When Loki Met Crowley (A Crack-Fic)
"Who the blazes are you?"
"Funny, I was about to ask you that same question."
"I am Loki. God of mischief and lies. And who are you to address me with so evident a lack of deference?"
"Name's Crowley, King of Hell. Love the leather, by the way."
"I was not aware the realm of Hel had a king. And thank you. Love the suit."
"Different Hell, mate. And thanks."
"Interesting…"
Emerald eyes flashed upon eyes the color of scotch under a table lamp, both pairs assessing and sizing up their respective owners. Loki, owner of the emerald glazzies, was pacing back and forth in his leather jerkin in front of Crowley, who stood still with his hands in his pockets. Crowley wore an expensive black suit beneath his jet trench coat, which stopped just above his knees, and an amused smirk. "So, which Hell are you king of exactly?"
"You ever heard of the Christian Hell? Lake of fire? All that business?"
"Yes, though I thought that the so-called Devil ruled there…"
"He sort of did. Well, his followers sort of did. It's complicated. Long story short: there was a change in management not too long ago, and a good businessman doesn't miss out on that kind of opportunity."
"I see…So, what brings you here, Crowley, King of Hell?" Loki's cold eyes probed Crowley's expression like a snake preparing to strike at the first misplaced twitch.
Crowley looked around the eerily quiet, dusty clearing, glancing up at the two suns in the lilac tinted sky. The vegetation was unnaturally still and looked pre-historic. Crowley scoffed.
"I suspect it's the same reason that brought you here, mate. I mean, why else come to the center of the Earth? The power source that's stashed here. It took a few dozen demons and a lot of screaming and blood for me to find this place." Crowley looked at Loki through narrowed eyes.
"You wouldn't be wrong," Loki said, pausing and returning Crowley's gaze with one equally scrutinizing. "That might put us in an awkward position. One that involves me peeling the flesh from your body slowly, strip-by-strip."
Crowley gave a startled chuckle and held up a hand, as if to placate Loki. "Now, now, no need to be testy. We don't necessarily have to be enemies. I wanted the power source for leverage against certain individuals who aren't exactly fond of me, but situations, like the one we're in, lend themselves to a certain degree of…fluidity." Loki smirked.
"How is that then?"
"Well, that depends. Why are you seeking the power source?"
"To harness it and give the human race the God they so desperately need. Those mewling quims were born to be subjugated, and I'm going to prove it to them," Loki replied, venom seeping into his words.
"Ah, now, see—that I can work with…"
"What did you have in mind?"
"A deal, mate. I like deals. They're kind of my thing," said Crowley with a wry grin. "We join forces to find the power source here. You use it to take over the world—with my help, of course."
"What's in it for you?"
"I help you keep control over the humans, using my demon lackeys, and in return, we get a steady supply of humans for our various purposes and the freedom to make deals whenever we want. Sound fair?" The God of mischief and lies looked Crowley over suspiciously, taking a cautious step towards him.
"You have a deal, Crowley," Loki said, feigning holding his hand out, only to rescind it before Crowley could take it. "But know that if you attempt to cross me, I will turn your meat suit into a throw rug for my throne-room." He held it out again.
"Alright, then. Deal," Crowley said, shaking Loki's hand. "Though usually my deals are sealed with a slightly more 'personal' gesture…" Crowley leered at him, and Loki ripped his hand away forcefully.
"Don't push it."
"Old habits die hard. Besides, have you seen you? Can't blame a bloke for trying." Loki grimaced at that.
"Let's just get moving," the God said, abruptly turning away and walking towards the thickly foliaged forest.
"After you," Crowley replied, simpering as he followed behind Loki.
I'll be honest, I feel bad for planet Earth…But I still love these two evil kooks. Don't you?