FOR ALL TIME, ALWAYS | prologue.
gif is from this glorious gifset by @crispychrissy
summary: loki finds an old love amongst the tva ranks. Well, a version of her. you. and you, oh, you're a lot more fun
a/n: lmao here i am with the beginning of a series 2 months late. hey sexy. anyway this is the set up to a variant tva!reader and loki that took me forever to write because have no idea whats going on at any given time. its very dialogue heavy, which is a new thing for me in my writing but hey! puff actually lets characters speak for once wow
CONTENT HEAVY SPOILERS FOR LOKI SEASON ONE
Loki never was one to turn down gifts. Prizes, offerings, he revelled in it all. Arguably, it led him down this path, the great chase of power that left him in chains. He admits to himself that he’s not skilled at holding himself back, but he doesn’t need to be. He’s a prince.
The tesseract is a glowing temptation. Landing at his feet like a side thought as everything else stirs around him, he’d laugh if he could.
Loki, prince of Asgard, had laid siege to New York, decimated its surroundings and damn near almost won- and here is where the Avengers fail. In the marble lobby of a building surrounded by the aftermath of chaos he orchestrated. They had fought valiantly, but this is where Loki is destined to make his Great Escape, leaving with the prize he was promised.
Sand. A desert. Why was he in a desert?
Fine sand tickling his lungs, he tries in vain to cough away the post-jump confusion. He willed himself away, but it was hard to determine where he was, or which planet he was on, given the sprawl of the dunes.
Quizzically, he meets the eye of a woman, standing over him with no threat, but confusion. A sense of pride and purpose fills him quickly, spilling out as he announces,
“I am Loki, of Asgard, and I am burdened with glorious purpose.”
His words do not incite the fear or worship he was going for - really, they just stand and stare with a gravitas nothingness between them. He was Loki, of Asgard, right? He looks himself over once or twice. Surely, not even the blood of fallen Chitauri soldiers had been wiped off his boots since the battle. His glorious purpose was that he was a threat, born to rule and born to be feared.
“чи хэн бэ?” The woman asked, “чи яагаад манай гэрт ирсэн юм бэ?”
Naturally, a language barrier.
A quick humming filled the air, and Loki’s eyes snapped the tesseract, buried in the golden sand. He thought for a second that it was inviting him, but that thought disappeared with the march of soldiers.
Orange isn’t really the TVA’s colour.
You’ve spent many a day toiling away in your little god-given cubicle, pondering the colour of the paint on the walls.
It wasn’t really orange. Tangerine, maybe? A soft, ‘I just vomited after eating boiled carrots’ kind of colour? You couldn’t decide, but that was hardly an issue. You had today, and tomorrow, and possibly until the end of time to ponder the question and procrastinate your paperwork.
“Look alive, partner!” Mobius veers over you, a loud concoction of cheerfulness and too much caffeine for this early in the morning, “Desk duty got you down?”
You pull yourself from your dead-eyed stare, “Here to gloat?”
Mobius, in every utter way imaginable, loves his job. Some days, you wonder if the time-keepers moulded him, built him to be their preacher. A perfect pastor for the designs of the TVA. Most days, however, you just wonder how he’s avoided getting clocked in the face for his golden-boy disposition.
With a coy little grin, he slides a file onto your desk. Weighty, with notes sticking out from the pages and loose papers dangling free. It’s the Loki List. Pages upon pages of every Laufeyson variant to grace these hallowed halls.
“Another variant was just rolled in.”
You scoff, “If you’re asking me to trail behind another dog-Loki with little plastic baggies then-”
“I’m not,” He stops you with a stern look, “Look, that loose variant case I’ve been working? I think a Loki is just what I need to crack this. I figured if you went down there and pried him from Renslayer’s iron clutches-” You laugh, albeit mockingly, “It’ll get you into the field.”
The offer is laced with temptation. He wants you to jump at it, and you almost do but -- Renslayer holds you back. You’re already in her bad books, chained to a desk on her command. If she doesn’t agree to let you essentially hijack her case…
Desk duty would be the least of your worries.
“Why do you need me to do it? Aren’t you buddies with Renslayer already?”
He hesitates, “I’ve called in one too many favours.”
“Oh, so I’m your stand-in?”
It dawns on you that you never really think things through, as you march down the maze of hallways to Courtroom B. What if Mobius was right? That a Loki variant was the key to solving his case. That would essentially mean freeing a variant against court order to what? Intern for the TVA?
You suppose you wouldn’t mind a Loki fetching you a coffee.
“Laufeyson. Variant L1130, AKA Loki Laufeyson, is charged with sequence violation 7-20-89.”
The man of the hour sucks in a breath.
Not because he’s scared. No, Loki, this Loki, the real Loki Laufeyson doesn’t feel fear. He’d been on trial before, many times in fact. Mainly for injuring Thor, and the only real punishment was a slap on the wrist, but that's beside the point. This woman, Judge Renslayer, is not imposing. None of this is. It’s simply a trick, he decides. This… land beyond time, tales of these all-knowing Gods, the time keepers. This is a bedtime story veiled like a threat.
Renslayer peers down at him from her seat up high. Routinely, she sifts through his paperwork, making him wait. Surely, she knows she’s testing his patience; “How do you plead?”
Loki snaps out of his ‘not-fear’, looking up at Renslayer with a sly smile, ‘Madame, a god does not plead,” He starts with confidence, “Look, this has been a very enjoyable pantomime, but I’d like to go home now.”
When you arrive, slipping into a pew of the courtroom as quietly as possible, Renslayer and the variant are trapping each other in an endless pointed argument of ‘fact vs lie’. Both of them believe they’re right, neither of them will concede.
You watch on briefly with interest.
“Well, perhaps I should speak to these ‘Time-Keepers, gods to gods.”
Renslayer smiles with a shallow apology, “I’m sorry, but they’re quite busy.”
“Oh, they are?” Loki mocks, “What are they doing?”
“Dictating the proper flow of time.”
“I see, right. And then what do you do?” It wasn’t a genuine question. None of his are. It was in a Loki’s nature to poke fun at authority.
“Dictate the proper flow of time according to their dictations,” You couldn’t believe it. This Loki variant was actually getting on Renslayer’s nerves, “How do you plead?”
The display that followed was quite an embarrassing one, albeit not uncommon for any magic-using variant. They desperately try to use the powers they’ve spent their lifetime cultivating in one last-ditch escape effort. It never works, and this Loki was throwing a temper tantrum like a magician who forgot to put the bunny in the hat.
You stifle a laugh, ducking your head in the pews. He looks back to find the source, but you don’t think he sees you.
Renslayer chuckles, her victory found in Loki’s upset, “Magic powers? They’re no good in the TVA, Mr Laufeyson. The court finds you guilty, and I sentence you to be reset.”
You watch as Loki is pulled to the side with a huff, and you stand, holding the files Mobius handed off to you as evidence close to your chest. You’re about to plead your case to a brick wall.
Renslayer spies you standing and nods you forward to the bench. You approach on quick feet, settling the papers on her desk.
“Agent,” She snipes, “What do you need?”
You look over at Loki, struggling against the binds of the power-heavy minute men. Something about being so close to a man pleading against death makes you actually want to help him. Weird.
“Actually, I’m here for the variant,” Before she begins to shut you down, you cut her off, “Mobius kinda… needs him for a case.”
“He’s busy?” She scoffs, “Look, I know you don’t trust me, especially after the incident, but Mobius does, and I trust his gut.” You open the file you slid onto her desk. It does little to spark her interest, but you persevere, “Someone’s killing our minute men, Mobius has an idea who, and he needs a Loki to crack it.”
The mention of his name sparks his interest in your little conversation.
And there you are. What an exciting little twist. Not one of which he understands much, but one in which he knows he can exploit.
Runa, a friend of Sif. Albeit clad in beige and sporting an accent unlike the ones of Asgard, but you all the same. Of how you came to be in the TVA, and be friendly with the judge are questions he’ll ask later. All he knows is that you’re planning on sneaking him out of here.
“And you’re just here demanding I put you back in the field?” Renslayer accuses in a whisper.
“If Mobius asked me, then he must need me for something-”
“Or he’s a coward who can’t fight his own battles,”
“Mobius is going to be running the whole operation, we’ll have minute men with us the whole time, Loki will never leave his time-warp collar,” You place your hand over your heart, smirking up at her, “And I solemnly swear I’ll do my best not to make a mess of things.”
She sighs, pressing her fingers to her temples. Now you understand why Mobius sent you on the impossible task. You’re good at wearing people down, “Fine.” She leans forward, burrowing her eyes into your head with a glare, “But if anything goes sideways, it’s on you.”
You gulp. You were truly excited by the prospect of going on a field mission, but you’re already in hot water with all the big guys, not just Renslayer. One mistake, and yeah, you’re toast.
You look over at Loki with a knowing glance. He smiles.
