Work Text:
“Your father is going to pull another deranged stunt in an attempt to gain admission to the Inner Circle. I'm not looking forward to it.” mutters Azazel, whilst picking stray bits of glitter off Megan's wings so that they're perfectly even. In exchange she straightens his non-existent tie. It's extremely cute, and would be even cuter if he didn't look like the devil. But at least that means he never needs to make an effort for fancy dress parties. Neither does Megan.
It's Christmas Eve, Disney Christmas Eve, which is somewhat different to regular Christmas Eve. For one, it takes place in Disneyland, the most magical, happy, and expensive place on earth. For another, there are people involved who are dressed up as cartoons dressed up as Christmas decorations. Thirdly, Mastermind will be attending. Mastermind and his pair of emo daughters. Plus Megan, the odd one out, on the surface at least.
But Megan is the property of Beelzebub, so she can't be compelled to perform like her sisters can. Still, that doesn't mean something silly or creepy won't occur.
“Here, my bag of tricks. Pick one, dear.” Mastermind offers his prettiest daughter his bag of tricks, the family group sitting in a booth in the fanciest restaurant in Disneyland.
Mastermind, he's not the worst father-in-law in the world, supposes Azazel, sitting opposite the man, his arm thrown behind Megan, his pose leisurely and debonair while all around him living snowmen amble about, doing stupid dances. Jason pays, he doesn't attempt to give stupid advice, he doesn't attempt to bond with his son-in-law. His worst crime is his continuous yammering for a grandchild. A granddaughter, because apparently he's a simp.
“Stocking of tricks, you mean, Dad.” says Megan, rooting around in the stocking. Her goth sisters stare at her from the other side of the table, both of them older, but not inherently darker. It's a very odd picture the mutants make, which is why they're left alone by the majority of the Disney mascots.
“Aww, is this an anti mind-reading hat like what Magneto has? I really need one.” Megan shoots a sly glance at her hubby, a pink knitted cap in her hands.
One sister elbows the other, much harder than necessary. “I told you an anti mind-reader was a good idea.”
“You also told me you were smart.”
“Pretend it is such a thing, dear.” says Mastermind, waving a cigar about despite the entire restaurant being a no smoking zone.
“What's the catch?” drawls Azazel, his eyelids half lowered, his tail lazily flipping back and forth.
“Catch?”
“Where's the trick? When are you going to unleash an alien on the premises? When are you going to burn my favourite throne down? Don't think I've forgotten, Jason.”
“Unlike some, I would never play a trick on my own daughter, son.”
Azazel’s tail ceases waving. For a supervillain Mastermind is very mild, but calling him ‘son’ is a mortal blow every time.
Fake snow blasts around the restaurant and Minnie Mouse urges Megan to come dance, much to Azazel's horror. He beat Mrs Mouse's husband in a duel a few days ago and expects retribution.
“Darling, let us dance.” Mastermind takes on his handsome, 6”2 form, doing so by molesting everyone's minds, including Azazel's.
“Don't you wish you were a shapeshifter rather than an illusion projector?” asks his son-in-law, shapeshifting into Sebastian Shaw.
His intimidation attempt has an unintended, negative side effect. “Eww!” squeals Megan, furiouly shaking him off her like he's an ugly caterpillar, going to hide behind her father and cackling sisters.
“I'm not really Shaw, dear. I simply look like him.”
“Don't!!”
Mastermind's diabolical scheme truly is diabolical, and not just accidentally so. He dredged up from England the worst plague to ever blight the land.
“Morris dancing!” he shouts, flinging his arms wide, his feet beginning to move insanely, Martinique and Regan already dancing with Scrooge and Tarzan behind his back.
“Nyet!!” Azazel, terrified for his wife's moral integrity and shrieking like all the legions of hell have turned on him, snatches hold of her with his tail and teleports across the country, dropping her off at home before teleporting back to Los Angeles, directly into the actual Hellfire Club, where he demands of the actual Shaw that Mastermind be forever blacklisted.