The question stalls on her tongue as Thor turns and steps aside, smile wide enough to light the sun. Silence rings in her ears as her heart stops.

“Dale.”

Loki. Loki in his battle regalia. Loki similarly coated in blood and dirt and exhaustion. Loki speaking her name.

Her body crashes into his, warm and solid. Real. She shoves his stupid horns aside, tangling her fingers in his hair as they clang to the ground, wrapping her legs around his hips. His hands are in her shortened locks, a broken sound leaving him as he kisses her after years.

The spike of pain as he tugs on her hair finally crushes her composure. She sobs into his mouth, clawing and grabbing and hugging him to herself until there is nothing between them.

“How?” she breathes between kisses. “How? How?”

He shushes her, his grip turning demanding. Under all the stains of the battle for their universe, he tastes the same. He tastes of home.

She digs her nails into his scalp, their lips clumsy in their desperation to relearn one another. His magic teases around the edges of her awareness. It dances around her own power, bringing more tears to her eyes as she welcomes it back. He’s here. He’s alive. It’s him.

When she forces herself away, needing to breathe or risk passing out in his arms, the sight of tear tracks through the dirt on his face causes her own to finally fall. She drags her hand through the raven strands toward his cheek, savoring the feel against her fingertips. He leans into her hand cradling him, eyes closing. The deep inhale tells her he’s doing the same savoring of her touch. He turns, kissing her palm.

“How?” she asks again. “I saw you . . .”

He tugs her toward him, the kiss harsh. A reminder that he’s here. He smooths the mess he’s made of her hair, breaking away and kissing her forehead.

“I couldn’t let that half rate sorcerer muck up my plan, gæludýr. Not when I needed to get back to you.”

She kisses him again, clinging to him. As they’re jostled by Thor embracing them with his old exuberance, she can’t stop the first laugh she’s felt in five years from echoing across the ruins.

[thebakerstboyskeeper]

Day 25 - Shows

Sometimes, she wishes she could just let Loki loose. Take his hand and disappear into the cosmos with him.

Especially moments like now.

She presses her fingers into her temples, chanting that she cannot stab foreign police in her head. She can’t.

“She was trespassing. And then attacked our officers.”

“Look, sir, you’ve probably got about ten seconds to cooperate before this gets out of hand.”

The familiar rush of power thrums along the air, otherworldly colored light illuminating the windows of the London precinct.

“Actually, you’re out of time,” she warns as Loki, with a newly arrived Thor, shove through the doors behind her.

When SHIELD called to inform her something was wrong with Jane Foster, she hadn’t expected this. Coulson was . . . gone. And Clint had never met the scientist. It left her as the only familiar face. Loki stepped them through a hidden pathway and there they were, on a different continent, attempting to convince the police to release her to their custody.

As Dale argued with the front desk, feeling Loki’s magic idly searching the area for any clues, she’d noticed him stiffen.

“We need Thor,” he’d said.

“What?”

“She’s found something she should not have been able to,” was all he said before he left to summon his brother.

Thor took a rather more forceful approach - which Dale appreciated - and strolled out with a shaken Dr. Foster under his arm. She and Loki had gathered with them on the runes etched into the ground. Loki wrapped his hands around Dale’s waist as the Bifrost took them to Asgard.

From there, it got worse. Odin didn’t want Jane there, Thor and Loki’s explanations as to why she needed to be falling on deaf ears.

Until Loki mentioned an Infinity Stone.

At that, Odin declared Jane was to stay, practically a prisoner, until it was decided what to do with her. Thor, Dale, and Loki were staying too. Dale because she would not abandon her charge and Loki . . . well, Loki was bound to Dale.

Wonderful.

So here she stands, glaring at Odin’s next decree that Loki will stay in the dungeons until they leave. Loki’s back snaps straight, his chin lifting. Dale takes a step forward.

“I don’t think so.”

“I still cannot believe you would threaten Odin!”

She shrugs, smiling as she takes the tiniest sip of the Asgardian liquor. The Warriors Three and Sif are letting her and Thor have a bit of privacy at the end of the table. She’s grateful for it.

“Loki has earned my trust a thousand times over. He’s here as my ally. If your father has a problem with it, especially after he put the arrangement in place, then we can sever all ties. Plus, killing me would start a war with SHIELD, and I’m sure other Earth governments would love the chance to jump in, so I think they’d stand a chance. And if you think I wouldn’t come back and haunt your dad’s army and make it hell on them, you’re wrong.”

Thor laughs. “I consider you a sister. I’d never let him harm you. Nor would Mother.”

She leans against his arm, watching the rowdy tavern around them. A not-so-quiet-anymore voice in the back of her head wishes Loki was here.

“He would have to go through me as well.”

Speak of the devil.

Loki sits with them and Thor offers him a genuine smile, not looking at all surprised that his brother has slipped the palace boundaries Odin attempted to enforce.

“Your family has been too good to me. Except your father. He’s just an asshole of the worst kind.”

Loki chuckles and Thor smiles. He’s still struggling to reconcile his father’s faults and his love for a parental figure, but at least he sees where Dale and Loki are coming from.

“And thank you for helping with Dr. Foster,” she adds.

“Jane is a good friend. She helped when I was at my lowest.”

Loki turns away.

“I wish I had seen you then. All mortal and weak,” she teases.

“Weak. I was still mighty.”

“I’m sure.”

She leans into Thor further, stretching a leg out under the table and hooking her foot around Loki’s thigh.

That time is past. You’re not alone anymore.

He tilts his head, watching her from the corner of his eye. Her smile grows wider, her own gaze tracing the lines of his face until he turns back to them.

“You were there, weren’t you?” Thor asks.

“Mmhm. But they kept me behind the scenes. I didn’t see you until after everything. Sure heard you kick everyone’s asses though.”

“I don’t remember you.”

“That’s probably better. I wasn’t as . . . friendly.”

“What do you mean?”

She hesitates, glancing at Loki before staring at the surface of the table. “I didn’t . . . always feel safe within SHIELD. The Avengers . . . they’re better.”

“Why did you stay?”

The question comes from Loki, but Thor looks just as invested in the answer. Her fingers tighten on her tankard.

“I owe Fury. A lot. And it was all I had.”

This time, Thor offers her a comforting hand, his fingers enveloping her own. Loki’s hand finds her ankle under the table where it is still propped on his leg, squeezing gently. They don’t pry, and for that, she adores them a bit more.

Thor’s friends eventually rejoin them. Liquor flows freely amongst the table, though Dale is careful not to drink too much lest her poor mortal body suffer. 

She becomes increasingly glad she’s mostly sober as another puzzle piece falls into place. Thor and his friends laugh, telling old stories and bragging of their exploits. Though Loki was with them often, his parts are downplayed, his magic seen as cheating or unacknowledged. Only once does Thor say that Loki saved them from a hopeless situation, though it seems he had to do so often.

Loki doesn't contribute a thing, only smiling with a sharp edge every now and then. Dale stares at him, wondering how he's managed to stay standing, to keep moving, when this is how he's lived for so long, how his family and friends have treated him, especially after repeatedly saving their skins and showing his worth. Sure, he played his fair share of pranks and threw chaos into the lives of those around him, but who doesn’t? She would've crumbled long ago, especially after finding out she was raised under false pretenses.

And she still doesn't know what happened after things fell apart so drastically, but before he appeared on Earth and turned her world upside down.

She stands abruptly, bringing the conversation to a halt.

“Sorry. I think I've had too much and need to sleep it off.”

Thor stands, but she holds up her hand.

“Stay and be with your friends. Loki? Do you mind?”

He tilts his head, watching her with narrowed eyes. Making her wait. Putting on a show for those who don’t know. She glares.

“Of course. I am at your service,” he says, standing.

The pompous one - Fandral - hoots at that. As they walk away, she turns his mead into a snake, sending it slithering across his wrist. The doors close behind them just as he yells in fright.

“You’re getting too good at that,” Loki remarks.

She wants to preen under his praise, but she can’t deny his aloofness has stung that deep piece of her that yearns for more reality and less farce. More . . . something.

He guides her back to the correct hall with her room at the end of it in silence. Until she can’t stand it anymore.

“At my service, huh?”

“Thor could have returned you if you wished.”

“Because you would’ve stayed and enjoyed your time with the others?”

He nods his head toward her.

“You managed to sneak out.”

“Child’s play. Odin Allfather is not as clever as he believes himself to be.”

“I see.”

They stop in front of her door.

“Loki--”

“There is no need.”

She bites back her comment. Instead, she takes his hand, stretching upward. It seems almost unconscious on his part that he bends slightly so she can kiss his cheek.

Movement in the corner of her eye draws her attention. She shifts, positioning herself for a full view without giving herself away.

It’s a raven.

She disregards the small spark of anger and turns back to Loki. His brow quirks at the smile that lights her face.

There’s a thud as his back hits the door to her room. Her hands tangle in his hair, her lips crashing into his. There’s nothing gentle as their kisses turn to bites and nips, his fingers digging into her hips as he lifts her legs to wrap around his waist. She glances up, finding the raven still there, head cocked to the side.

Yes, Allfather. I’m fucking him.

She grins. Loki’s mouth curls against hers, his hands sliding beneath her shirt.

“I know what you’re doing, gæludýr,” he breathes into the heated space between them.

She rolls her hips against his, chuckling as he growls, his own hips bucking. “He’s seen enough. Inside.”

Loki shoves the door open, carrying her through. She takes great pleasure in slamming it behind them.

[thebakerstboyskeeper]

GUYSSSSSS LOOK AT THIS!!! THANK YOU SO MUCH @sssamsondraws IT'S PERFECT!!

I love these two so much! This is from an upcoming thing for them and I can't wait! I still can't believe how gorgeous this is!!

commission for @thebakerstboyskeeper ! some loki and her lovely OC, Dale.

thanks for commissioning me again!

[thebakerstboyskeeper]

Day 23 - Unwanted

Warning: Dale is not in a good headspace here. This deals with depression, anxiety, PTSD, all that good stuff. Proceed with caution.

What’s that saying? We are the sum total of our experiences. Dale knows where she came from. Knows what embedded those barbs in her heart, the venom in her veins. She’s spent most of her life running from the person her past made her.

And yet, there are days that person catches her. She’s trapped in her own mind, seeing the world in a haze. Her entire being is afloat in an ocean, nothing but waves of loneliness pushing her under until she can’t breathe.

She stares at her teammates and sees strangers. Sees the morbid curiosity and sadistic enjoyment of SHIELD scientists reflected on Clint and Natasha’s faces. Sees the same horror at her existence in Bruce and Steve’s glances that her mother always wore. Sees the burden, the wish of her father that she be gone in Tony’s shake of the head. Sees her brother’s fear of what she could do in Thor. Sees Fury’s pity in Loki.

And somehow, that one is the worst.

Her nails claw at her temples, reality and past clashing in a fervor. Screams build in her throat, tears filming over her vision. But the worst is the yearning deep inside, the one that wishes for a kind look or a comforting hand.

She is alone. She should never be close to anyone. They don’t want her. She’s different. They don’t trust her.

Her body leans into the wall as her love for each of them chokes her. Too much, it’s too much. She should’ve never gotten close. Never.

“Dale. Dale! Look at me!”

She gasps, her eyes locking on Steve. His hands are out, giving her space. But it’s the uneasiness in his face that sends her to her knees, confirming everything her mind is howling.

Still, she forces the lie past her lips. “I’m okay. I’m okay. Sorry. I’m okay.”

He reaches for her, but jerks back when she flinches.

“I’m okay,” she repeats as she staggers to her feet and flees to her room, ignoring the weight of his stare on her shoulders.

Her attempts at withdrawing without the others noticing seem to be successful.

Part of her batters at her mental cage, begs her to rejoin the team. The other part is preparing to run. Disappear. She’s better off alone.

Nightmares plague her nights, oft heard words whispering through them with the remembered hint of pain. Weapon. Erase. Thing.

Her family was glad to be rid of her.

And in between each dark dream is a flash of a smile, laughter, familiar ease from different faces that accept her, intimate caresses and whispers. She stops being able to differentiate between the two. Everything is a torture, another lash at her broken mind.

Usually she wakes before any sound escapes, but tonight, that is not the case. She wakes screaming, crying, trying to pull together the coping mechanisms she’d learned when Fury forced her into therapy. But it’s gone too far, she’s too isolated, especially with the horrors of her mind stalking her in the dark corners of her room.

But someone hears.

He’s in her room before she realizes it, soft light banishing the shadows at a flick of his wrist. She stills, breathing harsh in the silence as she turns her glare on him.

“Enough.”

His voice is like a whip, cracking against her raging emotions. She lunges for him.

And lands a hit squarely across his jaw.

She’s so stunned, she stares at her fist for a moment before shoving him.

“Fight back!” she snarls.

“Is that what you need to cease this foolishness?”

She screams again and takes the remains of his magic in her blood, throwing it at him with the intent to hurt. He knocks her aside easily. Breath forced from her lungs as she collides with the wall, she stumbles to her feet and attacks him again. And again. And again.

He bats her away, letting her hit him a few times. Her shelves are knocked out of sorts, things littering the floor with her tangled sheets. At some point, she finds herself disoriented, like she’s watching this happen from above. She’s better than this. This isn’t her.

With that realization, she turns from Loki, numb spreading through her limbs. Tears race down her cheeks as spite simmers in her gut. But there’s no fuel left for it.

Arms wrap around her shoulders and waist, almost too tight for her mortal body to bear. The painful aftermath begins to trickle past the numb and she doesn’t want it, doesn’t want to feel, but she has no choice.

Her sobs wrack her body, great gasping things that cause Loki to tighten his embrace even further. He turns her when her knees give out, cupping her face and staring down at her.

“What did they do to you?” he murmurs.

Her heart stops. He only sighs and bundles her back into the bed. She soaks in how he curls around her, nearly smothering her and realizes . . . he recognizes her state.

What happened to him?

He brushes her hair aside and presses his face into the back of her neck, holds her securely in a cocoon of his arms and legs.

“Your Avengers have been frantic.”

“No, they haven’t.”

“You’ve been wallowing in here. You wouldn’t know.”

She starts to shift away, but he tightens his grip.

“You matter a great deal to them.”

Her mental scoff is faint, reality finally beating back the lies of her past. The hurt eases some at his words, but guilt follows. She closes her eyes, calling to mind these people she considers family.

Do I matter to you? she wants to ask.

“Thank you,” she whispers instead.

He nuzzles at the join of her neck and shoulder, silent. But she tastes the tension on her tongue, something unsaid.

She waits.

“I may be cruel, but you have come far, Dale Wylmont. Your magic is impressive.”

“Is that all I am? My copycat magic?” A weapon?

“Did Frigga not show you how your powers fuel your agility? Your endurance? Your strength?” he rebukes. “Your magic is part of you, even when you do not outwardly use it. It always has been. Were you never to use it again, you would still be remarkable. Mind, body, magic, and soul.”

She inhales sharply, a different set of tears wetting her eyes. Loki does not speak like this often, and he could be lying, but there's something in his words drowning out her suspicion, her wonder at her trust in him, that sounds suspiciously like sentiment.

“You are the only one to look beyond, gæludýr.”

This time, he lets her wiggle away. She turns in his arms, met with a quick glimpse of that Loki only she gets to see before it is locked behind his defenses. He brushes his nose against her cheek.

“There is poison in your mind. Do not listen.”

She breathes the first clear breath she has in days, forehead pressed to his collarbone. She does not hear the whispers that tell her this will happen again as she burns his words into her heart along with the memories of her chosen family. And she definitely does not let that word creep in as she thinks of her entanglement with Loki, his ability to see her better than the others.

His name is a whisper between them, barely audible as she tries to convey her gratitude, her care, her . . . something.

“Þú'st minn alla ævi.”

She may not understand, but her traitorous heart sings an unwanted declaration back.

[thebakerstboyskeeper]

Marvel Mayhem Masterlist

Day 1: Family

Day 2: Wounds

Day 3: Broadway

Day 4: Movie Night

Day 5: Potential

Day 6: Revealed

Day 7: Undrunk

Day 8: Come Clean

Day 9: Books

Day 10: Promise

Day 11: Asgard

Day 12: Odin

Day 13: Visions

Day 14: Home

Day 15: A Curse

Day 16: Limits

Day 17: Learning

Day 18: Clash

Day 19: Tired

Day 20: Explode

Day 21: Touch

Day 22: Liars

Day 23: Unwanted

Day 24: Worry

Day 25: Shows

[thebakerstboyskeeper]

Day 21 - Touch

When Loki enters a room, it’s as if he sends some unseen force to disturb her. She’s aware of his every movement, watching him from the corner of her eye because . . . well, she doesn’t know why. It takes everything in her to keep her thoughts away from more intimate memories.

And the longer he ignores her outside of required interactions, the more determined she is to put everything in the past.

“Is everything alright?” Steve asks one morning after Loki gives her a blatant cold shoulder over breakfast. He watches the trickster go, muscles tightening and brows drawn down in a precursor to his “fight me” mode.

“Yeah,” she says, her appetite suddenly gone. She starts to push away from the counter, but Steve’s hand over the cuff on her wrist stops her.

“Dale.”

Their eyes meet and his kindness, his care, shines through. Something cracks in her. She may not want to tell him everything, but maybe . . .

“You’re not alone in this. Loki is not your burden to bear alone. We’re all responsible for him.”

He’s not a burden, her mind whispers.

But she tells him the truth. Sort of. “I thought he and I . . . I guess I just like knowing where I stand with the people I’m supposed to trust.”

“I don’t think you need to worry. Even when it comes to Loki.”

She smiles, but doesn’t have it in her to tell him just how wrong he is.

She takes the stairs. It gives her time to sort out her thoughts away from prying eyes. Now that she’s back at the tower, her mind has decided screaming the jumbled mess at her must be the solution to making up for missed time.

The mission had been a reprieve, short as it was. At least it had provided her time to shut her brain down away from the culprit. But now it’s back with a vengeance, needling at her.

She’s so engrossed in the mess of her . . . person, she doesn’t notice someone else has the same idea until it’s too late.

They both freeze two steps away from each other. Loki’s eyes dart across her, top to bottom. Warmth follows the path of his gaze, her body yearning to lean toward him. But she remembers the awkward situations he’s put her in, the cruel barbs he’s thrown at her during training, the numerous times he’s brushed her away.

It hurts and she hates it.

He opens his mouth, but she does what she does best when it comes to her emotions. Her mind is forced into silence, the pain pushed somewhere deep.

She turns on her heel and hurries to the door she just passed. She’ll take the elevator the rest of the way.

Her back hits the mat, his hand on her throat. They both freeze, memories taking over. She can see it in the way his eyes darken.

His skin against hers is . . . she doesn’t have words to describe what it sparks in her. Even though it’s a threatening position, she presses into the hold, want awakening in her heart.

She locks her fingers in his shirt and tugs him down. He crashes against her, knocking the wind from her lungs, but that doesn’t stop the messy meeting of lips.

Her nails claw down his back until she can push his pants just past his hips, even as his hands do the same to her. His fingers stroke and twist and tease until she’s writhing under him. He pulls away and their eyes meet, a beat of stillness falling over them.

I shouldn’t.

Her grip tightens on his arms and he’s inside her, thrusts harsh and fast. Her back bows under the onslaught, breaths heavy against his neck. He cradles the back of her head even as she pushes his hair back from his face so she can see him. She wants to see his face.

His lips move over her cheeks, her nose, her forehead, her chin. She breathes a litany of pleas against him, close, so close. He decides to be benevolent and changes the angle of his thrusts, swallowing her whine as fire licks up her spine. A pinch to her clit undoes her, his hand covering her mouth as she forgets to quiet her cries. But it means she can watch as he comes, the way his eyes close, bliss smoothing his features, his lips parted as he groans low in his throat.

He’s beautiful.

He holds himself above her, head dropping so his hair tickles the skin where her shirt has ridden up and his face is hidden. His free hand smooths along her still twitching muscles. Hurt blooms in her belly and she pulls away, a hollow feeling quickly overtaking the pain. She tugs her pants back around her waist, righting her shirt. He glances up from where he’s still sitting on the ground.

“What are we doing?”

He doesn’t answer her. Doesn’t even flinch. And even though she wants nothing more to crawl back into his arms, she can’t ignore the new layer of turmoil bubbling under her skin.

She leaves him on his ass, tears stinging her eyes.

Movie night should be fun. Should be a reprieve. Instead, she’s looking around at her teammates, her family, and realizing something’s off.

Natasha and Clint are snuggled on one couch, Thor and Steve sprawled on another sharing popcorn. Bruce and Tony are on the couch with her, but their heads are bent together as they discuss something quietly. Everyone is comfortable with one another.

Except her. There’s almost an entire cushion between her and Tony when she’s usually laying across him like a barnacle.

When was the last time someone touched her? Or hugged her? And not on the damn cuff around her wrist? Or the chair she sat in?

The others stare as she storms from the room. She beelines it up the stairs to the door of Loki’s room and shoves inside when he opens at her knock.

“Was this your plan?” she snarls, rounding on him once the door is shut. “Did you tell them all it was dangerous to touch me? Did you make up some bullshit about my powers?”

He stares at her.

“Were you going to alienate me until all I had was you? What’s your game here, Loki? What--”

He strides toward her. She doesn’t move to defend herself, part of her knowing and too comfortable. When he cups her face and tilts it up toward himself, she leans into it.

“It is no fault of mine if they do not see you. If they do not cherish you. The blame lies entirely on them.”

She grabs at his wrists, eyes narrowing.

“I’ve told them nothing. As you asked of me.”

This time, when she lets him lead her to his bed and they fall back into it, it’s slow. Unspoken comforts and promises pressed into each others’ skin amongst a gentle build up until they’re clinging to each other. When they’re spent, damp limbs tangled and breaths warming the air around them, no one leaves. He holds her against his chest, her hair wrapped around his fingers.

She traces patterns into his skin and says, “They won’t understand.”

“No one ever does,” he sighs, bitterness an undercurrent to his words.

Neither has to voice that this is theirs, and theirs alone.

[thebakerstboyskeeper]

LOOK AT MY BB DALE!!

I can not recommend @plushchimera enough! This is the second time I've commissioned them and they are AMAZING!! They were fantastic working with me. And just look at how beautiful Dale came out! I love this so much!!!

*SCREAMS*

finished commission for @thebakerstboyskeeper 💚

[thebakerstboyskeeper]

Day 22 - Liars

One day, two ravens show up inside the tower. Tony is losing his mind trying to figure out how they got in while the rest try to shoo them out, but when they see Thor and Loki, they caw and garble at them. Dale tries to nudge the one nearest Loki away from him, but he catches her wrist and continues to stare at the bird. 

That's when she realizes, they both look like they understand the ravens.

As the weird bird talk goes on, Loki stiffens, his grip on her wrist tightening. She twists, making him loosen it and eventually let go. As she pulls away, she drags her nails lightly across his palm, hoping to soothe him. The tension eases from his shoulders just slightly.

She waits until they go silent to ask, “Asgard?”

Loki turns on his heel and leaves, face blank. She resists the urge to chase after him and instead turns to Thor. The others watch him as well.

“My friends, I am afraid I must leave you for a time. The Allfather has need of me. The Nine Realms are in chaos.”

“Is there a threat to us?” Natasha inquires.

Thor shakes his head. “You've shown you can defeat any who would try.”

“How long will you be gone?” Tony asks next.

“I do not know.”

“And Loki?” Steve asks.

“He is to stay here. Dale is tied to his power and . . .”

Everyone waits in silence.

“Odin doesn’t want him involved,” Dale finishes.

The heartbreak on Thor’s face is too familiar as he nods.

“I must go now.”

Thor calls Mjolnir, sending Clint diving out of the way as it flies to his hand. And that’s that, it seems. The team bids him farewell and disperses, except Tony and Dale, who follow him out to the landing pad.

“You don’t have to leave, Thor. You're an Avenger and we might need you here,” Tony says.

She sees how his massive shoulders tense, his eyes glance in the direction of Loki’s room. And for the first time - which she realizes is incredibly selfish - she wonders what Thor has bargained for Loki’s semi freedom.

“Be safe,” she whispers as she steps forward and wraps her arms around his waist.

His embrace nearly crushes her, but she squeezes against his armor before stepping back. He nods, calls out for Heimdall, and is gone in a flash of colorful lights.

She waits until after dinner and the others have gone to bed to put together a plate for Loki. She stands at his door, knocking softly. He doesn’t answer.

“Loki, dammit, at least take the food.”

Nothing.

The sigh she forces out is loud and irritated in the hopes that he hears it since he hates when she directs that at him. She leaves the plate outside his door and lets him continue on with his moping.

Loki stays locked away for days. She works on her magic alone and spars with Natasha and Steve. She tries not to miss his presence in the library and buries herself in paperwork that no one wants to do (especially Tony).

The only reason he comes out is a mission that requires all of them. Nat finds intel on a large human experimentation lab. It’s bigger than any of the others they’ve destroyed in the chain they’re currently working through. With Thor gone, their otherworldly help against untrained enhanced is down to Loki.

And it goes without a hitch. No one can say Loki doesn’t carry his weight, especially no one outside their team. He’s powerful. Anyone who implies otherwise is a fool.

They glance at one another after the battle, gazes sweeping for any visible wound. When she’s sure he’s fine, she turns away only to be met with Nat’s raised brow. Dale pointedly does a visual sweep of Nat’s body. Nat scoffs and adjusts her widow bites before smiling.

It’s when they find the cells that it all goes to hell. Most of them hold fresh corpses that make their stomachs turn. Steve’s call that he’s found a section the guards didn’t get to only brings minimal relief. But she rushes forward to help pull the remaining four out.

One is a young boy, cowering and vibrating in his own skin. He looks starved and half crazed. Dale crouches down to try to soothe him, but that’s when she sees it. A collar and cuffs around his limbs that are . . . familiar. The skin around the black plastic is bruised and bloodied, and she’d bet the skin under his clothes is too. She chokes back what emotions she can, but that doesn’t help her get her words out.

“This one has magic.”

She jumps, turning to see Loki standing in the doorway.

“Not like yours or mine though. Not what his captors wanted either, it would seem.”

“The others?”

“One woman with inhuman strength and durability. Another that can turn invisible. And a man that seems to be able to create fire at will.”

She brings her attention back to the boy. He hasn’t even registered the new presences in his prison. Her body is going numb.

He can’t go to SHIELD. He can’t.

“I don’t believe this one will survive,” he says quietly.

Nausea rolls in her gut. She stands and pushes past Loki. Nat is standing in the hallway and she nods when Dale meets her eyes.

She waits in the quinjet, watching the SHIELD agents arrive to help with cleanup. Clint and Bruce come back first. She holds out a blanket, which Bruce takes with shaky thanks as Clint settles into the cockpit. Tony joins them next, helmet off and looking vaguely ill. The other three come together, varying degrees of upset on their faces. Once they’re all safe inside, she lets herself find the most secluded corner to curl up in.

The engines hum to life under her. She tucks her knees under her chin and stares blankly ahead.

“Dale.”

The fuzzy shape in front of her clears with a blink. Nat is holding out a bottle of water, crouched in front of her.

“Drink some, zvyozdochka. You’re safe.”

Dale forces herself to mumble some kind of affirmative. It’s enough of a reaction that Nat lets her be. She catches Clint’s eye, feeling him watch her from his peripheral. She signs I’m okay with trembling hands before he’s satisfied and she can be left alone again.

Her eyes are unfocused, her mind a jumble of too many things as she registers Loki’s legs in her line of sight. She tucks her face into her arms, hoping he’ll get the message.

He doesn’t. There’s a ripple in reality that she recognizes. It’s strong enough that it breaks through the mess she’s drowning in. Loki sits, pulling her into his lap, wrapping her in his arms securely.

“What--”

“They won’t see a thing.”

Illusion.

She sags against him, trying to find her stable footing again. Trying to erase the image of the boy from her mind.

Loki speaks quietly, weaving stories both familiar and foreign as they fly home. He holds her tighter when the trembling gets bad, easing his grip when she breathes normally.

“I’m okay,” she whispers.

“Liar,” he chuckles before picking up where he’d left off in his tale.

He appears in her room that night, letting her curl around him in the bed. She traces her fingers across his bare chest. She still feels raw and laid bare. He’s got that guarded, faraway look in his eyes.

They’re quite the pair.

“Do you miss him?” she asks.

He blinks, brow furrowing. When his blue eyes shift to hers, they’re icy. She presses her cheek against his shoulder, unaffected.

“Why would I miss that oaf?”

She smiles and thinks, Liar.

[thebakerstboyskeeper]

Flectere si nequeo superos, Acheronta movebo

“Loki.”

Her voice is shaking, just like her body. But her eyes are steady, tears lining the bottom of them. She offers him a smile that should be comforting, though it fails. Sadness laces every feature on her face, a hint of fear buried underneath.

Soft fingers, buzzing with his magic, press to his hand.

“It’s okay.”

He gasps, shaking his head.

They’ve watched companions disintegrate into ash all around them. In the middle of this Norns forsaken desert, the battle lost with a snap of fingers, he knows he’s about to lose the person most precious to him.

Just one more thing the titan will take from him.

Thor stares in horror as part of her leg crumbles, grey flakes swirling lazily on the air. Loki can’t stop the wounded snarl that rips from his chest.

“It’s okay.”

He takes her in, drinking in the sight of her. Her blood and dirt matted curls mussed, wild strands escaping from the braid. Armor splattered with black gore, broken on the side where she’d taken a hit from the gauntlet as Thanos swept her out of his path. Her life’s blood a glaring streak down the side of her face.

His silence breaks her. The tears escape, running down her grimy cheeks as she closes her eyes. More of her scatters and he cannot lose her.

“No!”

At the touch of his hands, she opens her eyes and stares at him, committing him to a memory that has only seconds left. These moments too long and yet too fast, stolen in the midst of inevitable fate. He pulls her close. Praying to anyone listening that his embrace will hold her here.

“I love you.”

It’s a sob, broken, desperate. She needs him to know, but he doesn’t want to hear it. Their time was already too short without this thievery. If ever he’d doubted the Norns’ hatred of him, he’s sure of it now.

Her words struggle to form now. “Get him. Make him pay. Love you.”

His lips crash against hers, the chaos of his emotions burned into the kiss. His heart pounds stay stay stay. If his love could keep her here, she’d never leave.

But it’s not enough. She crumbles in his grasp. Gone in a gust of wind. That simple. His pale fingers now stained with black. Magic roils within him, fueled by pain and loss and pure, unadulterated anguish.

Thor watches his brother collapse to his knees, ashes strewn across his face, heaviest around his lips. His eyes are empty, the madness from so long ago eclipsed by something more fierce, dark. Loki stares at the spot his love’s remains drift away from, their comrade’s cries of shock and sorrow a background symphony to this moment. This moment when everything shifts. Irreparable. The shadow of Loki’s hurt moving to cover all.

No one else notices, but Thor feels the foundations of the universe tremble.

[thebakerstboyskeeper]

Day 20 - Explode

Dale and Loki are a ticking bomb. She knows this. It’s only a matter of time until they explode one way or another. Almost every interaction puts fuel on the fire; her unthinking kindness extended to him, the secretive glances, the sharing and discussion of “Midgard entertainment,” comfortable silences, his touch healing her hurts, and the lingering moments of closeness during training.

The others begin to greet him when he enters a room and reluctantly accept him accompanying them to the little hole in the wall restaurants they all adore. Or when Thor gets it into his head to explore the tourist traps of New York and he insists Loki come with, which means Dale has to tag along, it’s inevitable that some of the team will join in. No one objects - except maybe Clint - but in those situations, Loki is cool. Distant. Sometimes cruel when someone pokes too hard at him. He messes with everyone in the tower and doesn't seem to know how to handle kindness shown to him.

But he never fails to fight on missions or silently lend his aid when he sees a need. Even if it is slightly grudging.

And Dale finds she likes it.

They may not be friends, but she enjoys his mercurial nature. She can see hints of fondness in something he does that may look downright antagonistic from the outside. She sees how much he loves his brother. Even if he buries it deep. Sure, she’s not fond of the moments when his words turn into barbed blades, but he’s curious and brilliant and powerful.

And an asshole, but so is Dale.

The more time she spends watching his quiet contemplation or winning a hint of a smile or enjoying his pranks, the more she thinks of his kiss and the way his hand felt against her.

One way or another, they’re going to snap. It’s only a question of whether they’ll explode and cause devastation or if they can just get it out of their system and move on.

She hates this waiting to see which it’ll be.

“We’re clear here. Thor? Widow?”

“Clear on this side,” comes Nat’s voice over the comms in response to Steve.

“Loki? Erinys?”

“Not yet,” she huffs.

Both she and Loki had burst into this room expecting the lone leader of another human experimentation lab. Instead, they’d run headfirst into a room packed wall to wall with soldiers. A blast from her had cleared almost half of them out of the way, but the rest converged with a violence she was unprepared for.

Loki is a blur, daggers striking and flying with unfailing accuracy. She covers his back, crushing those who come close with a magic she learned courtesy of an Enhanced on her last mission. Her gun takes care of those too far for her to gather into her golden net.

By the time they can catch their breath, they’re standing in the midst of way too many bodies. She winces, looking around at them. Too many who had thrown their lives behind an unworthy cause.

“Clear here,” she says. “No sign of Grondel though. Anyone else got him?”

Negatives come back to her through her earpiece as she reloads and holsters her weapon. She turns to Loki, who is flicking blood off his blades with a curled lip.

“Feel like going on a hunt?”

That grin, the manic one that sends chills down her spine, lights his face. She smiles back, tugging on her braid.

Movement catches her eye over his shoulder. Her eyes widen and instinct makes her reach out, shove Loki to the side. Only his surprise allows her to actually move him.

A choked off cry escapes as something slices at her side and through her armored vest. The force of it knocks her off her feet. She catches herself before her face smashes into the floor, her other hand grasping at the burning wound. The faint tingle of energy she recognizes as Loki’s magic fills the room and he shouts, an accompanying sound to that of flesh splitting.

“Your leader has been taken care of. Wylmont is wounded.”

She gasps as Loki yanks her up, his eyes drawn to where she holds the gaping hole in her skin.

“You are the most infuriating, idiotic--”

“Please berate me for being stupid later. I didn’t think, I just reacted.”

“That is all too clear--”

“Loki, there was something in that. Fuck, it’s burning!”

He takes on her weight as she sags, pulling her hand away. He smears his thumb through the blood on her fingers.

“Wylmont says she’s been poisoned. I’m taking her to the jet.”

She fights back a whimper as he pulls her closer.

“Hold onto me, gæludýr.”

“Wha--”

He steps and it’s like being squeezed. And being weightless. And moving, but not. The feeling lets up and she finds herself in the quinjet. She sways, nausea overtaking the fire in her veins for a moment.

“Do not vomit on me, Wylmont.”

She nods, mouth clamped shut, and hears Clint’s voice.

“Put her here.”

Loki lifts her and lays her on the cot. Footsteps pound up the ramp and toward her as her vision spots.

“Look out,” Steve says, nudging Loki gently away and pulling her uniform from the wound.

“I’ve got you, zvyozdochka,” Nat murmurs before fiddling around and injecting something in Dale’s thigh.

“Ow,” she groans.

But whatever Natasha did eases the effects of the poison. As the jet lifts off and they head home, the suffocating fear and pain drains away, replaced by an uncomfortable tug and sting as Steve cleans the original wound. Loki steps in at some point, his magic weaving it closed.

Bruce takes her to the medbay, giving her another dose of the antidote - because it’s apparently one SHIELD is familiar with but didn’t warn them about before sending them in - and checking absolutely everything before releasing her. She goes straight for her room to shower and sleep.

Just another day in the life, she thinks as she drifts off.

Something startles her awake. She lashes out, but doesn’t hit anything, her fist caught in a flash of green.

“Loki, what the fuck? Lights!”

Her lamp clicks on, showing her a certain God of Bugging Dale in casual pants and a tunic. He releases her and stalks forward, looming over her.

“Do you have a death wish?”

“Yes.”

His eyes flash. She rolls over, giving him her back. She did say he could lay into her later. Now is technically later.

“Either lay down and quietly berate me and let me sleep or leave.”

Stunned silence presses down on her. She tries to ignore it, but with him haunting her room like an angry poltergeist, there's no escaping it. She flips to her back, sighing and realizing how incredibly sore and parched she is.

She tosses the covers back and moves past him, ignoring how he tries to catch her.

“Where are you going?”

“I’m thirsty. And annoyed by you.”

He follows her to the small kitchenette in her living room, eyes boring into her back as she pours a glass of water. She sucks it down, more thirsty than she actually realized. By the time she’s on her third glass, she sips at it, turning to face him.

“I hope this is riveting entertainment for you.”

“You could have died--”

“Pretty sure I told you last time this happened that it wouldn’t be the last time. Besides, I don’t know why you care,” she sighs.

“It wouldn’t have harmed me.”

“You don’t know that. It would be more difficult for us to treat you than me anyway.”

He’s on her, hands tight around her arms, nose to nose. His eyes are wide, hinting at how close he is to unhinging. Open and vulnerable. They’ve both gotten under the other’s skin. They’re both slowly driving the other mad. They’re both too close to igniting.

Instinct makes her want to shove and snarl and strike at him. But that look in his eyes hits her in the gut. One of the many glimpses she thinks she gets of the core of him. So she reaches out, cups his cheek.

“Why do you care?” she whispers.

His lashes flutter and it's gone. A smile replaces it, slightly feral, and he murmurs something before he's hauling her atop the counter. Their mouths meet in a clash of teeth and heat. Dale’s always associated Loki with ice for multiple reasons, but there’s no sign of it here. Either way, he’s dangerous and destined to burn her. Has been since the day he came to the Avengers.

His hand in her hair yanks her head back, holding her steady and exposing her throat to him. She should protest, especially as he shreds her shirt, but when his teeth scrape the vulnerable skin on her neck and his own magically naked chest presses to hers, she doesn’t want to. Doesn’t want him to stop.

His mouth is everywhere, little pinpoints of pain followed by gentle kisses across her body. When he finally, finally, draws a nipple into his mouth, her breath escapes in a whine. He releases her hair, hands tracing down her ribs, stomach, thighs, until he pulls her underwear down and tosses it aside.

Before she has a moment to catch up to what’s happening, he shoulders her knees apart and gives her legs the same treatment. Sharper and quicker with his bites and kisses, there’s no slow build as he moves up to the wetness between her legs and runs the flat of his tongue along her cunt. It sends a shock through her, her nails scratching against the unforgiving quartz of the countertop.

His tongue dances over her folds, alternating teasing and rough pressure. She growls his name, but it cuts off as he sucks her clit into his mouth and pushes two fingers into her. Her heels press into the cool skin of his back, thighs trembling as he nips at her bud and drags the pads of his fingers along her walls. She finds his hair and yanks, drawing his eyes up to hers.

There.

He’s grinning against her, his movements turning demanding. Her hips buck against his face and his hand on her stomach holds her still until he feels her shaking apart around him. The liquid pleasure racing along her veins leaves her burning.

As Loki stands, an almost cruel smile on his face, his lips glistening with her release, she tugs him forward. Tasting herself on him and feeling his clothed hardness against her . . . she’s pretty sure she’s lost her sanity.

“Gæludýr--”

“Stop calling me that.”

His chuckle rumbles against her chest as he lifts her and carries her back to the bed. Yes yes yes. She gasps as he lands atop her, rolling his hips into her, setting her alight yet again.

“You, gæludýr, are--”

She locks her legs around his waist and throws her weight, sending him to his back and straddling his waist. Her fingers tighten around his wrists and she growls, ���For once in your life, Loki, shut up and fuck me.”

His pants are gone and he’s inside her, both of them breathing hard like they’ve had the wind knocked from them. There’s nothing gentle here as he twists her back under himself, his hips snapping against her, his fingers tangled with hers and pinning her arms above her head. Their mouths slide messily together, their joining a storm of chaos as every press of his body against hers shoves them closer and closer to the edge.

He cages her in his arms as she comes, following quickly with a stuttering of his thrusts. She strokes his back as he breathes against her collarbone. As soon as he’s calmed, he pulls away, leaving her empty and feeling somehow...mournful. She resists the urge to reach for him and instead accepts his kiss on her brow, holds close the whisper of her name as he summons his clothes back on and steps out of her room.

A few tears work their way out of her eyes as she sits up and stares at the rumpled sheets around her. She huffs and goes to clean herself up, ignoring the looming sense that this hasn’t solved a damn thing.

She kicks the sheets to the floor, wrapping herself in a spare blanket. As she stares at the ceiling, she calls out, “Jarvis?”

“Yes, Miss Dale?”

“You didn’t see a thing.”

There’s a beat of AI hesitation and then, “There was nothing to see.”

She doesn’t find any more sleep that night.

[thebakerstboyskeeper]

This is so AMAZING @shannaraisles! It’s honestly magical and I love how you captured these two and how do you even weave your words this way? I LOVE THIS SO MUCH!! Thank you thank you thank you!!!!

Let Down Your Hair

A commission fic for @thebakerstboyskeeper, who requested a fairytale within the MCU, featuring Loki and her OC, Dale Wylmont.

***

Once upon a time, they said the best way to keep a caged bird happy was to never let it fly. Now they know better.

Once upon a time, a man and a woman had a child - a daughter, whom they named Dale. She was sweet and strong, blessed with magic that comes perhaps once in every lifetime. And because of that gift, she was taken from her parents, and raised behind a shield, taught to suppress the magic in her blood in favor of learned skills for fear of pain in revealing her innate talent.

As the years passed, she grew into a strong woman, kind and warm yet always hiding that one part of herself behind walls harder than diamond. When the shield fell, and the Tower beyond became a place of safety, of friends, she allowed herself become a part of their group, yet never shared the reason she had been brought behind the shield so young. She found a home, and a family, and was as loved by them as by the parents who had lost her so long before.

Yet with that family came a protectiveness that slowly began to set her teeth on edge. There was a danger in the Tower with them - the Trickster Prince who had almost brought the world to ruin, condemned to the custody of those he had hurt the most in his ill-fated attempt to please a master he may or may not have served willingly. The brothers she had gained in the new life carved after the disaster - the honorable Captain, the genius Man of Iron, the Hawk - would not have him near her, each doing what he could to keep the Trickster from the princess in their Tower. Only one seemed not to notice the dangers of such a meeting, and he was both a chosen brother to her, and the Thunder Prince of Asgard, a truer brother to the Trickster.

Keep reading

[thebakerstboyskeeper]

🍓🍓🍓 GIMME DAAAAAAALE! :D

For my love!!

🍓 Dale is the only one who has ever actually come close to beating Hawkeye in an accuracy competition. Neither one was very happy with the outcome. It was too close. For both of them.

🍓 Tony is convinced she sneaks out to BDSM clubs when no one is looking, but she somehow manages to get past his security unseen so he can’t prove it. But nothing else explains the occasional rope burn or marks on her neck.

🍓 Loki would never comment on it, but she will wiggle underneath him in her sleep. His weight and being surrounded by his body seems to comfort her. (He might love it. But probably not.)

[thebakerstboyskeeper]

Day 7 - Undrunk

A familiar presence sneaks up behind her. She glares at Tony’s good bottle of Scotch, resisting the urge to hurl it across the room. If she can still detect him, it’s not doing its job very well.

“Go away, Loki.”

She can feel his gaze on her back. Her new plan is to hurl the bottle at him. Hopefully right at his too attractive face.

“Do they not know?” he murmurs.

“I’m not discussing this with you.”

Shit. She’s slurring.

“The Widow does. And the Hawk. Is that all?”

A bang sounds through the darkened common area as her head hits the island counter.

“Leave me alone.”

His expectant silence fills the room like a fog, cloying and stretching into the corners until it’s all that’s left. Her own skin is suffocating her, a sting beginning in her eyes. She will not cry in front of him, especially not when it feels like that horrid part of her is seconds away from repeating what happened four days ago. She needs to escape, but she doesn’t want to go to her room. If she sleeps, then the last defense is gone and she could . . .

At least alcohol dulls her senses and reactions. Or is supposed to.

Still, her room is the only safe haven from him. She slides from the stool, gripping it as things shift just slightly off and her legs wobble. Loki watches her, arms behind his back.

“You don’t use it.”

“Good grief, stop,” she groans, rubbing at her pounding head.

“Is that why SHIELD wanted you?”

“I swear, Loki--”

“What can you do?”

“I really--”

“How does it work?”

“I don’t know!” she shouts. “Happy? I don’t know what I can do! I don’t know how it works! I can’t even fucking control it!”

Her back collides with the island as she stumbles. She grasps at it, fighting back tears. His eyes are slightly too wide for his attempted casual demeanor, his hands hanging at his sides.

“I can keep it locked away. That’s it. And that’s where it should stay.”

The drastic volume change in her voice spurs him to action. He steps closer, something slouchy about his regal posture. She squints at him.

“Let me teach you.”

“No,” she scoffs.

“A warrior should use all tools available to them.”

She knows it’s a low blow before she says it. “Is that how Asgard saw your magic?”

His flinch is miniscule. She takes no pleasure in it, strangely enough. But she just wants to get away from him. Especially since he’s not going to let up.

“You should know--”

“Stop it!”

She shoves at him. The only problem is she completely misjudges her aim with the alcohol starting to cloud her brain. A cool grip on her wrists keeps her from faceplanting and making an even bigger fool of herself.

Her breath catches. With everything so close to the surface, she can feel his powers. She can feel the wrongness, how it snarls and paces and bangs at its cage like a wild animal.

She wonders if it hurts him.

Yanking herself free and reclaiming the half full bottle, she skitters around him. The only movement he makes is to turn his head and track her from his peripheral.

“Forget it exists.”

As she waits for the elevator, she whispers, “Please.”

He doesn’t follow her, doesn’t say anything else. In the dark of her room, she finishes off the bottle and promises she’ll work on burying it again tomorrow.

[thebakerstboyskeeper]

Day 12 - Odin

“You may be a guest of my son’s, but you are still mortal and have no business meddling in the affairs of Asgard.”

Dale hates Odin. She really does.

“You made it a ‘mortal’ affair when you sentenced your son to our custody.”

He glares at her. She glares right back. If it weren't for Frigga standing off to the side, she might give him a piece of her mind.

She still might, Frigga be damned.

“Loki is a petulant child, throwing a fit because he was denied a throne.”

“If you believe that--”

“I know it,” he snaps.

She takes a deep breath, calling to mind Nat’s calm. And Steve’s disappointed face, even though he'd probably do exactly what she wants to do.

“With all due respect, sir, if you spent one minute talking to your son or whatever you're claiming he is now, and actually listening, I think you're smart enough to see not all is as it seems.”

He fumes. She's certain it's only his wife's presence and the fact that Thor has claimed her as a sister shieldmaiden in arms or something that keeps her from being struck down just then. Her position with him seems to hinge on too many other people.

Her heart pounds and her hands shake as she steels herself. She's ninety percent positive there's a story she doesn't have all the parts to. Or that anyone has all the parts to, save Loki himself. She’s one hundred percent positive she doesn’t want to betray her observations, nor anything Loki has said to her, to this man.

“Loki has spent over a year serving with the Avengers. He has fought beside us, risked his life for us, saved some of our lives, not to mention he’s been repeatedly cut off and granted access to his magic and cut off again. I know how that feels. That is crueler than anything I can imagine, though that seems to be your preferred form of punishment for your sons.”

Odin opens his mouth.

“The Avengers need Loki with his full powers to face the threats that come our way. He is a member of our team. We see things differently than you, but keeping him at a disadvantage and asking him to continually fight is not something we are willing to do. We, as Avengers, have chosen to extend our trust to him. So, you will send him back to Earth with Thor and I, with  access to his magic to continue his sentence. Or you will find you have enemies on your hands. And I think we’ve proven we can go toe to toe with you.”

She sketches a short bow and turns on her heel, but not before catching Frigga’s subdued smile of pride.

Odin’s voice stops her departure from the throne room.

“You, a direct victim of Loki’s actions, would place your trust in him and accept him?”

Rage boils in her gut, but she turns her head to glance over her shoulder. “I would.”

“Then mortals are more foolish than I thought.”

“Maybe. Or maybe we’re just willing to accept mistakes and look beyond the obvious. And forgive. We’ve all made bad decisions. So has Loki. All we can do is accept who we are and try to be better.”

His staff bangs on the ground, which she takes as being dismissed. She rolls her eyes as she finally reaches the door and pushes outside, wishing she could slam them behind her. Still, she doesn’t think she did half bad. And Thor is waiting for her to do . . . something.

A few steps later, she nearly collides with the queen.

“Shit! Oh! Uh--”

Frigga takes her hands in one of hers, cupping her cheek with the other. Dale leans into it without a second thought.

“Thank you,” she murmurs.

Dale blinks, about to question her, when Frigga kisses her forehead and hurries away. She’s left standing alone in a hall, wondering what the hell is going on with Asgard.