I've been working on this comic since my last post. I'm still not happy with some parts of the paneling, but I hope that doesn't affect understanding the continuity of the plot.
I took some inspiration from the song Promise by Laufey, especially the lyrics of the chorus and the bridge.
I will be pursuing two different plots for the same prompt because I couldn’t decide if I wanted fluffy silliness or darkness.
This one is the softer, fluffier and sillier one but remember they’re in Hell for a reason and are still very manipulative and opportunistic.
Vox finds Alastor in his human form and they come to an understanding so he doesn’t broadcast his current state to the Pride Ring.
Tagging @diffidentphantom because you expressed interest
Ch. 1 Dropping In Unannounced
Once Vox learns that Alastor has come back, he keeps a close eye on him, and Alastor will never be anything as boring as predictable. Given that he has cameras all over the Ring, Vox doesn’t have a shortage of sightings until the day he goes without catching Alastor once.
It’s fine, he’s a slippery fuck. If he wants to irritate Vox by disappearing for a bit, he can.
The bastard is probably just trying to get his attention again.
Have a good laugh at his expense by watching Vox look for him. Vox isn’t falling for it this time. He is much too high profile now to traverse all over the Pride Ring looking for Alastor. When the second day passes, he buries himself in his work. When the third day nears, Vox scours all his cameras. By the afternoon of the fourth day, he is determined to find the stupid deer. If for no other reason than to set his mind free of him.
It isn’t that he’s worried; why would he be worried because the person he had been deeply emotionally attached to disappeared once and now might again be gone?
At least this time, he knows that multiple people have seen Alastor recently; someone will learn something.
Vox zaps himself over to the camera closest to the Hotel. It is still early in the day. Vox forced himself to finish most of his work before coming over, but it isn’t even dinner time yet.
Vox doesn’t knock when he arrives, and he will not give anyone advance warning if he can help. The lobby is empty, and he closes the door behind him.
The place seems nicer than what stood here before the extermination. It looks a bit gaudy for his taste, but everything is in working order. Vox listens hard and hears music he recognizes, but the scent of his cooking lures him to the kitchen.
There is no mistaking the scent of it.
Vox hasn’t had anything as good as Alastor’s cooking, not since their friendship went sour when he tried to take things further.
Vox had berated himself for wanting more, but what was a man supposed to do when you found someone attractive who matched your drive and energy and could cook the best food you had ever had in either plane of existence?
Vox follows his scent sensors to a door further in the first floor.
“Found you, you fucking reclusive prick,” Vox mutters to himself. He just needs to catch a glimpse of the skinny bastard; he doesn’t need to talk to him. However, when peers in, he sees nothing, so he takes a step and
Vox turns his screen to look.
He finds himself moving into the kitchen without consciously deciding to do so.
Alastor is there, he knows that face but he has never seen him like this.
A beautiful, tan young man stands where the Radio Demon should be.
His body is just as slender and elegant as he has always been but much smaller and delicate, and Vox has the urge to go forth and wrap his arms around Alastor.
Vox shakes himself but doesn’t move away; he can’t move away
He must be having some sort of malfunction. Maybe he fried his visual circuits when he zapped over here.
“Oh, about time you showed up; I need you to get the spices I put up there,” Alastor requests without turning around and pointing at a cabinet to the right of him.
His voice is unmistakable, and Vox knows that this is real.
This is further confirmed by how his body follows Alastor’s commands as if he has been put under a spell.
Vox opens the cabinet and is met with a myriad of spices and after a beat.
“Which one, Al?” Vox asks sheepishly. As soon as the words are out of his mouth, Alastor turns, and everything happens in rapid succession.
Vox can only stare.
Alastor is wearing glasses! He has no business looking so damn attractive when he is wearing glasses.
“What the Hell are you doing here, you egocentric electrical…argh,” Alastor’s jerky movement means he teeters on the step stool.
He shifts his weight forward so as not to land on the hot stove and ends up caught in Vox’s massive claws.
“Al?” Vox inquires, but he would know him anywhere, in any form. Vox is studying the warm brown eyes that look up at him with irritation.
“Put me down,” Alastor demands and Vox releases him so he can stand on the floor before him.
Like this he has more than 2 feet over Alastor and he has the urge to throw his arms around him and pick him up.
“What…how did this happen?” Vox asks.
Alastor growls at him and looks at him through his lashes.
Vox feels his screen heat up; no wonder he took the shape of a deer with those large doe eyes. He’s the most adorable serial killer to ever exists
Alastor rolls his eyes and huffs when he sees that it is only the two of them.
“Not that it is any of your business, but a magic mishap, it happens.” Alastor returns to the stove and steps up on the step stool to keep cooking.
“Where is everyone? Are you here alone?” Vox asks
“Obviously, I’m alone for now,” Alastor answers tartly.
Silence hangs between them, and Vox clears his throat.
What are you doing?” Vox states lamely.
“Cooking, some of us have to work for our place now hand me the red pepper I have up there, if you are going to be here make yourself useful,” Alastor demands.
Vox snorts, leave it to Alastor to be completely powerless and still treat him like an underling.
Vox grabs the requested spice and two other ones that Alastor is bound to ask for if Vox remembers correctly. Vox places them on the counter next to Alastor and leans against the counter.
Vox assures Alastor that everything is off the record, but recognizes that he is unlikely to tell him what has happened.
But Alastor can not kick him out right now, so he will just pester him and see what he can learn. Maybe he can do something. It would be nice to have Alastor owe him a favor, a card to hold against him until the time is right. He knows that Alastor would rather die again than ask for help particularly from him.
This begs the question of who exactly Alastor thought he was asking for help when he asked Vox to reach for the spices.
The hotel feels too empty.
“Is there some reason why you are still here?” Alastor snaps as he stirs the rice.
“I am still trying to wrap my head around you making a mistake and ending up like this,” Vox states mockingly.
“I never said that I made a mistake, only that a mistake occurred. Besides, it is only temporary,” Alastor grumbles.
“Pity, I could get used to this,” Vox announces.
“Of course, you could. This is the only way you would ever be more powerful than I usually am,” Alastor retorts, and doesn’t like the gleam in Vox’s gaze.
Ah so you are less powerful now.
Vox watches as Alastor throws enough spice into the jambalaya to make someone’s eyes water.
“Maybe I just want you to be at my mercy for once,” Vox comments.
Alastor laughs mirthlessly, but he doesn’t like the way Vox looks at him. He knows he knows that Vox has a weird fixation. That he had once wanted something from Alastor that he was unwilling to give and Vox could take it from him and kill him now.
If Alastor had anyone he hated at his mercy, he would have ended their existence without hesitation.
Vox continues to look at him.
“Well, this is the best opportuniity that you ever had so give it your best shot” Alastor baitsVox.
He has always wondered if Vox was too weak to truly fight him, but Rosie had always said that Vox was just hurt that Alastor didn’t care for him as anything more than a friendly acquaintance.
“It would hurt you worse for me to let everyone know that you are vulnerable,” Vox informs him.
Alastor grips the ladle tight wishing he had grabbed the knife that is out of reach.
When Alastor forces himself to look up at the screen defiantly, he sees something that he hadn’t expected, something soft underneath the obvious enjoyment that Vox was deriving from his misfortune.
“Thankfully, I am in a charitable mood, I could be convinced to keep quiet about your predicament if you give me something,” Vox proposes as he gets closer.
True to form, Alastor holds his ground and stares Vox down, even in his more vulnerable state.
“You will keep your silence because if you don’t, I will make you pay for it once I get my powers back,” Alastor snarls as he moves to grab a knife.
Vox reaches an arm around Alastor and presses the much smaller hand down so Alastor is trapped.
Alastor immediately tries to escape, but Vox holds him with one hand down as his other hand slowly wraps around Alastor’s waist.
“Unhand me!” Alastor demands but stills when he feels Vox’s hand squeeze around his waist.
They haven’t been this close since they used to dance together and Alastor now realizes that Rosie was right. It was never just dancing for Vox
“Oh, come on, Alastor, I just want a taste…of this delicious food,” Vox teases as he whispers in Alastor’s ear.
Alastor is taken aback by Vox’s proposal and had expected the brute to just take what he wanted. Instead, he is still playing their game. Even when Vox has a clear advantage, it’s oddly considerate.
“I will feed you dinner and nothing else, and you will keep your mouth shut,” Alastor demands.
Hoping that Vox will get carried away with winning and take that deal. Alastor’s devious smile quirks in a way that Vox recognizes.
“I guess I should specify that I would like to have this dinner with you,” Vox adds as he releases his hold on Alastor slightly. He flexes his hand, an explicit promise to hold him close if Alastor refuses.
“I will agree to dinner if you keep your hands to yourself,” Alastor offers.
Vox grins, finally a good starting point to bargain.
“I will keep my hands to myself and my silence if you sit next to me and make pleasant conversation for three dinners, and they have to be the good stuff. Don’t try to serve me raw meat when I know what you can do in the kitchen,” Vox counters.
“One dinner,” Alastor counters.
“Four dinners and a picture of you like this,” Vox proposes, pressing his hand over Alastor’s on the counter.
Alastor looks at the stove as if deliberating how much it will hurt to throw himself on it but realizes that he will be less likely to escape Vox if injured.
“Three pleasant, delicious dinners, no pictures of any sort, and I will sit next to you,” Alastor proposes as he glares at him. Vox releases his waist but keeps his hand over the knife. He is making a show of considering it.
“That is a tempting offer, but being able to be near you like this might be worth facing your wrath later,” Vox proclaims.
“What else do you want?” Alastor demands.
Vox knows what he wants, but he knows that Alastor won’t give it to him freely, and Vox doesn’t want it if it isn’t real, no matter his fantasies.
Watching Alastor squirm is one thing, but forcing him is another. He will have to settle for closure.
“I want to talk about what happened before,” Vox adds sternly.
“I thought you wanted pleasant conversation,” Alastor counters, but he catches sight of something in Vox’s gaze that makes him pause.
Resignation, as if Vox has come to terms with something.
“Maybe I need to hear some things from you without us trying to end each other, and I would like to have your shrimp étouffée while I hear them,” Vox discloses with a sigh.
Alastor ceases his fruitless struggle and realizes he better take the deal before Vox changes his mind or his mood turns. In addition to the already mentioned terms they agree to not injure the other until seventy two hours after the final dinner. That way if Alastor reverts to his demonic form he will not immediately attack Vox.
Vox and he shake hands, and Alastor feels the deal add another layer to their tangled connection.
“Now, get your hands off me. If we want to eat sometime soon, I need to be able to move,” Alastor growls.
Vox settles in against the counter, allowing himself to memorize how Alastor looks as he prepares dinner for the two of them.
Perhaps if he can pretend for a bit he will finally be able to move past whatever keeps him stuck on Alastor.
Perhaps seeing him weak and vulnerable will help Vox stop wanting him. As Vox catches the way his forearms move as he cooks he catches himself before he sighs.
No, he thinks.
He will use this one last opportunity to pursue Alastor, and he will do everything to make him see that they should be together as they should have always been and nothing will get in his way of finally courting his Radio Demon, properly.
Once Vox learns that Alastor has come back, he keeps a close eye on him, and Alastor will never be anything as boring as predictable. Given that he has cameras all over the Ring, Vox doesn’t have a shortage of sightings until the day he goes without catching Alastor once.
It’s fine, he’s a slippery fuck. If he wants to irritate Vox by disappearing. for a bit, he can.
The bastard is probably just trying to get his attention again.
Have a good laugh at his expense by watching Vox look for him. Vox isn’t falling for it this time. He is much too high profile now to traverse all over the Pride Ring looking for Alastor. When the second day passes, he buries himself in his work. When the third day nears, Vox scours all his cameras. By the afternoon of the fourth day, he is determined to find the stupid deer. If for no other reason than to set his mind free of him.
It isn’t that he’s worried; why would he be worried because the person he had been deeply emotionally attached to disappeared once and now might again be gone?
At least this time, he knows that multiple people have seen Alastor recently; someone will learn something.
Vox zaps himself over to the camera closest to the Hotel. It is still early in the day. Vox forced himself to finish most of his work before coming over, but it isn’t even dinner time yet.
Vox doesn’t knock when he arrives, and he will not give anyone advance warning if he can help. The lobby is empty, and he closes the door behind him.
The place seems nicer than what stood here before the extermination. It looks a bit gaudy for his taste, but everything is in working order. Vox listens hard and hears music he recognizes, but the scent of his cooking lures him to the kitchen.
There is no mistaking the scent of it.
Vox hasn’t had anything as good as Alastor’s cooking, not since their friendship went sour when he tried to take things further.
Vox had berated himself for wanting more, but what was a man supposed to do when you found someone attractive who matched your drive and energy and could cook the best food you had ever had in either plane of existence?
Vox follows his scent sensors to a door further in the first floor.
“Found you, you fucking reclusive prick,” Vox mutters to himself. He just needs to catch a glimpse of the skinny bastard; he doesn’t need to talk to him. However, when peers in, he sees nothing, so he takes a step and
Vox turns his screen to look.
He finds himself moving into the kitchen without consciously deciding to do so.
Alastor is there, he knows that face but he has never seen him like this.
A beautiful, tan young man stands where the Radio Demon should be.
His body is just as slender and elegant as he has always been but much smaller and delicate, and Vox has the urge to go forth and wrap his arms around Alastor.
Vox shakes himself but doesn’t move away; he can’t move away
He must be having some sort of malfunction. Maybe he fried his visual circuits when he zapped over here.
“Oh, about time you showed up; I need you to get the spices I put up there,” Alastor requests without turning around and pointing at a cabinet to the right of him.
His voice is unmistakable, and Vox knows that this is real.
This is further confirmed by how his body follows Alastor’s commands as if he has been put under a spell.
Vox opens the cabinet and is met with a myriad of spices and after a beat.
“Which one, Al?” Vox asks sheepishly. As soon as the words are out of his mouth, Alastor turns, and everything happens in rapid succession.
Vox can only stare.
Alastor is wearing glasses! He has no business looking so damn attractive when he is wearing glasses.
“What the Hell are you doing here, you egocentric electrical…argh,” Alastor’s jerky movement means he teeters on the step stool.
He shifts his weight forward so as not to land on the hot stove and ends up caught in Vox’s massive claws.
“Al?” Vox inquires, but he would know him anywhere, in any form. Vox is studying the warm brown eyes that look up at him with irritation.
“Put me down,” Alastor demands and Vox releases him so he can stand on the floor before him.
Like this he has more than 2 feet over Alastor and he has the urge to throw his arms around him and pick him up.
“What…how did this happen?” Vox asks.
Alastor growls at him and looks at him through his lashes.
Vox feels his screen heat up; no wonder he took the shape of a deer with those large doe eyes. He’s the most adorable serial killer to ever exists
Alastor rolls his eyes and huffs when he sees that it is only the two of them.
“Not that it is any of your business, but a magic mishap, it happens.” Alastor returns to the stove and steps up on the step stool to keep cooking.
“Where is everyone? Are you here alone?” Vox asks
“Obviously, I’m alone for now,” Alastor answers tartly.
Silence hangs between them, and Vox clears his throat.
What are you doing?” Vox states lamely.
“Cooking, some of us have to work for our place now hand me the red pepper I have up there, if you are going to be here make yourself useful,” Alastor demands.
Vox snorts, leave it to Alastor to be completely powerless and still treat him like an underling.
Vox grabs the requested spice and two other ones that Alastor is bound to ask for if Vox remembers correctly. Vox places them on the counter next to Alastor and leans against the counter.
Vox assures Alastor that everything is off the record, but recognizes that he is unlikely to tell him what has happened.
But Alastor can not kick him out right now, so he will just pester him and see what he can learn. Maybe he can do something. It would be nice to have Alastor owe him a favor, a card to hold against him until the time is right. He knows that Alastor would rather die again than ask for help particularly from him.
This begs the question of who exactly Alastor thought he was asking for help when he asked Vox to reach for the spices.
The hotel feels too empty.
“Is there some reason why you are still here?” Alastor snaps as he stirs the rice.
“I am still trying to wrap my head around you making a mistake and ending up like this,” Vox states mockingly.
“I never said that I made a mistake, only that a mistake occurred. Besides, it is only temporary,” Alastor grumbles.
“Pity, I could get used to this,” Vox announces.
“Of course, you could. This is the only way you would ever be more powerful than I usually am,” Alastor retorts, and doesn’t like the gleam in Vox’s gaze.
Ah so you are less powerful now.
Vox watches as Alastor throws enough spice into the jambalaya to make someone’s eyes water.
“Maybe I just want you to be at my mercy for once,” Vox comments.
Alastor laughs mirthlessly, but he doesn’t like the way Vox looks at him. He knows he knows that Vox has a weird fixation. That he had once wanted something from Alastor that he was unwilling to give and Vox could take it from him and kill him now.
If Alastor had anyone he hated at his mercy, he would have ended their existence without hesitation.
Vox continues to look at him.
“Well, this is the best opportuniity that you ever had so give it your best shot” Alastor baitsVox.
He has always wondered if Vox was too weak to truly fight him, but Rosie had always said that Vox was just hurt that Alastor didn’t care for him as anything more than a friendly acquaintance.
“It would hurt you worse for me to let everyone know that you are vulnerable,” Vox informs him.
Alastor grips the ladle tight wishing he had grabbed the knife that is out of reach.
When Alastor forces himself to look up at the screen defiantly, he sees something that he hadn’t expected, something soft underneath the obvious enjoyment that Vox was deriving from his misfortune.
“Thankfully, I am in a charitable mood, I could be convinced to keep quiet about your predicament if you give me something,” Vox proposes as he gets closer.
True to form, Alastor holds his ground and stares Vox down, even in his more vulnerable state.
“You will keep your silence because if you don’t, I will make you pay for it once I get my powers back,” Alastor snarls as he moves to grab a knife.
Vox reaches an arm around Alastor and presses the much smaller hand down so Alastor is trapped.
Alastor immediately tries to escape, but Vox holds him with one hand down as his other hand slowly wraps around Alastor’s waist.
“Unhand me!” Alastor demands but stills when he feels Vox’s hand squeeze around his waist.
They haven’t been this close since they used to dance together and Alastor now realizes that Rosie was right. It was never just dancing for Vox
“Oh, come on, Alastor, I just want a taste…of this delicious food,” Vox teases as he whispers in Alastor’s ear.
Alastor is taken aback by Vox’s proposal and had expected the brute to just take what he wanted. Instead, he is still playing their game. Even when Vox has a clear advantage, it’s oddly considerate.
“I will feed you dinner and nothing else, and you will keep your mouth shut,” Alastor demands.
Hoping that Vox will get carried away with winning and take that deal. Alastor’s devious smile quirks in a way that Vox recognizes.
“I guess I should specify that I would like to have this dinner with you,” Vox adds as he releases his hold on Alastor slightly. He flexes his hand, an explicit promise to hold him close if Alastor refuses.
“I will agree to dinner if you keep your hands to yourself,” Alastor offers.
Vox grins, finally a good starting point to bargain.
“I will keep my hands to myself and my silence if you sit next to me and make pleasant conversation for three dinners, and they have to be the good stuff. Don’t try to serve me raw meat when I know what you can do in the kitchen,” Vox counters.
“One dinner,” Alastor counters.
“Four dinners and a picture of you like this,” Vox proposes, pressing his hand over Alastor’s on the counter.
Alastor looks at the stove as if deliberating how much it will hurt to throw himself on it but realizes that he will be less likely to escape Vox if injured.
“Three pleasant, delicious dinners, no pictures of any sort, and I will sit next to you,” Alastor proposes as he glares at him. Vox releases his waist but keeps his hand over the knife. He is making a show of considering it.
“That is a tempting offer, but being able to be near you like this might be worth facing your wrath later,” Vox proclaims.
“What else do you want?” Alastor demands.
Vox knows what he wants, but he knows that Alastor won’t give it to him freely, and Vox doesn’t want it if it isn’t real, no matter his fantasies.
Watching Alastor squirm is one thing, but forcing him is another. He will have to settle for closure.
“I want to talk about what happened before,” Vox adds sternly.
“I thought you wanted pleasant conversation,” Alastor counters, but he catches sight of something in Vox’s gaze that makes him pause.
Resignation, as if Vox has come to terms with something.
“Maybe I need to hear some things from you without us trying to end each other, and I would like to have your shrimp étouffée while I hear them,” Vox discloses with a sigh.
Alastor ceases his fruitless struggle and realizes he better take the deal before Vox changes his mind or his mood turns. In addition to the already mentioned terms they agree to not injure the other until seventy two hours after the final dinner. That way if Alastor reverts to his demonic form he will not immediately attack Vox.
Vox and he shake hands, and Alastor feels the deal add another layer to their tangled connection.
“Now, get your hands off me. If we want to eat sometime soon, I need to be able to move,” Alastor growls.
Vox settles in against the counter, allowing himself to memorize how Alastor looks as he prepares dinner for the two of them.
Perhaps if he can pretend for a bit he will finally be able to move past whatever keeps him stuck on Alastor.
Perhaps seeing him weak and vulnerable will help Vox stop wanting him. As Vox catches the way his forearms move as he cooks he catches himself before he sighs.
No, he thinks.
He will use this one last opportunity to pursue Alastor, and he will do everything to make him see that they should be together as they should have always been and nothing will get in his way of finally courting his Radio Demon, properly.
Vox’s impromptu cooking session with Alastor is crashed by an unwelcome guest
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the
Organization for Transformative Works
Alastor is determined to work in silence but given that things are set up high above to keep them out of Niffty’s reach he has to ask Vox for help.
Eventually he breaks the silence and manages to make polite conversation. His mother raised him well, and manners always help when you are at a disadvantage.
Vox opens up a pantry and the fridge, and Alastor wonders what he is looking for since he hasn’t asked for anything else.
“I can make cornbread unless you prefer something else,” Vox proposes, and Alastor nods.
“I'm Glad to see that you remember something I taught you,” Alastor remarks as he watches Vox pull cornmeal, flour, and milk.
“It’s the only food that I can make as well as you can; I don’t get to cook much,” Vox’s answer trails off as a voice sounds out from the lobby.
“Alastor! Sorry for the delay; Charlie had me open the entire Royal Library for her and the group. They will continue looking for a counter-spell,” Lucifer explains as he walks through the lobby and approaches the kitchen. There’s a sound of Lucifer pausing.
“Oh, the King? Charlie?” Vox smirks as he motions to Alastor.
He might have to send the Princess of Hell a thank you card for her little mishap. Dinner with Alastor and an opportunity to connect with Lucifer? Today is turning out to be an embarrassment of riches.
Despite being one of the most powerful Overlords in the Ring, he has never met the King; maybe he can form a business connection or at least make himself memorable enough for a future endeavor. It can’t hurt to be friendly with the monarch.
Alastor fixes him with a look of don’t you start.
“I am sure that Charlie will figure it out soon,” Alastor answers as Lucifer walks in with a few shopping bags.
“So it will just be you and me tonight. If you want, I can portal their food over so it doesn’t go to waste,” Lucifer proposes as he sets the groceries on the table.
“Who are you?” Lucifer questions in a rather hostile tone, surprised at finding anyone here with Alastor.
Lucifer examines Vox as if he were an unsightly insect that he found in his food.
Despite having the height advantage, Vox feels belittled.
Alastor either does not notice or care about the tension, hops off the stool, and begins to put things away. He thanks Lucifer for the groceries.
Lucifer is fixated on Vox’s screen, and only then does he realize that neither of them has said anything.
Vox stammers a bit, he wasn’t expecting ever to have the King glare at him.
“This is Vox from the Vees, Sire. Charlie and I have mentioned him before,” Alastor reminds Lucifer.
Lucifer’s eyes widen in recognition.
“Oh, the one with the poor sense of boundaries. How can we help you?” Lucifer demands in a tone suggesting that Vox would be better off elsewhere.
“Sire, Vox was concerned about my sudden disappearance he just stopped by to…” Alastor explains that he doesn’t want to inform Lucifer of what has transpired.
It has been humiliating enough to receive help from the King while he is in this state, but if Lucifer were to handle Vox for him.
Ugh, he couldn’t bear it.
Besides, he doesn’t want Vox to turn around and broadcast his situation, and Alastor is sure that setting Lucifer on Vox would count as harming him.
Vox gives him a nervous smile that he is familiar with. The old follow my lead, and everything will be fine.
“I stopped by to make sure Alastor was ok. I can’t have him leaving again for years on end and not know what happened to my…friend, and he was alone when I got here,” Vox asserts with his most charming smile.
Lucifer’s crease between his brows deepens. He should have locked the door when he left, but he didn’t think anyone would stop by.
Friend, they haven’t been friends in years, have they? Thinks Alastor.
“Friend?” Lucifer repeats suspiciously as he goes to stand next to Alastor. Lucifer is only slightly taller than Alastor in this form.
Lucifer turns to Alastor, and his hat blocks Vox’s view of Alastor’s face.
“Yes, Sire,” Alastor confirms, his tone calm, and Lucifer turns to look at Vox again.
Lucifer nods suspiciously but smiles when he looks at Alastor.
“I have asked you to use my name,” Lucifer reminds Alastor.
“Oh, sorry force of habit, sir…Lucifer,” Alastor answers, and Vox swears that Lucifer almost glows when Alastor says his name.
Alastor doesn’t seem to react to the way that Lucifer is smiling at him with anything but polite warmth. The look Lucifer throws his way is as warm as an icebox in Antártica.
It makes Vox feel as if he’s an intruder in something private. As if he has stumbled on someone else’s hunting grounds and been caught snaring traps.
Alastor turns to take some vegetables to the sink.
For a second, Vox wonders if Alastor is unaware of Lucifer’s interest or if Vox is misreading something.
His answer comes when he catches Lucifer manifesting something out of thin air out of his periphery.
“Oh, I got you something that wasn’t on the list,” Lucifer announces playfully.
“It better not disrupt the menu I have planned,” Alastor answers as he rinses the vegetables. Alastor gives out a disgruntled sigh as he looks around for something he needs.
Vox realizes that Alastor isn’t wearing the apron he usually dons when he cooks or used to wear. Vox is about to get a towel to dry off his hands when one appears out of thin air in front of Alastor.
“Thank you,” Alastor answers as he dries his hands, and Lucifer motions him over.
Alastor walks back to Lucifer, who is holding something behind his hands.
“Turn around, and close your eyes,”Lucifer requests and Alastor narrows his eyes at the Monarch but complies he catches Vox’s gaze before he closes his eyes. Alastor is mildly confused but willing to play along, even if it seems like he is biting his tongue to keep from saying something snarky.
Alastor closes his eyes when Vox shrugs nonchalantly.
Lucifer unfurls a blood-red apron that is the appropriate size for Alastor’s current height. He places it over Alastor’s head and then pulls the strings to tie it in the back.
Lucifer isn’t grabbing Alastor, but he is invading his space and looking at Alastor with much more open fondness than Vox ever expected to see from the King of Hell.
More surprising is that Alastor is allowing the Monarch into his space.
“May I open my eyes now?” Alastor asks, and Lucifer laughs as he informs him that he may.
When Alastor looks down, he sees the blood-red apron that matches his preferred color, but his eyes fall on the yellow duck wearing a chef’s hat prominently displayed in the middle.
“Quack cuisine?” Alastor huffs.
The monarch laughs.
Alastor rolls his eyes, but there is much less annoyance in the gesture than Vox expected.
“I am glad that my humiliation continues to amuse you,” Alastor grumbles.
“Oh, come on, you look great, and I know how much you hate getting anything on your clothes,” Lucifer jokes, and the corner of Alastor’s mouth quirks in a true smile.
Lucifer seems to be enjoying being eye-to-eye with Alastor.
“True, but I will remember this next time you lose one of our wagers,” Alastor promises while stepping away from Lucifer but maintaining eye contact.
Vox is not jealous, but he doesn’t appreciate being ignored.
“Alastor, I think the cornbread is done,” Vox announces, which makes Alastor turn his full attention to the stove.
Vox and Lucifer look at each other.
“Well so nice of you to drop by, but as you can see dinner is about to be served,” Lucifer announces.
Vox is a bit taken aback by the clear dismissal, but he has never been able to back down from a challenge. And he isn’t leaving without a bite of the food that lured him in.
“Oh, do you have dinner with Alastor often?” Vox asks, leaning against the counter, making it clear he isn’t leaving yet.
“No, usually I cook for everyone, but it will just be us tonight,” Alastor answers without looking at either of them.
Vox quickly does the math of sacrificing one of his dinners with Alastor versus leaving him alone with someone who is obviously trying to court Alastor, even if the latter seems unaware and uninterested.
If Lucifer charms Alastor enough, he will lose any chance of reconnecting with him. Vox will be doomed to watch from the sidelines and perhaps report on whatever sort of relationship both of them develop.
Alastor pulls out the cornbread from the stove, and Lucifer and Vox turn to watch as he bends at the waist. When they both make eye contact, Vox knows he is about to be directed to leave.
“Let me show you to…” Lucifer starts his arm pointing towards the door.
“The dining room, a meal like this deserves a proper table, don’t you think, Sire,” Vox interrupts with his most disarming smile. Lucifer looks at him as if he were the most dense sinner in all of existence.
“I am agreeable to that,” Alastor answers, and Lucifer beams at Alastor.
“Of course,” Lucifer nods at Alastor, who turns to retrieve the plates. Lucifer and Vox follow close behind. Alastor pulls open a cabinet and begins to rummage for the plate he is looking for.
“Here, just tell me which ones, and I will set them up for you,” Vox offers as he extends one of his large hands to show Alastor that he will not struggle to hold them.
“Thank you,” Alastor answers and moves aside to allow Vox to retrieve two plates. Lucifer pulls out one lone plate. Alastor retrieves the cutlery.
Vox smiles as he serves both of them. He looks over his shoulder and tries to smile at the Monarch, but he is sure it comes out as more of a smirk.
“You will have to tell me what you think of the cornbread, Al,” Vox requests as he stands by the door, waiting to follow Alastor and Lucifer to the dining area.
Lucifer raises an eyebrow at Vox’s statement and pauses, allowing Alastor to walk out of the kitchen first. When Alastor is a few steps ahead, Lucifer clears his throat.
“You said that as if you prepared it,” Lucifer points out.
“I did; it is one of the recipes Alastor taught me years ago,” Vox answers with a satisfied hum.
“Is that so? Let’s hope it turned out alright, given your history of not listening to Alastor,” Lucifer retorts before taking off after Alastor.
Vox isn’t going to let anyone, even the King of Hell, stand in his way.
“I can assure you, sire, that I spent enough years with Alastor that it will match his perfectly; it will taste exactly as if he would make it,” Vox stresses the word match and responds with a smile that has more teeth than his charming one.
Vox laughs joyfully, recalling how many times he and Alastor spent huddled together in a kitchen before they became the Overlord they are today.
“But you haven’t spent much time together recently. Given that I have met his other friends over the time that I have been here. I could have sworn that your name left a bad taste in his mouth,” Lucifer responds.
Lucifer and Vox eye each other up. Both wonder if they will take a bite out of each other or the food first.
In the end, Lucifer and Vox walk to the dining room when they hear Alastor calling, both intent on getting their claws on the main course.
Late obligatory Halloween art, though I was NOT late for partying and fumbling two bad bitches so let’s go 🤑🤑🤑 (I engaged them in riveting conversation and never asked for their socials 💪)
