Mild Trigun Oneshots

Masquerade (Knives x GN!Reader)

Plot: You find yourself swept away into the world of fairy tales with gilded halls and foreign music. The one and only partner there is the man you've been locked in a deadly dance with many times before.

Tags: Enemies to lovers, dancing, masquerade, a wonky world, dream sequence, royalcore

Author's Note: This will be part of the enemies to lovers series I am working on. You can find another sneaky peek in the oneshot Sanctuary.

***

Orchestral music echoes through the massive halls, beckoning you closer. You feel the vibrations in your chest as you step forward, the flowing robes behind you whispering against the marble floor. Your gaze travels over the high walls, inspecting the intricate carvings and paintings that adorn every inch. Roses and lilies grace each corner, filling the air with a sweet, intoxicating scent. The atmosphere is filled with a sense of grandeur and history, making you feel small in comparison to the majestic surroundings. The anticipation builds as you approach the source of the melody.

At the end of the hallway, you find massive doors, but nobody else is there to stand guard or welcome guests. You look around again to see that not a single other soul is anywhere near. Your eyes meet with your own in a polished golden mirror, and you step closer. The reflection shows you the intricate mask you hide behind. It consists of entangled, dainty vines delicately wrapping around each other, creating a beautiful yet haunting image of a moth, their wings reaching out past your temples. More thorny vines decorate your head, weaving through your hair like a crown and coming down to wrap around your neck like a noose before creeping down your chest. The vines are like serpents as they coil around your body, tightening again around your waist, where they hold together the silken robe dyed in a dark burgundy red. The fabric is soft against your skin, a stark contrast to the tight grip of the vines, keeping you on edge.

For a moment longer, your eyes take in the sight in the mirror before you turn away towards the door again, unaware that your reflection keeps their eyes on you. A wicked grin appears on their lips as they see you walk away. It feels like the hallway leading up to the doors shortens, bringing the entryway towards you. The music echoes through your body, enveloping you in its haunting melody. As you reach out your hand to push open the door, the two sides move away from your touch. The view into the massive, gilded ballroom is breathtaking and overwhelming, with chandeliers sparkling from the high ceiling. The floor is polished to the point that it reflects the dazzling lights above. The blinding splendor stops you in your tracks as you take in the ornate details of the intricate roof, walls, and columns that surround you. No matter how hard you look, you can't find the source of the music that fills the room; in fact, you can't find anyone at all in this grand space. Anyone but him.

Millions Knives stands in the center of the room, underneath the largest of the chandeliers, his eyes fixed on you. He wears a magnificent white suit, the vest underneath is adorned with a light blue pattern of swirling lines that seems to shift and shimmer as he moves. His stance shifts to turn more towards you; the heavy jacket is to his knees, held together in the front by two silver chains. He wears a large mask decorated with feathers. It hides his whole face, but his presence is unmistakable regardless. The eyes behind the mask seem to pierce right through you, but you can't tell what expression he is hiding. The man's aura is both intimidating and alluring at the same time—something you really don't want to admit to yourself.

He walks towards you, the light shifting on his gown, revealing the motif of blooming flowers that's pressed into the velvet of his jacket. He reaches the stairs that lead up to you and stops, his right hand reaching up towards you as if inviting you to take it. You hesitate, unsure of how to respond, but start heading down the stairs, careful not to step on the delicate fabric of your costume. You finally reach the bottom and turn to face him, careful to keep your head high and your expression neutral, afraid to give him any cards to play against you. Knives bows, his right hand waiting for yours, the left behind his back. The point of all this alludes you, but you're not one to back down either, so you place your hand in his and feel the soft grip of Knives's fingers as he straightens up again. He doesn't say a word as he starts leading you back into the center of the large ballroom, to the emblem on the floor.

You watch carefully as he lets go of your hand, turns towards you, and gives another little bow. The music from the invisible orchestra changes to a slower waltz. Your eyes don't stray from him as you start to encircle each other. His left hand remains behind his back as he takes long strides matching your own. The tension between you two is tangible as you both move in perfect synchrony, and the atmosphere around you seems to shift with each step as your eyes remain locked on each other's. The dance feels like a silent conversation, full of unspoken words and hidden meanings. You turn to circle each other counterclockwise; this time, your right arms extend gracefully to have your wrists hover just inches apart. The performance is effortless; it's as if you've been dancing together for years. And in a way, it is true. The times you have avoided his blades have taught you when to duck away from him, and his escapes from your deadly touch have made him weary of your being. You have been practicing this intricate dance of life and death for what feels like an eternity. Circling each other, waiting for the moment to claim victory once and for all, moving in perfect synchrony.

Another shift in the melody has you turn once again to move clockwise; his hand grabs your waist and yours his shoulder, both leaning away from the other. The music swells as he twirls you around, your free hand holding the silks of your gown in a torrent of blood red fabric. The dance floor spins beneath your feet, and for a moment, the entire world disappears. It is just you and him in the deadly waltz, chasing each other across the floor with precision and grace. He spins you again, taking the hand from behind his back to capture your leg and lean you back in a dramatic and breathtaking flourish.

What is the point of a masquerade if you're the only ones there? The idea is lost when the only masks are the ones you wear to fool yourselves. You know it is him, and he knows it is you. There is no mystery, no intrigue, just a sad charade of pretending. You reach out your hand that isn't gripping his shoulder to pull away the feathered mask from his face, which is so close to yours, only to reveal another one, this one more unsettling than the last. Cracking white porcelain, painted with a grotesque smile that seems frozen in agony.

He lifts you up again, sweeping you away into another grandiose waltz, the music swirling around you both as you try to make sense of the masks that never seem to come off. The dance continues, a dizzying display of false identities and hidden truths. You make laps around the hall as you dance in circles, the sound of your own heart pounding in your ears. Your bodies move closer together. As his large hand on your back pulls you against his body, you take the chance to pull the mask away from him, but there is another one. This time it is smaller, not covering his entire face, and you can see his sharp nose and his pale lips that are pressed into a line. His eyes are staring right into yours, filled with a mix of emotions you can't quite place. The white lace that forms his mask depicts flowers similar to those on his jacket, woven and delicate.

As you continue to dance, the music fades into the background, and all you can focus on is the intensity of his gaze. He leads you effortlessly through the hall even as the melodies die out, leaving just the two of you and your footsteps that echo through the empty room. Your right hand is in Knives's; his is pulling you closer by your waist. He dips you low before bringing you back up and continuing with the long strides across the dance floor. The room seems to spin, and you feel a rush of excitement and exhilaration with each step. It feels less like chasing him around than following him. Without a single word, he leads you through the unknown.

Knives leans you into another dip, his grip strong and secure. You feel his breath on your face as you reach out to remove what seems to be the last mask, but his hand grabs your wrist before you can touch his face. He looks at you for a moment, his lips twitching with something that could be a smile. He lets your hand slide into his to grip your fingers and bring them to his lips. A gentle brush of his mouth against the back of your hand before he pulls you up, leading you straight into a spin where you twirl around. His hands let go, and once you're steady on your feet, you see him walking away. The white suit jacket is pillowing behind him like a cape as he heads out, abandoning you.

The music slowly returns to fill the empty hall, but it does not feel the same as before, now that he is gone. You reach up to touch your face, expecting your fingers to meet with the metal of your mask, only to find that it had fallen at some point during your dance.