#burned if only to reach the sunlight - it's a deathtrap... because of course it is... all attachments are but Sanji's love is the death tra

[an-au-blog]

Oh, your love is sunlight

Happy (late) Valentine's Day (version without text ↓ +description in tags)

[ragnarachael]

the valiant arsonist — worry

Pairing: Loki x TVA Agent!Reader

Word Count: 2,273

Summary: You're not sure what to do with the new found information Loki's given you, and you meet what seems to be a new hire.

Note(s): this is part two of WHO KNOWS HOW MANY also the gif has nothing to do with the content of my fic,,,, i just love watching it and watched it for like.. 5 mins before adding it on here. (also shoutout to @klargreeves for their loki post about how he’s the reason behind Julius Caesar getting stabbed!! it’s mentioned briefly in this piece!) 

file no. 1 file no. 2 (you are here)

"You're going to what?" You asked suddenly, panic starting to flood through your veins. Loki just stayed still, the smirk on his face still evident as the sunlight from the singular window beamed down onto his pale skin.

"You heard me, darling," he stated. "I don't believe it needs repeating."

You tried to form words, but every time you opened your mouth, shock took over and made you silent.

"Be sure to keep that mouth shut, pet, or I'll readily find another use for it," Loki quipped from his seat, his smirk only growing as you recoiled in disgust from his comment.

"Why would you be burning this place to the ground?"

"Is it not obvious? Your team has captured me. I would rather be out in the world continuing my personal vendetta and not continue to be locked up in this Hel you deem as your place of work." You blinked at the God as you started to slowly stand from your seat. "I thought your kind were smarter than this."

"Well," you started, stepping around your chair to push it back in how you found it as you tried to ignore the gravity of his reply. "We are."

Loki scoffed out a laugh that definitely shook you to your core. "Now that, I beg to differ, darling. Just because you are simply a researcher does not mean you're knowledgeable."

To say that his comment hurt you would be an understatement.

"Stop with the nicknames. Just—Just stop," you demanded weakly, taking in a shaking breath as you tried to stand up straight, squaring your shoulders again. "Is there anything else you have planned?"

"Like I would tell you," Loki replied easily, the smirk finally going away to be replaced with a venomous smile.

You sighed quietly and found your hands rubbing your face for a moment.

"This has been... enlightening," you finally began, forcing a kind smile at Loki. "Thank you for your response, Loki. We'll be in touch."

You turned to leave before you could even get a reply, twisting the doorknob and pressing against the door again once you were on the other side, feeling like you could finally, finally breathe clean air.

Loki was quick to get under your skin and make you even more anxious about speaking with him than you were to begin with. Maybe that's what he had as powers.

Maybe.

Or, perhaps he was just a huge prick from some kind of family of Gods.

Regardless, you had little time for recovery as you could hear the radio's the security guards used coming from the opposite end of the hall. So, you pulled yourself together and made it seem like you were checking on the guards to see that they were back from their break.

After giving a brief welcome back to the men you smiled and walked back into the sea of desks, easily navigating to your own before looking through your small stack of files to dig up your research.

Loki's voice was still echoing in your head.

I'm going to burn this place to the ground.

It still made you shudder, even thinking about the smirks and smiles he gave you when you two conversed. Frankly, you could feel the hair on your arms standing up just thinking about it.

This also made you realize that no one noticed where you had gone. It was suspicious for sure. Everyone who worked at the TVA knew who was doing what at all times.

Maybe you were actually sneaky enough.

You grabbed a pen and started to manually write down everything you could remember from your visit with Loki, ignoring the painful scratch of the pen tip against the paper as your writing speed picked up.

Once you had finished transcribing the conversation in your notes, it finally crossed your mind that you were right.

Loki is planning something. And your director didn't believe you.

You could tell her, but that was at the cost of admitting how you got that information...

Or, you could just sit back and watch what would happen while the rest of the group figured a plan of attack to get Loki to talk and admit to his actions.

Sighing, you closed your research files and started to reach for the file that held all of Loki's time disturbances, deciding that you should brush up on the information and not actually believe anything this man says.

He is a criminal, afterall.

The manila folder was thick. Thicker than you remembered from the first time you had discovered the slight disruptions in the multiverse, and you wouldn't be too shocked if there was another folder to accompany the first one.

Upon opening the folder, you saw what little profiling the TVA had on Loki. It was stapled to the left side of the cardstock, all printed in black and white ink. Your eyes drifted to the technical mugshot that was taken of Loki the day you caught him and could feel fear starting to bubble in your stomach.

He had that devious smile as he stared right into the camera. Next to the mugshot was the simple basic identification questions, but next to race, place of birth, family, and species there were question marks followed by unknown.

At least you knew that he could most certainly be a God.

After eyeing the rest of the document, you turned your direction to the stack of papers that were attached to the right side of the folder, looking at the neon green sticky note on the top.

"All known time disturbances for inmate 60383," you easily read aloud off the sticky note before lifting the sheet it was stuck on to see another sheet full of images and handwritten descriptions. "Oh my god.."

You don't know how the pictures were taken or even who took the pictures (let's be realistic, it was probably the Chronomonitors up stairs), but it looked like the Theatre of Pompeii.

From 44 BC.

Your mind made the connections immediately, noticing the Greek architecture and the pictures varying with men of all sorts stabbing another man.

It was the Ides of March. Well—March 15th. The day Julius Caesar was stabbed 23 times.

Loki was behind that assassination, because of course he was.

As you continued in his files, you found that he was actually behind a lot of mishaps in history.

Including but not limited to: causing the French Revolution in 1789, The assassination of Archduke Franz Ferdinand—also the assassination of Alexander The Great's father—and many, many more things that just so happened to change history in the universe.

It was giving you a headache, learning everything he's accomplished in such a short time. It's like mischief was his job.

"Wait a second," you mumbled to yourself, twisting in your office chair slightly to click around on your computer screen to open a search engine. Once you opened the first search engine your mouse could find, you typed in Norse Mythology and waited for the screen to load. Your computer was taking ages, which let you have your eyes wander on your desktop before catching the time in the upper right hand corner of your computer screen.

It was 12:30 in the afternoon.

Cursing quietly you were quick to get up from your seat, almost forgetting to close the loading window of your search as you grabbed your jacket that you tossed on the corner of your desk forever ago when you came in at 6 this morning.

"Okay, jacket, wallet—" you let your hand slip into your back pocket, feeling the plastic edge of Travis's I.D. as you pulled it out of the pocket. You've never been faster to shove something deep within the confines of a random desk drawer, cursing as you grabbed your car keys in rapid succession before practically flying through the sea of desks provided by the TVA officials.

The elevator was... calming. In a way. Smooth jazz playing on the speakers followed by occasional dings that signified what floor you were passing.

Until you were stopped on the 13th floor of the building, a man stepped in. He was tall, short dirty blond curls resting pristinely on his head. His hair actually looked to be borderline auburn thanks to the lighting in this metal deathtrap, you noted. You also noticed he was dressed up in an almost similar get up as you were that researchers were required to wear in the office.

The two of you gave awkward yet kind smiles to each other as he stepped in, hands in his jean pockets.

"Uh, what floor?" You asked softly, gesturing to the panel you were standing close to. The man glanced at the board.

"Same floor as you," he replied with the same tone.

He had an accent. A british accent. He reminded you of someone from Earth-199999, and you couldn't put your finger on it.

All you did was nod in reply before letting your hands go into your jacket pockets, redirecting your gaze to the elevator doors as the beeping started to continue as you passed floors.

After passing floor ten, you started to actually look closely at the man.

His jawline looked like it was structured by some higher power, and if you were to try and even touch you'd have cut something open. His stubble dusted over the sharp edges, though. It looked a lot softer than it might if he were clean shaven—which with the policies in the TVA, would be soon—and frankly, you'd like to see it.

It's almost like he looked like—

"Tom Hiddleston!" You exclaimed, finally making the connection in your brain.

"I beg your pardon?" The stranger asked, turning his head to look at you.

"Sorry, it's just," you started, laughing awkwardly, "you look a lot like this famous actor from Earth-199999. Tom Hiddleston."

"Oh," he started while shifting on his feet, seeming to step closer to you. "He's in that one show on Broadway, isn't he?"

"Yeah, uh, Betrayal I think it's called? I can't remember. It's been ages since I've looked at those files from that case forever ago."

There was a brief pause between the two of you before you took a breath and decided to introduce yourself, holding out your hand as you tried to relay your name without the awkward tone you still had in your voice.

The man smiled again and let one of his hand out of his pocket to shake your own. "Jonathan."

"Well, it's nice to meet you, not Tom Hiddleston—"

"Don't start that," Jonathan groaned playfully, the both of you sharing a laugh. "Are you part of Director Love's team?"

You nodded as you recovered from giggling in your corner of the elevator. "Yeah."

"She's really a piece of work."

"Yeah, but she gets her missions done," you replied easily, looking up at Jonathan. "Are you with Director Wilson?"

Jonathan looked confused for a moment before shaking his head, "no, no. Director Mills."

"Ah. Heard he's a tough guy."

"He's like the drill sergeant I've never had."

The two of you shared a laugh again before a comfortable silence took over the space. The jazz music seemed to have stopped playing now, which confused you slightly before Jonathan spoke up again.

"I don't mean to be rude or.. or break the rules, but what's your current mission about? Isn't it with that Loki guy?"

You hesitated for a moment. Why would you tell Jonathan anything about your mission? You've never seen him around before, let alone get told about him period. He seemed like a new hire. Newer than you.

That alone made you want to slam one of the buttons on the elevator wall so you could get off to avoid this whole topic.

And yet, you nodded, still under his curious gaze as you took a deep breath.

"Yeah. Inmate 60383. He's.. He's, well," you exhaled uneasily, letting out a weak laugh, "he's definitely something."

Jonathan didn't seem to like that answer enough.

"Something? What is that meant to mean?" He sounded like he was offended on Loki's behalf. You couldn't help the look you gave the man. It was a mix of confusion and offense.

"If you tried to interrogate him, you'd get it." You let out a sigh as you could feel the tension rise between the two of you, the elevator finally getting to the first floor of the building. The usual automated voice rung out in the metal box, announcing arrival to the first floor before the doors opened.

You were quick to get out, Jonathan following behind as he called your name. He probably noticed he struck a chord with his question.

Luckily, you were the only two in the main lobby of the TVA building as he kept trying to get your attention.

You grabbed the handle to the doors that led to the parking lot, turning around to look at Jonathan who seemed to look apologetic as he said your name one final time.

"I-I'm sorry for my comment. Really. I just want to know more about Inmate 60..."

"60383," you finished for him, part of you thinking you should be feeling skeptical about this whole situation.

"Yeah. 60383."

"Well," you started, letting your hand fall from the door handle, "I can't tell you anything, it's protocol. And I'd like to keep my job."

And with that, you threw open the main door to the building and walked out to the parking lot to head to your car and finally meet up with Travis for lunch.

[dxrk-incxrnxte]

Unexpected Changes Ch. 1

           The recent loss of a loved one, the burning hatred to the perpetrator behind it. That is what had drawn Kikoku to the young boy in the first place, and probably what drew the boy to them as well.

           Whispers of promises to help him exact his revenge were more than enough to convince to emotionally unstable human, yet despite that, he still asked questions as to what would happen to him in the end. The sword was more than happy to answer, to give him the truth of what would befall his soul. However, despite the obvious implications of his death, the human boy agreed to the terms in exchange for the sword’s power and protection.

           That was how Trafalgar Law with his deadly nodachi on his shoulder became a common sight over the years…

           Even after years of sailing on the seas with a crew that absolutely adored the man, Law, their wielder, never let anything distract him from his ultimate goal. It was admirable, in all honesty. Previous wielders had a tendency to go astray from their original goal, not that it mattered in the long time though.

           Despite no sunlight pouring through the porthole of the captain’s quarters, it seemed that Law’s internal clock told him it was morning, which meant it was time to get up for the day. It was something Kikoku did not have; they relied on the sunlight and on their wielders to give them the time of day. Being underwater, in this metal deathtrap, it took quite some time to get used to.

           The movement of the man brought the sword back from their musings, throwing their senses outwards in order to get a better awareness of the submarine and its inhabitants.

           Nothing out of the ordinary. Good.

           A tattooed hand wrapped around their sheathe, lifting them off of the ground and resting them on a shoulder instead, drawing their attention back to their immediate surroundings. Exhaustion and apathy poured off the surgeon in waves, which Kikoku ignored in favor for giving off a comforting aura. They could feel the amusement from the man, earning a small smile for their efforts. It was enough, for now.

          Everything was safe, everything was normal. The normalcy lulled the cursed blade into something similar to, but not quite, sleep. Even the dull chatter of those lost souls they kept within them couldn’t pull them from this much-deserved rest.

          Most of the morning was spent dozing as the crew and captain went through their usual morning routines. However, the news of an island spotted on the horizon immediately brought Kikoku’s attention back to the present. It wasn’t long after that the raven-haired captain was standing in front of his crew to address them.

           “As most of you may have guessed,” Law began, shifting his grip on the sword, “there is a rather large island ahead. Yes, we are going to stop there, but only to restock supplies. After we’ve done that, we have to move on because the Log Pose isn’t pointing at this island. Staying too long here may ruin the course set by it. Be on your guard as well; other pirate ships, as well as Marine ships have been spotted in the area. Understood?”

            There were a variety of noises of acknowledgement, which seemed to be enough for the captain. The blade hummed in anticipation, conveying the feeling of excitement as best they could to the man. An island meant sunlight, fresh air, and the potential for battle. It was a shame their wielder didn’t share their love of bloodshed and death. Some things couldn’t be helped.

           The hour it took to reach the island felt like nothing to the sword, having lived well over a century already. Time was meaningless when one’s blade was never left unpolished or bloodied by a recent victim. The docking process was annoying to deal with, however, leaving the nodachi agitated over the long procedure.

          Patience was a virtue, but Kikoku had never been one for virtues in the first place.

           That first step taken out of the metal deathtrap and into the sun was always the best; it left them feeling invigorated and ready for action. A shame Law never felt the same about where that energy should be spent…

          “Before we find the supplies we need, we first need an inn. I’m sure many of you want to spend a night on dry land, so stick close to me for now.” The crew cheered, making all sorts of racket and drawing too much attention already. It was good the Heart Pirates was such a small crew; most inns probably couldn’t handle more.

          The amused feeling quickly faded when ill intent struck through them like lightning. Something was wrong, very wrong. Someone here meant harm to their wielder, possibly the crew as well. The intent quickly faded, disappearing as if it had sensed the cursed blade as well and decided to retreat. Even with the intent gone, they still reached into their wielder’s mind and conveyed the message of ill intent to him. A gentle push was the man’s response; something simple to inform them that he had received their message. It would do, for now…

           The next morning brought with it the sunlight, and the awakening of the Surgeon of Death. For once, it was bright and warm, and that was thanks to the inn the crew had found the day previous.

           However, the morning did not come peacefully for Kikoku.

           Ill intent had circled the place all night long, and even into this very morning. It was if someone had scouted out the place and the occupants, possibly looking for weaknesses or formulating a plan. It was unnerving, and frankly, quite alarming. It seemed Law had picked up on their agitation, if the look he was giving the sword was anything to go by.

           “What’s wrong, Kikoku-ya? You seem… Upset…” The tattooed man spoke softly, almost like he was talking to a frightened animal. For that, the sword flung anger and agitation at him, sensing him flinch from the ferocity of it.

           “No need to get nasty. I understand you’re upset, but no need to take it out on me.” Even so, he picked up the blade and kept them close throughout his morning routine, and eventual descent down the inn stairs.

           The day was spent gathering supplies, and bringing them back to the submarine. It would be considered relaxing, in a way, if not for that awful sensation that plagued Kiko the entire day. After enough time focusing on it, they could determine if was from a larger group, one that rivaled the Heart Pirate crew in size. Each new piece of information was relayed to the captain, keeping him updated and on-guard for possible attacks.

           Unfortunately, the attack still took them all by surprise. One moment, the group had been walking down the road, and the next, attackers pounced from every angle in a sneak attack.

           The sing of their blade being freed from the confines of the sheathe brought Kikoku such joy. Yes, it was unfortunate that the crew was attacked, but they lived to maim and kill, so that was what they would do. And so ensued the lethal dance they and Law performed, one of screams, of limbs being removed and replaced, and of fear. It was absolutely beautiful, although others might not see it in that same light. It was something to get lost in, those familiar motions of battle.

           Those familiar, comforting motions were lost with just a single touch.

           Something unknown and malevolent brushed against their hilt, sending pain through Kikoku like a bullet through a weak human. It was��� wrong. This shouldn’t happen unless it was something unnatural; a Devil Fruit. Rage ran through them, distracting them from what was happening to their body. Kiko located the perpetrator, raising a blade of their own and bringing it down against him. They relished in the feeling of skin and muscle separating under their deadly blade, blood and manic laughter filling the air. The man, the one behind their pain, fell with a shout of pain before the rest of his group grabbed him and retreated. Kikoku hadn’t even realized their own change until it was silent, realizing then that no one was holding them, that they were moving on their own.

           One look downwards told them everything they needed to know. Their body, it was different, it was human.

           Mix-matched eyes, one gold and the other lavender, took in their surroundings as the now-human slowly turned in place until their gaze found their wielder, the crew. Their expressions caused them to take a step back, nearly falling because of their lack of proper balance. The Heart Pirates, they looked… They looked terrified and unsure of what they were seeing. Even Law, even the one the sword was bonded to, looked unsure of them.

           “I…” The demon’s voice sounded off, not quite right to their own ears. A voice, they had a voice now. “What happened..?”

           If only there was someone who could give the answer…