Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters mentioned in this fanfiction, or any of their associated franchises. I'm doing this for funsies, so don't sue me.
Author's note: This is a short little one-shot nominally set after The Avengers, but technically outside any continuity. I thought the idea was hilarious, and had to write it down to get it out of my head. Enjoy!
Loki Laufeysson strolled down the corridor, a slight bounce to his step as his finely-crafted boots trod upon the institutional indoor-outdoor carpeting, the sort of floor-covering that seemed to be made of an unholy combination of polyester and coarse-grade sandpaper. He was dressed in his usual black-and-green armor, with the curved horns of his helmet arching wickedly back from his brow, as the acceptance note had said to "come as you are".
Well, if they insisted, then he bloody well would. He would come as the adopted bastard some of Asgard and Jotunheim, with all that implied. He would come as the would-be conqueror of planet Earth, whose plans were beaten down by a ragtag bunch of misfits who by right should have killed each other before trying to foil his plans.
Worse things had happened, though.
Much, much worse things had happened.
He suppressed the shiver that coursed down his spine, and to take his mind off such thoughts, he glanced again as the note. Room 305, it said. That was where the meeting would take place. Ordinarily he wouldn't lower himself to consorting with mere mortals, but these… these were special. They were like him, in many ways-schemers, plotters, conquerors, and so forth. But there was something very particular that they all had in common: They attracted fan-girls like black fabric attracted dog hair.
It wasn't that he wanted to be popular, exactly. He just wanted people to understand him. And this meeting, in theory, would get him well on the road to such a thing.
Even if the lot of them were lesser beings.
He smirked. He would show them what he was made of.
Loki drew level with a door marked with 305 in brass letters. Like all the doors in this place, this was was trying so hard to look like oak that its failure to do so was almost a shame. It was otherwise unadorned, so he walked right in.
The room beyond the door contained a horseshoe of chairs, each one filled save one. His green eyes scanned the occupants as they looked over at him. He recognized many of them-Jackson Rippner, Light Yagami, Jonathan Crane with his burlap mask, Patrick Bateman, Sasuke Uchiha, Erik Lensherr. There were women as well, though not as many-he recognized Misa Amane, Catherine Trammell, Satanica Pandemonium, Mystique, and at the center of it all, in a position that suggested that she was the moderator of this little gathering, a dark-haired woman in a firm-fitting black dress with an ouroboros tattoo just above the valley of her cleavage, sat the homunculus Lust.
"I trust I'm in the right place?" he asked, to be polite. "Room 305?"
"You're in the right place," Lust purred. "Have a seat."
Loki strolled over to the empty chair-just the one, he noticed, as though they were expecting him-and sat down. Light, in the next chair over, leaned over to him.
"First time in the group?" he asked.
Loki nodded. "I got the letter earlier this year."
"I got mine in 2006," Light replied, sitting back. "I think you'll like it here. You'd be surprised how many people there are like us."
Just then, Lust stood up, the motion causing her gown to move in interesting ways around her curves. Naturally, by the end of this process, all eyes were on her.
"Thank you all for coming to this month's meeting," she said, still in that voice that could make reading the phone book sound like the Song of Solomon. "As you can see, we have a new member joining us." She turned to Loki. "Loki, who don't you introduce yourself?"
Loki glanced around, suddenly edgy about this whole thing. He had resolved to attend one meeting, though, and it was quite a bit too late to back down now. All those eyes on him, though… the eyes of others like him. He was simultaneously reassured and uncertain-all of them had used their guild, their wits, their looks to pull off some of the most heinous deeds, and people still loved them.
Well. Might as well get on with it.
Loki stood up.
"My name is Loki Laufeysson," he said, "And I'm a Sexy Villain."
"Hi Loki," the others chorused back, and applauded. He felt a smile developing on his face.
Indeed, these were his people.