Later that evening, with Lucifer out of the palace and the entire place quiet and calm, the maroon sky of Hell setting in a dreamy overcast sky of shades of red, preparing for the oncoming twilight, you decided to personally greet Vox at the palace gates.
You folded your hands behind you back, wearing a reserved smile as you approached the tall iron gates with the Morningstar crest upon them, clicking a few buttons to unlock the gates. They creaked and groaned open, revealing a sleek black VoxTech vehicle grumbling outside the gates. The passenger door opened, and the infamous Vox himself left the car, shutting the door behind him and saying a few words to the driver before he backed out of the driveway and drove off.
You met Vox's haughty gaze, and watched him with peaked interest as he approached you waiting at the foot of the gates. Your eyes scanned down his body: sleek navy and electric blue suit with a crimson bow tie, a top hat on resting on the top of his screen. A duffel bag over his shoulder.
Curious, you thought, eyes befalling the duffel bag he carried. What was that for?
"Hello, Vox," you simpered when he came close enough. He stepped through the threshold and you pressed a few buttons on the panel to the side, causing the doors to groan as they came to shut. You began walking with Vox by your side towards the large doors of the regal palace.
"Good evening, Your Grace," he grinned, readjusting his red bow tie. You scrutinized him, observing his body language — he walked in short steps with pulled-back shoulders and a straight back, and he always seemed to be looking up. He had the walk of somebody unnervingly certain of themselves and confident they had all of the time in the world to achieve whatever they desired.
Your eyes narrowed upon him and your smile widened. He was entirely overconfident and you could most definitely infer he expected to get something out of this meeting that would propel his eventual success forward, whatever that success he hopes to achieve may be. The memories of the rumors you had heard flashed through your brain. Perhaps crushing the more powerful competition in Hell with his widespread media? Using his interview with you and manipulating your words to strengthen his cause? Just exactly what kind of power over those superior to him is Vox searching for...?
"I'm looking forward to my interview," you said, making conversation as you approached the doors of the palace. You opened the door and kindly stepped through, holding the door open for Vox as he nodded in appreciation and walked inside, his suede shoes clicking against the marble floors of the foyer. "I don't meet with Overlords often, so consider yourself blessed."
An irritated expression betrayed Vox's cool and confident persona, and you caught it just before it vanished. He cleared his throat.
"Very blessed, you mean," he grinned, the action a little strained as you shut the large door behind him, sending echoed through the foyer as you led him through the entrance of the palace to the main steps. "I'm honored to be here today. A friend in cahoots with the King offered me his contact and I inquired if it would be possible for me to pay you a little visit."
"If I knew a respectable Overlord such as yourself wished to meet with me," you said, your deep, domineering, yet feminine voice echoing in the ballroom as you led Vox up the stairs, "you should have just contacted me yourself. I'm sure our interaction over the phone would have been... delightful."
"In my defense," Vox began smoothly, smiling as he followed you a step behind up the winding stairs, "not many people in Hell have your contact, Your Grace. I just so happened to have an acquaintance that had His Majesty's, so here I am. Forgive me, though, for any feelings of... irrelevance... you may have."
Your eyes twitched. Irrelevance? Oh, he knew what he was doing when he put it like that. Stupid motherfucker... Does he not know who he is talking to?
Maybe you should remind him by putting a little pressure on him.
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Masochism Tango | Alastor & Lucifer & Vox
Fanfiction"I ache for the touch of your lips, dear, but much more for the touch of your whips dear." ༒︎ When Lucifer fell, he wasn't alone. [Y/N] Pyrebloom, a fellow seraphim, was by his side, swayed by his ideas and knowledge and when presented with Heaven's...
