This is for the dramatic but short one shot fanfic lovers out there! Can be either interpreted as a reader fic or oc x canon fic.
7 years ago
It had been a simple yet elegant gala hosted by Maestro, quite uncommon for the classical overlord. However, it was still welcome as most overlords and other demons of powerful statuses were also in attendance. The invitations were typical but rather conditional as there was a dress code and a deal imposed through the invite, “Thou must agree to stay long enough to witness the guest of honor.” The deal duration was inscribed to last for 4 hours as the event was going to last until late into the early morning hours. And so, each individual had agreed as the promise of a mysterious guest of honor intrigued them all.
Alastor had arrived alongside his good friend, Rosie. The two were punctual and awaited the black iron gates to open as more of hell’s renowned overlords, kingpins, and even hellborn nobility, even the royal family had decided to attend but the deal in the invitation didn’t apply to them since it would be ill suited to chain the first fallen angel, the first woman and princess of hell to the venue. Alastor even spotted his acquaintance and investment, Vincent, amongst the crowd, giving the tv headed demon a small smile as a way of returning the very enthusiastic wave the CRT gave him before he began to converse with his fellow overlords while at the same time, avoiding the snide glances of some of the particular hellborn royalty, more specifically, the few members of the Ars Goetia. They were known for their immense power and knowledge over many concepts and even the cosmos, but it was nothing compared to the way they looked down on sinners and the lower class like the hellhounds and imps in particular, much more so than the succubi and incubi who work under the sin of lust, Asmodeus.
The venue itself was grand, although quite dimly lit with candelabra and multiple hanging chandeliers that also sported the same candles on the ground that burned with an uncanny, pale blue flame. One couldn’t deny the dark elegance it held. The supporting pillars were a polished black, almost a kin to obsidian if it weren’t for the touches of white, that speckled the pillars, like flowers or snowflakes. The floor was waxed and polished to perfection and seemed to shimmer in the right angle and lighting, glossy enough to almost mimic the surface of clear water. The ceiling rose into a glorious kaleidoscope of a stained glass dome in a dark gradient of pieces of glass as the perpetually, warm, red light shone in through to contrast the piercing blue of candle flames.
Although faint, it was subtle in the right way as the mild tension in the room grew as the party went on, guests either stood or sat, but they all held and single flute of champagne between their claws and hellish talons. They conversed just about anything worth mentioning or bragging about: newly gained territory, more souls under jurisdiction and obligation, preparations for the next extermination as the date draws near, and more drama like episodes from a soap opera with character arcs. And even elevation of new demons to overlord status.
Alastor had been conversing with Rosie about their own engagements when a soft breeze and a white vulpine mask with blood red markings appeared in his peripherals. Soon a tall, thin but curvy body came into view with the mask, followed by long, raven locks that draped over fairly covered shoulders and nearly reached the floor like a long veil. Large, triangular, white fox ears sat upon the individual’s head as they were adorned with what appeared to be red ribbons or flowers with the stamens spread out from the sides of their head like antennae or blood soaked ornaments. From the body shape alone, he could determine the demon to be female. She wore a dark violet kimono that allowed a small peak of cleavage atop her chest, it was secured with a dark grey obi or belt as the rest of it pooled around her ghostly silent strides. The finishing garment was the loose dark plum and violet red brocade that hung off her shoulders, the borders bearing the same color that shone like silk.
From this sole silence, the other guests turned to gawk at the mysterious stranger who caused the most chatty of the overlords to stop talking. They too fell into what seemed like a plague of a trance as the pale vulpine made her way across the ballroom to the single flight of stairs that led up to the center of the second level of the venue, right where Maestro stood, waiting to greet the fox.
That’s when it clicked in every demon’s head, SHE was their guest of honor. However, there was no telling whether she was a sinner or hellborn nobility due to the mask. Though, her being a sinner wasn’t far off.
Everyone waited with baited breath for her introduction but there were no words, only the heavy sound of silence. She only gestured with the closed fan she held between her dominant hand, it was a welcome gesture as the others anticipated while a few silently scoffed. Afterwards, her gestures were interpreted as her way of saying thanks for welcoming her to the higher ranks of hell amongst the overlords. Especially the more proper ones who hoped to be great acquaintances and not future enemies. Some were frustrated at her lack of speaking or selective mutism while a few were surprisingly understanding. The royal family had arrived not long after her arrival as well, the presence of the morningstars were nothing short of a shocking and humbling experience, although the king preferred to sit back with his daughter while Queen Lilith, personally congratulated the young lady for achieving her position, making it clear she knew the fox for a while given the look of fondness despite her own serenely disarming smile. They soon dispersed to truly enjoy the tame festivities.
However, the vulpine did not take to conversation immediately given her silence.
What made it especially hard to read her was the mask that blended seamlessly with her hair but, animalistic ears never lie. They were alert, always swiveling around for either potential threats, victims, over even allies. Those two white sensory organs weren’t just for decorum, they hear everything.
That’s the culture of hell’s sovereignty, only the strongest know to flaunt their power with caution lest they lose their hand in the game of politics. Alastor knew this and when to time his words, reactions, and his own actions. It was nearly a carbon copy of the power hierarchy back when he was alive except that skin color was thankfully not a deciding factor for who got to be in power. Although, seeing a woman in power was a very rare occurrence to see without her having to please or cater to a man’s whims to scale the power ladder. He had never so much as seen nor heard about her in hell as she had no name nor title to trace back to her, much less given it out, a smart one she is. Her fashion choices were clearly…not of modern day fashion, they appeared almost medieval or even imperial style given the silken sleeves. Compared to his own tailored suit, they looked simple yet complex to possibly put on. He observed her from afar once he and Rosie separated from their conversation.
His own cursed ears flickered as he listened to the other higher demons converse but, his main target was the fledgling overlord who seemed to blend in with the darkness of the dimly lit ballroom, whose candles were halfway burned through their charred wicks. However, he did catch pertinent information from a similar looking demon who appeared to share similar fashion as the fox.
They were an overlord who appeared to be of Eastern Asian heritage unknowingly gave the fox her unofficial nickname, The Kabuki Demon. They explained it as broadly as possible to the others as the word spread throughout the venue; she is a Japanese classical theatre overlord and she would essentially share a domain with Maestro given he is the Classical music overlord and both are known to perform on stage in theaters or even an opera house. They weren’t considered friends nor enemies but, simply colleagues.
He had soon caught up to her once she has decided to hide her presence away, but she wouldn’t get away that easily. He found her back towards him in one of the corridors that led to one of the inner flights of stairs to the second level of the ballroom. Not before her ears swiveled towards the click of his footsteps on polished marble, her masked visage was soon at eye level with his, painted goldenrod slits met his vermilion irises, she seemed to be his height by a few inches if he weren’t wearing his shoes at the moment. He was briefly caught off guard at the speed of which she could have possibly turned heel and be right in front of him. He composed himself and she backed away as her left ear was angled towards the sound of him exhaling as he put on his best grin, a mere golden mask of sharpened daggers that seemed to match the scarlet grin on the fox’s mask.
She tilted her head at him before pulling out her fan and flicking it open and holding it to her masked face. Alastor’s eyes widened as though he either anticipated this encounter or not, however, he would begrudgingly thank Rosie later for her lessons in fan language. The fox bowed as her greeting just like she did hours ago and began a slow fanning motion, indicating her composed interest in the deer demon’s interest in.
“It is quite the pleasure to meet another fellow overlord with manners, quite a pleasure, my dear. The name is Alastor. Do forgive my sudden appearance but I couldn’t help but notice you are quite the elusive one amongst the others, could this not be your preferred scene?”
The fox shook her head, her ears flattening ever so slightly as they indicated her answer to his question. Words were clearly not necessary for this woman at all, that was perfectly fine with Alastor. Why need words when the body cannot lie, right?
“I see, well, if I may, my lady, may I request you to follow me?” Alastor held out his hand to her with the other behind his back in a gentlemanly manner as he bent forward, he wondered how she would answer or react to his gesture. Would she respond with her fan or her body?
The fox paused as she tilted her head toward his outstretched hand and then to his perpetual grin. There was a long silence before she tentatively settled her free hand in his palm, her claws were prominent but not sharp enough to cut if she wanted to. However, her hands were as cold as a corpse, perhaps this explained the cold spot he felt earlier during her arrival. He leaned forward more to press a chaste kiss to her knuckles with a smirk, her reaction was quite something.
Not that she didn’t react, she simply lifted her fan a little higher as if she were hiding her real face in embarrassment, but he felt the subtle jolt of her flinching beneath his lips. She may be a demon overlord clad in the skin of a fox and a noblewoman but she was still a young woman at heart, susceptible to the charms of an attractive man. If that mask and fan weren’t in the way, she most likely would’ve been flushed from the gesture as he allowed her a moment to compose herself before he led her out to the empty dance floor.
Alastor stopped short of the edge of the area where the other demons conversed. He then turned to the fox, bending forward with the same gesture as before, holding a single gloved hand out with an elegant flourish, being the gentleman he is to the debutante overlord. “Would you allow me the honor of being your first dance of the night, my dear?” His voice a silken invite to the fox’s ears as they briefly pinned back before perking up to keep her composure despite her hesitation to take his hand, she had never danced before. However, there’s a first time for everything, right? Her small and delicate, clawed, black hand reached to take its place in Alastor’s open palm. Giving him a firm yet gentle grip as she allowed him to maneuver her into the right position of a waltz while the band had started up a slow yet sensual rondo.
He led her with 4 back steps onto the dance clearing as she followed suit. The others stared, let them. After all, it was the first dance of the night and they were the very center of their attention. The deer and the fox circled each other, no words were needed, only eye contact as their silent language. Their first engagement of the night.
He let her circle him as he rotated on his heels in place before drawing her in, she followed his lead, letting gravity and grace guide her inexperienced self as her mask kept its ceramic gaze on him while her real eyes were focused on her feet. She never had a proper waltz but this was going well.
The two overlords swayed together, while in opposite directions, they remained in a mirrored synchronization of their movements. He slowly twirled her before pulling her in a dip in the other direction. The dance continues as the world fades away and it seems like only they are in the other’s presence. He then circles her as she mimics his earlier movements except she stood in place while she rotated before allowing herself to be twirled again and this time outward until she was at arm’s length.
Alastor then bends to one knee as he seemingly slips the fox’s sleeve up a touch to reveal her blackened, clawed hands, allowing his lips to briefly brush against her knuckles as she then turns her palm up in a seemingly surprised or playful expression, how infuriating to hide such potential for the sole purpose of portraying a mysterious, terrifying yet powerful hand in this game of lies, fools, and fragile egos.
Her, on the other hand, had experienced but the smallest fraction of power of what the Radio Demon held in his grasp, a small static buzz that ran up her arm in a faint yet noticeable blur of black and glowing green. It soon met a small resistance of a power of a similar caliber but much more subtle. I seemed colorless but there was a tint of violet to it.
They soon joined once again, bodies flush to each other as their feet took them across the polished floor in a half curve while they spun together. Once more, another twirl initiated by Alastor as he watched her with amusement and what appeared to be growing interest when she stopped at arm length again. Then, allowing each other circle one another for a few seconds, staring the other down like they were hunters sizing up the other. They join their hands again, ebony and burgundy with scarlet fingertips curling around each other’s digits as they join again in a position them at would be considered far too intimate for two individuals who have just met and he dips her again, briefly as she hooks a leg onto his narrow hips before retracting it. Then, he brings her back up just as smoothly.
‘I want to know what she is,’ he thinks as he continues the dance.
They keep at it with Alastor mostly spinning the fox in different but smooth directions for a few times before bringing her in for a long spin together before he voices his burning question in a voice that only she could hear.
“What are you, mon dame renard?”
…
The music seemed to pause..
This would be the only time he heard her voice all those years ago. Just as jarring, but feminine and unsettlingly soft yet they carried a heavy weight.
“Excuse me, are you asking me..?”
It is then that the music takes a sudden turn as the fox then takes the lead without warning. She soon places one hand so briefly on his cheek as he had gotten much closer to him that the nose of her mask nearly touched his before she turns him around before seeming to roughly brush his sleeved arms of nonexistent debris. Wisps of something dark emitted from her rough treatment of him compared to how gentle he was with her earlier, her demeanor had taken a complete shift from seemingly deceptively meek and gentle to a more haunting and oppressive manner. She had kept at her movements before she seemed to force him to bend backwards as his antlers had seemingly erupted from his skull unexpectedly. He swore he heard a higher pitch violin reaching a crescendo.
Now, the fox had him in a dip when he seemed to shift to his shadow form out of his control. He only seemed to move to a short distance before the fox soon appeared right in front of him again at a frightening speed. The once relaxed and cheerful atmosphere was gone and replaced with an oppressive vermilion mist like smokescreen that seemed to infect his perception. He was forced into a rigid and non mutual version of their dance, she spun him with a similar approach like he did but it was in the fox’s control as he willed himself to break away but she would not allow it.
What was this?
The second she loosened her grip, he fled to the shadows but she followed in a similar manner but she wasn’t enveloped in them, they reached past her like physical tendrils, as not one, not two, three, but six tails manifested from behind her and they surged forward, towards him.
He couldn’t help but be in awe before feeling his limbs being wrapped around by soft yet firm restraints, they held him a few inches off the ground while the fox grew closer at a torturously slow pace. Yet his perception could only struggle to distinguish between reality and insanity. This wasn’t right, why weren’t his powers obeying him while this fledgling overlord was besting him on a dance floor right in front of her guests…wait? He was still at the gathering! And yet, where were they within all this madness of scarlet mist while his mind or rather, this damned fox played literal mind games on his eyes as she humiliated him in her eyes, for her own entertainment?!
He had been caught completely unaware, this may had been a soirée for a new overlord but this was still Hell. Civility could disappear in the blink of an eye, and it just did right before him. His scarlet eyes darted around but all there was, was crimson and vermilion swirling in his vision like vertigo manifested into his being. He felt dizziness overtake his overwhelmed psyche and the violins reach their final crescendo before his eyelids drooped before he came to in a sudden dip and there was the fox, her mask just inches from his face while she had perfect balance and her free arm up in a gesture of flair. The music had stopped as it reached the end of its score, the band, the guests, and their host all stared in shock at the two having switched their positions, no one dared to breathe a single word in the charged moment.
The first clap resounded that broke through the silence coming from two pairs of hands, one with delicate, black manicured nails, the other being navy blue with bright teal claws as the energy soon turned to applause within the now brightened ballroom.
Alastor on the other hand was floored and his head spinning from the events that had just transpired between him and the vixen overlord. His grin had faltered just a little but he was trying to keep his frazzled nerves from showing since it appeared that the high ranking guests didn’t see the whole ordeal go down. The fox soon allowed him to stand up fully as she sensed his discomfort and stiffened posture. She then backed up a few steps before finally giving him a mix of a bow and curtsy, her show of gratitude confused him even more as he was still getting his thoughts together.
He then hears something, a soft but melodic chuckle from the masked fox. His ears twitched and angled themselves towards the sound.
He bristled at how she was so calm after what she put him through during the climax of their dance. And yet, it only served to raise more questions about her. He soon thanked her for allowing him to be her first dance of the night as her debut to the overlord ranks. He takes her hand gently and places a kiss to her knuckles, a callback to his earlier performance but this time, his lips lingered as he felt that hum of power from earlier. It wasn’t just that, it simply, insulated or dismissed his attempt at feeling her magic.
No matter, there was low chance they may see each other again due to his tv headed companion and his… owner taking his attention. But, this vixen had essentially ensnared his interest, especially with that mask of hers. Sooner or later, he’ll find out who and what she is. And her siren call of the single line that she uttered to him clear as day, daring him to dive deeper into her little party trick.
However, as of tonight, he had stared too far into her abyss, he had opened a tear but she made it a rift and hid his exit until she had her fill of what it was she wanted from him and let him go free.
Little did he know, was that it would be a good long while before that masked gaze sets her sights on him again..
This time, she would allow him to lead the entire dance should he dare ask her decades later again…
