🪶Live To Laugh🪶 @thetickleeraven - Tumblr Blog

thetickleeraven

Jun 24

Reunion

‘You’re Never Fully Heard Without A Laugh’ Series [Tumblr Masterpost | AO3]

Hazbin Hotel | Murdermedia [Human!Alastor x Human!Vincent] to Sparks Duo [Past Alastor x Vox]

Summary: Dying has never felt so relieving [no tickling in this chapter, itll be in the next one]

Part ELEVEN of this series! The moment a LOT of us have been waiting for.

Warnings: slight gore, death, suggestive themes, implications of homophobia, cults, i think thats it?

REMINDER THAT THIS BLOG WILL BE DELETED (eventually) AND ALL MY FICS WILL BE ON AO3 FOREVER.

>>>BOOKMARK MY AO3 HERE<<<

...

The cult had been working great.

It started small, a few followers here and there, a way to easily funnel victims into a bi-weekly killing ritual so he could convene with the love of his eternity, but it soon grew into something bigger, better, brighter.

To usher in the new adaptation of technicolor TV, Vincent had stood amongst his people, their leader, their God, on a pedestal worthy of him. All their eyes looked to him.

Can you see me, Alastor? All the way down there? I am their Sun, you are my moon.

I wish you were beside me now, to rule them with me.

But they are not just my worshippers, they are my ticket to you, and thus we share them together. Our sky is their Heaven, and even worlds apart, we still belong to each other.

Vincent's future, and thus the future of television, was bright!

The snap of a wire was his only warning.

Pain. The most extreme burning pain Vincent had ever experienced. He could barely hear his own scream over the bloody pulsing heat enveloping his head and spreading throughout his body.

Sharp, scorching, electrifying agony.

Then, it dulled, it faded, into something numb and unplaceable. His body drifted up from him, as did the ground itself. Everything went dark.

...

Everything was fuzzy. He'd never been so confused in all his life. Or maybe he had? Where the fuck was he? Why did he feel so different? He was so hot and his head... it just felt... weird.

Vincent's vision came back to him slowly. He was on his back staring up... was that the sky? Red?

That smell... acrid and smokey... it was something he'd been smelling once every two weeks for years now.

The sky, the pain, the smell...

This was Hell.

Vincent sat up abruptly and immediately flung himself onto his face... sort of his face? God his head was heavy! Did he somehow carry that CRT down with him?

Vincent placed his hands on the bottom of the TV and ... that felt like his skin, but not? He... he felt the touch but it definitely felt like plastic on his hands.

He gripped the edge and tried to pry it off his head but FUCK that hurt his neck when he tried!

He held the sides as he more slowly sat up. Yeah, he could definitely feel the his hands through the plastic.

There was no way... He shakily pressed his hand towards his face and... it was glass. And he felt his hands through the glass. Or... no way, his face was glass?

The CRT WAS his head?!

Wait, something felt weird on... his ass. What? He shakily reached behind him, sharp claws scratching the pavement, and found... a cable? One that he felt, so it was definitely part of his body.

He started flexing new muscles he'd never had, ones connecting to his ass of all things, and an AC power cable started twitching and scraping the ground.

He had a tail now.

Alastor would probably tease him to death about it.

...Alastor!

Vincent gasped excitedly before coughing harshly at the thick stench and smoke.

God, he felt like he could barely breathe. How the Hell was he breathing anyway? He had glass on his face!

He scratched at his torso and felt some type of sweater vest. Not great for this heat, holy shit. Fuck, was it tight on him or something? Something was keeping him from breathing fully, or maybe that was his personal Hell, to constantly feel like he was never getting a deep enough breath.

Wow... as he looked around, he remembered Alastor had told him it was a city, but... He didn't expect Hell to look like this. It was as if he just stepped into New York City pre-World War One.... and it was really red.

His mind effortlessly conjured up the image of the paper. The same paper he had spent weeks, months, years, committing to memory.

He had to find Rosie in Cannibal Town, and then...!

Oh, he could hardly wait. It was everything he'd dreamt up for so long.

He stood up with shaky legs, struggling to balance himself with an extra 10 pounds of weight on top.

Looking around, he started to notice... he wasn't alone. There were quite a number of other people around him also regaining their bearings. Maybe 30 or so?

The same amount of people that had been in the room with him...

The CRT must've crashed into the floor... filled with water.

Ohhhh... he electrocuted his entire cult.

He should probably get out of there before they figured out what had happened.

Vincent ran as fast as he could which was more of a brisk wobbly walk, careful not to trip on his new appendage flicking and bouncing behind him. He had to find the gray sinners with black eyes and sharp teeth.

All around him were large brick buildings resembling apartments or perhaps even tenements.

There were... a lot of sinners everywhere he went... or maybe some of them were hellborne? Most of them just seemed to be... existing outside. It reminded him of Louisiana summers when he was a kid, before air conditioning was commonplace.

Fuck what if there's no AC here? That really would be Hell. The heat here was easily comparable to New Orleans in August.

He was really going to have to get used to seeing demons instead of humans. Everyone looked so crazy! There were people with more or less than two eyes, people with animal traits like Alastor, a guy who looked part knife, little short guys with red skin and horns (Alastor had mentioned imps before. were they those?), and even-

There! Pale gray skin, jet black eyes, sharp teeth! It was a woman in a poofy dress like something straight out of the early 1800s. He rushed up to her, clearly startling her.

"Ugh!" She scoffed with a shrill voice. "Have you no manners, sir?"

"Sorry, miss." Vincent said between pants. "Do you know where I can find Rosie? In Cannibal Town?"

"Cannibal Town? Why it's just over the way in that direction." She gestured her paper fan down some street. "Perhaps just a few minutes' walk."

He needed to get himself one of those fans. He felt like he was suffocating.

"Thanks, miss." Vincent nodded his head and nearly sent himself back to the ground before shakily regaining his balance. Before she could respond, he was off.

If he could just meet this Rosie woman he'd finally get to see Alastor.

Technically he'd been seeing him bi-weekly for years now, but this was different. This time it wasn't just for two hours. This time... he'd go home with him.

As he ran through the streets, the landscape shifted. The buildings he passed were no longer large packed tenements, but now resembled 1800s Victorian architecture, smaller and more elegant. The further he ran, the more cannibal sinners he spotted.

Most of the cannibals also dressed in a Victorian style as opposed to the large variety of styles of the sinners from where he had just come from.

A large wooden sign in scratched on letters told him what he already knew, 'Cannibal Town'.

Okay, so he found the right district, now he had to find Rosie's Emporium.

From what Alastor had told him, it was so big that 'you can't miss it!'

Please let that be true.

He turned a corner and nearly face-planted in shock at a group of three cannibals slurping up intestines on the pavement like 5-star spaghetti.

He shivered. He knew Alastor was a cannibal, Hell, he even helped him prepare meals with human flesh on occasion, but that was a line Vincent never crossed himself. He'd gotten desensitized to the sight over the years but this was just another level.

One of the cannibals, flesh hanging from her teeth, looked at him and smiled.

Vincent smiled in return though it was more of a grimace and quickly scurried off.

He needed to find this emporium quickly.

...Well what do you know?

A sign, the most helpful thing he'd seen down here, read 'Rosie's Emporium! Hell's sweetest overlord!' with an arrow painted on.

A sigh of relief, though shallow and unsatisfying to his struggling lungs.

The door opened with a classic bell chime to reveal a lovely little parlor with various cannibal customers.

Vincent immediately spotted a large feathered hat peeking over the tops of other sinner's heads. That was her right?

She was behind a counter with a small line queued in front, all gray-skinned dark-eyed cannibals.

What was Vincent to do?

He stood in line.

Ugh, all those massive toothy smiles were kinda creepy. Though, to be fair, Alastor had a similar one, all gold and sharp, but he was at least used to Alastor's permanent smile... this was different.

They all kept stealing glances at him. He supposed he could understand, he was currently the only non-cannibal in the building.

The line moved up.

Everyone seemed dressed Victorian style. It was strange knowing he'd be spending the rest of eternity with people from all different time periods. Were there caveman-people? Did sin exist for cavemen? Or... did Adam and Eve exist? Was Cain down here?

They shuffled forward.

Now he could see more of who was at the counter. Yes. Definitely Rosie. The charms at the brim, the dress... that was her.

She currently seemed to be discussing shipments of foods? Finger foods.

You didn't have to be a genius to figure out that probably meant actual fingers as food.

"Next!" Her voice called out.

Vincent shuffled up nervously. Rosie smiled brightly at him.

"Ah, from the looks of your form, you're not here for any of my goods, so what can ol' Rosie do ya for?"

Vincent was shaking. He wasn't sure why, Alastor had assured him this is what he needed to do to meet him again.

Maybe because it was finally real. Something built up so highly in his mind for years. He was so close.

"Hi," his voice cracked. He cleared his throat and tried again. "Hi, I'm Vincent Whittman. I was told to introduce myself to you."

Those two dark voids on her face widened to the size of dinner plates. She gasped with enough drama to rival the actors from Vincent's old theater classes.

"Vincent? You're Vincent?!" She grabbed a sign from behind the counter and slammed it down on the countertop.

'Closed for lunch'

"Sorry, everyone," Her voice was loud and more enthusiastic than apologetic, "but an emergency has presented itself, I'll be back later to assist you all!"

There were various murmurs of disappointment but Vincent could barely even hear them as his arm was grabbed and he was dragged away. Fuck, she was strong for a dame. He felt like his shoulder was about to dislocate as he stumbled behind her.

"Oh, Vincent! You have no idea how long I've been waiting to meet you! How long Ally's been dying to be with you again!"

"He said that?" Vincent asked excitedly as he was drug into a room in the back. After being pretty much thrown like a ragdoll onto to an armchair, he rotated his shoulder and readjusted his seating to something more comfortable, minding his tail and the firm block of plastic and metal at the end.

Rosie snapped her fingers and an ornate tray of food and tea appeared on the table in front of him. Wow. Magic. What'd he have to do to get that kind of power?

"Maybe not exactly like that but very close! He's so very private but I've managed to squeeze some information out of him, like his little date nights with a 'human associate' named Vincent Whittman."

Vincent felt his cheeks warm as a shy grin inched across his face.

Face? Cheeks? He wondered how his appearance actually looked to others.

"He... he called them dates?" Ugh, his voice sounded more like a bashful teenager than the Godlike leader of an entertainment empire he had been less than an hour ago.

Rosie's face was eager and smug, like that of a mother teasing her son before his prom date.

"Not really, but judging by that smitten look of yours, that's what they were."

Vincent stiffened. Didn't Alastor say they needed to keep their relationship under wraps?

"Ah- n-no! Alastor and I... we're just," Vincent cringed as age old words burned on his tongue, "We're just business partners."

He hoped he'd never have to utter that awful phrase ever again. It curdled his stomach just hearing it aloud.

"Oh, don't even try to play that with me, kid. I'm much older than the two of you combined, though I hardly look it," Rosie chuckled loudly. "I won't disclose how, but I learned a bit about how close you two are. Especially about your... little games?" Rosie wiggled her fingers in the air and Vincent choked on his own spit, burning with embarrassment.

"He- He told you that?!"

"Again, I have my ways." She shrugged. "I've been just dying to meet Ally's little 'associate'." She made overexaggerated air quotes as she laughed again before picking up a teacup. "Now, please, eat your fill, no good dying on an empty stomach." Another loud self-amused laugh.

"U-Uh..." Vincent stammered, still feeling his face, or whatever his face was now, uncomfortably warm. He took a teacup from the tray and held it to his mouth, pausing before clinging against the glass. "Shit..." He opened his mouth more. He could feel his mouth, his tongue. He could run his tongue along his teeth which were much sharper now. But how was he supposed to...?

"Oh God, can I never eat or drink again? Is that my punishment?" He whined, desperately clinking the teacup to his glass face.

"Now, now, don't panic, dearie, you'll chip my fine china!" Rosie set her teacup down and squinted at him. "I gotta say, a glass face is a new one. I can see your mouth, but it looks more like a drawing than anything. Very flat."

Vincent placed his claws against his face. "A screen..."

"That's an interesting pickle. But it's nothing important right now. Now, do tell, what is that fancy contraption sitting on your shoulders?"

He pouted and set down the teacup. "Oh, uh, it's a television. A CRT. Do you... get tv down here?"

"Can't say we do. The living up top are typically further ahead technologically than us down here, though the gap has been closing lately. We just got radio about 5 or so years before Alastor came down. So what's a tv do?"

Vincent's whole posture and demeanor perked up. Finally something he was familiar with.

"It's an incredible invention of entertainment and broadcast. It's like radio, but has audio AND video! Where my face is? That's a screen that shows images. You can see people moving around and talking in perfect sync on it. You can watch news programs, talk shows, and even movies! In fact, today, we were celebrating the adaptation of color tv! Full lifelike color pictures!" Vincent rambled excitedly, gesticulating wildly as he explained. "It's like looking into a window of real life, moving right inside the TV. I was known as Vincent Whittman, the God of entertainment! I owned a whole network and was the face of it!"

An amused snort and a sip of tea. "My, aren't you special? A performer, huh? And a god complex to boot. Now I see what the two of you have in common."

Vincent flashed his signature grin. "It's not a complex if it's true."

"Oh, what a charmer. Now, tell me, how did the God of entertainment come down here today? Something to do the that tv of yours, I assume?" She bit into one of the small crustless sandwiches on a flowery plate and washed it down with more tea.

Oh, how he wished he could eat or drink right now.

"How I died? Well, uh..." He rubbed the back of his neck, which was awkwardly angled around the giant plastic frame. "I had a bit of a movement, a group of devoted followers,"

"A cult?"

"You could call it a cult. I had everyone gathered together, in ankle-deep water to be 'baptized into the new era of entertainment', with TVs hung overhead. I've always had a flair for dramatics, and it looked amazing! But uh, I guess the wires weren't as sturdy as I thought..." He trailed off but Rosie seemed keen to finished for him.

"It felt on your head right?"

He huffed and shrank back into his chair. "Yeah. And I think it electrocuted all my followers cause when I woke up there were the same about of people all waking up too."

"Now that's interesting! Killing people on your way down to Hell is rare, but when it happens, its known to give you a bit of power not unlike a soul contract."

"Power? It gave me power?" He asked not unlike a kid being promised candy.

"Probably. You should test it out once you and Ally are... alone together."

Vincent jolted and steamed in embarrassment at the implication.

She laughed and waved her hand. "Alright alright. Now, I suppose you're wanting to see your... 'associate' again." She wiggled her eyebrows and Vincent felt even hotter under the collar than the heat and sweater vest combo had him already.

"Ah, blushing bright blue, such a cutie. I'd pinch your cheeks if you had 'em."

His blush was blue now? Interesting.

He really wish he knew what his face looked like.

A loud clearing of his throat. "Yes, I would like to see him."

"Then let's get this reunion going." Rosie snapped her fingers and a quill and some parchment appeared hovering in the air. The quill scribbled something on the paper, and with a snap of her fingers, both were gone. "He should be here shortly."

Vincent blinked. "I have a question."

"Maybe I'll have an answer."

"How do you two know each other? You seem close. He told me after he died to find you so we could find each other. Are you... related or something?"

She laughed so loud she snorted, waving her hand wildly as she sat down her teacup.

"Heavens, no! Though, don't tell him I told you this, he once called me 'mama' by mistake."

Vincent barked out a laugh. "Really?!"

"Oh, he was so embarrassed! He was saying goodbye and said 'ta-ta, mama!' before turning cherry red. I teased the living daylights out of him, still do!"

Vincent snickered. That was incredible, oh he wished he could've seen it. Seeing Alastor getting embarrassed was always an incredible treat.

But as funny as that was, she never answered his question. He was about to ask again when he was interrupted.

A crackling static graced Vincent's... ears? (How did he hear things now?) He jolted as his heart rate doubled. This was it. The moment.

"Rosie did you have to be so vague in your note?" Alastor's staticky voice came from behind him. "I'd like to know exactly why I was summoned in the middle of lunch. It had better be more important than freshly prepared heart and eye kebabs."

Rosie's grin was massive as she gestured to the armchair across from her. "Must you be so rude after a guest has come all this way to see you?"

Alastor walked forward, two plastic to-go containers in his hand, and peered his head down at Vincent. His gaze was unamused and irritated, before slowly shifting to confusion.

Vincent grinned whilst his heart pounded in his ribs.

"Guess who's not a prey animal? No fluffy little ears on this form, doll."

Those red eyes widened and that massive artificial smile softened to something dangerously genuine. The to-go containers dropped but Rosie quickly snatched them before spilling their contents.

"I'll keep these. Call them a finders-fee."

Alastor didn't even acknowledge her. His hands rested on Vincent's shoulders and he beamed. He took one deep breath, eyes gentle and bright.

"Welcome home, Squeaks."

Vincent's throat tightened and eyes welled up with tears.

Home.

His house on Earth hadn't felt like home since Alastor had died.

Now. This was home. Home was with Alastor.

Vincent stood up abruptly only to find... they were at eye-level. Well, mostly.

Dammit how was he still shorter?! At least it was only a little but STILL.

"I-I... Alastor..." He had gone over this moment a thousand times and... his mind was blank.

All he could think of was that he truly was home. He was finally, after all these years, reunited with Alastor in every sense of the word.

He reached out and yanked his partner forward into a crushing hug, burying his face in his shoulder. It wasn't a natural position with the giant cube on his head, but he made it work.

"I missed you." He just barely managed to hold back his tears.

"And I, you," he whispered back so painfully soft.

He sniffled, letting out a bit of a whimper as years of longing and loneliness seeped into him, bubbling up his throat and brimming at the edge of his eyes.

"My dearest Vincent, you might want to save the crying for later," He murmured against his casing. "We have an audience."

Vincent gasped and pulled back, eyes locking on the woman with a giant grin.

"Well, don't let me stop this tearful reunion. It was just getting to the good part! I've never seen you so affectionate, Ally."

Alastor's ears flicked back and his face crinkled. "Rosie... Must you tease me every chance you get?"

"Yes!"

"Well then I'll save my partner from your mocking as well." He looked back to Vincent with a relaxed smile. He held out his hand. "Come now, Vincent. Let's go home."

"Nothing would make me happier." It was the raw honest truth. Vincent took the hand offered to him as Alastor began leading him out the door.

"You better bring him back around sometime!" Rosie called with good humor in her voice. "You can't keep such a charming little thing away from me forever."

"We'll see!" Alastor called back and twirled his finger as the door slammed shut behind them.

Alastor released his hand to open the front door of the parlor, holding it open for Vincent to walk through. He could be so polite for such a sadist.

"Follow me." He said as he began walking down one of the nearby streets. Vincent followed immediately, eyes roaming over the landscape with a newfound sense of safety.

He noticed Alastor staring at him as they walked with curious eyes.

"What's with that look?" He asked.

Alastor's eyes narrowed and then he heard a crackling that felt like it was inside his mind. Something tingled on the top of his head, like an itch he couldn't scratch.

"Vincent? Can you hear me?"

That was Alastor's voice but he wasn't opening his mouth. It was like it was inside him!

Vincent opened his mouth to question but that inner voice cut him off.

"I assumed because of your antennae that you could pick up radio waves. Nod your head if you can hear me."

He nodded eagerly. This was so cool! Wait... he had antennae?

"There are eyes and ears everywhere, especially for an overlord like me. Our conversations aloud are not private when we are out and about. Try answering me through the radio waves. We can talk like this."

Wow this was a lot to spring on him at once. He just fucking got down here! Now he has brain powers to master?

Alastor turned a corner and Vincent copied, face crinkled as he put all his effort into this new power.

"You're overthinking it. Demonic abilities are natural. CRTs use radio waves do they not? This is intrinsic to your form. Feel the sound, the waves, the vibrations. Hear your voice in your head as if you were speaking and send it through your antennae."

Vincent nodded as they continued walking.

This was giving him a headache, a weird tingly one.

"-an you hear me Can you hear me?" He felt it that time. Something firmer and... buzzier.

Alastor's grin widened. "Loud and clear."

Vincent pumped his fist in the air.

"Fuck yes! First power mastered!"

Alastor laughed out loud, the back of his hand a few inches in front of his grin.

"'Mastered' is a strong word, but this is impressive for your first day. Now that our words are private, do you have anything questions while we walk to our house?"

"Like a billion." Vincent answered honestly. "Like... who is Rosie to you?"

"A friend," he answered immediately. "Though somewhat of an annoyance at times. She has powerful connections and information that I... make use of."

Vague. But he figured it was best to leave it.

They turned another corner. They seemed to be moving to the outskirts of cannibal town, with the buildings becoming less dense and the amount of apparent sinners becoming more sparse.

"What's your house like?"

"Our house is quite similar to ours before I died as it was what I was most familiar with for living day-to-day. It has a large kitchen, a mini-bar, and a special room with a little surprise I think you'll enjoy."

"With everything I've seen today I'm not sure anything will surprise me."

"Oh, I believe it shall."

"About powers... you always kept yours from me when I did the rituals. Are you finally gonna tell me what they are?"

"Where's the showmanship in simply telling you? There's a lot of things about me you don't know. Like I said, patience is a strong suit of mine. I'll enjoy when you discover each one."

"When do I start getting powers? I have to start making soul contracts, right?"

"We'll get there. You've always been so power-hungry... a man after my own heart. Today is just for us. We'll cover the future... tomorrow."

"I have no complaints about that."

Vincent winced at a whining sound through his head.

"Are you alright?"

"I-" He grit his teeth as it worsened. This time, he spoke out loud. "It's giving me a headache. I think it's cause I'm not used to it. Let's just talk when we're there."

Alastor nodded and said not a word more. They continued their walk until they came across... exactly what Alastor had said. A house not unlike the one they lived in together when alive.

It was almost eerily similar, right down to the shape of the backyard and wood used for the front door.

Alastor, again, opened the door and held it open. Vincent giggled. So gentlemanly.

The moment he walked in it was like walking into a bubble. The ambient noise from the city muffled into nothing, now replaced by a quiet jazz record and the hum of air conditioning.

Oh, sweet Air conditioning!

"No one shall hear us now. My abode is well protected in every sense, including sound." Alastor shut the door. "Speak freely. I do miss your voice, darling."

"Fuck, I've been without AC for a couple hours and it feels like its been a lifetime." Vincent took a purposeful deep breath and began coughing.

"Yes, you know I generally prefer a more antique aesthetic but even I prefer that modern convenience." He placed a hand on his shoulder. "What's wrong, dear?"

Vincent scratched at an itch on his side and jerked. Why were his sides so sensitive and...

"Oh, dear God, I need this sweater off." He said between coughs.

"Thankfully there's a zipper back here, otherwise I fear we'd have to cut it off."

Yeah with his giant ass head there was no way would it come over head so easily.

"Allow me." Alastor purred and gently held the hem of the garment.

Vincent flushed and held his hands out as his partner unzipped the back and carefully, and suggestively slow, pulled that cotton rag from his arms and torso and carelessly tossed it aside.

Finally it felt like he could fucking breathe, though there was still that itchy scratchy sensation.

"My, my..." Alastor had a grin and a raised eyebrow.

"What?" Vincent looked down and... holy shit.

Were those gills?!

That... explained so much.

He began coughing again and Alastor hummed.

"You have some fuzz stuck in one of your gills." He gently lowered his claw and managed to grab the intrusion with surgeon like precision. He pulled it out and flicked it away.

A deep inhale... and a long satisfying exhale. FINALLY a full breath. He let his claws linger near his left side and could physically feel the exhale flutter against his palm.

"Oh, that feels so damn good." Another long breath as his shoulders slumped. "I haven't been able to breathe fully since I got here."

"Well I certainly don't mind the view," Alastor cooed, his voice dripping in flirtation. "Feel free to remain in this level of dress until we fetch you a more breathable material."

"Don't have to tell me twice." Vincent grinned and gently cupped the back of Alastor's head. "Now come here, Doll."

"I suppose if you insist." His voice was all play and no bite, faux-reluctance meant to tease and nothing more.

As Alastor leaned in, a fear flicked in Vincent's mind. He wasn't able to eat... please let him be able to-

Alastor's lips met cold smooth glass.

"NO!" Vincent shouted much too loud, to the point Alastor flinched minutely. "Come on Hell, you can't take kissing away from me too!"

Alastor pulled back with a puzzled expression. "Ah, that is... a problem."

"No fucking shit! I can't kiss you? This really is Hell!"

"We'll figure it out dear."

Alastor was harshly interrupted by Vincent half-angry half-devastated ramblings.

"Al, I knew I was going to have trouble the moment Rosie offered me food. And, go figure, when I tried, I couldn't eat or drink anything. I KNEW I should've gone and gotten eaten by a shark or something. Even if I turned into a little guppy at least I could've eaten and drank and KISSED! This isn't fair. I should-"

Apparently for interrupting his partner, Vincent's own body decided to interrupt him... with a loud grumbling of his stomach.

Vincent cringed and held a hand to his face. Why did today have to be so damn embarrassing?

"Darling, that sound there proves your body does expect you to eat, meaning you do have a way to do so."

"How the Hell am I supposed to make food phase through glass?"

Alastor hummed. That was a specific kind of hum. The 'I have an idea that I'm not going to tell Vincent' kind of hum.

And even worse, the hum was immediately followed up by the 'I'm about to fuck with Vincent' grin.

"What are you thinking?" He asked, voice dripping with suspicion.

That grin widened. Oh no.

He was abruptly slammed into the wall behind him, their chests pressed together and Alastor's hot breath on his screen.

"About how I'm going to explore every inch of this new body. Thoroughly."

The growl on that last word was downright sinful.

It was like the AC never existed with how hot he burned in that moment.

"How does that sound, mon cher?"

Fuck Alastor's French always did something for him. This was not fair.

Before he could respond Alastor lunged in, mouth taking his. Their tongues were joined in an instant, in a fiery dance like let molten heat flow through his veins. Steam began puffing from his gills and his heart was pounding with excitement.

Alastor pulled away a bit. Vincent tried to chase him but was stopped.

"Squeaks. Did you notice something?"

Less talking more kissing. That was all that was in his head, until he opened his eyes to that annoyingly smug grin.

"N-Notice?"

"Your mouth, dear."

He blinked. His mouth?

"Wait... wait our tongues... you-!" Vincent sputtered with wide eyes, and Alastor looked back with a smug ass grin.

"Exactly as I suspected."

"What?!"

"The reason you've been unable to use your mouth is because you expected there to be a barrier, so there was. When I made you think with your, ahem, other head... you no longer had that expectation."

He rolled his eyes. He could not care less about his mouth unless it was touching Alastor's "Okay, yes, point taken, can we get back to-"

Alastor stepped away, dropping Vincent so suddenly he very nearly buckled to the floor.

"First we need to take care of your stomach. To the kitchen."

A pitiful whine escaped him before he could smother it. That smug fuck. With a dramatic groan he shuffled into the kitchen where Alastor was already pulling out ingredients.

"I'm hurt, are you saying you didn't miss my cooking?"

"You know damn well that's not the case."

Alastor was very clearly way too happy with himself. "Then why the long face? If you don't come in and help me out you might hurt my feelings."

Such a condescending little lilt he added there. Vincent rolled his eyes.

"You're lucky I love you." He said as he walked into the kitchen.

"You're not wrong, dear." He placed a quick chaste kiss on his screen, just above his eye. Vincent couldn't help his giddy grin beneath the loving affection.

"So what are we cooking? Do we even get pork or beef down here?"

"Not exactly." Alastor set some... what he assumed to be vegetables on a cutting board.

Vincent washed his hands at the sink, minding his shiny new metallic claws, and then grabbed a knife. The same type Alastor had taught him to use, in the same drawer as their house on Earth.

"Hell's cuisine is quite unique. There's the meat from Hell's fauna such as hellboar, and well as its flora. The wrath ring is full of farmers who provide crops to the rest of the rings, but they're not what we're used to. Each plant in Hell typically has a real-world equivalent." He pointed at the three different vegetables he had laid out in front of Vincent. "Onion. Bell pepper. Celery."

They very much did not look like what Alastor had labelled them. The onion was orange and spotted, the bell pepper was covered in thorns, and the celery had an eye blinking amongst the leaves at the end of the stalk.

"They taste and function the same in cooking and the hellborne just call them by their Earth's equivalent name. Just be sure to take off the thorns and put the eye aside for me to eat on its own."

Vincent grimaced but acquiesced, starting by removing the thorns of the 'bell pepper'.

"I have some meat I've been saving for a special occasion." Vincent looked up to see Alastor batting his eyelashes. "I don't suppose you're in the mood for seafood gumbo?"

Alastor always claimed to not be sentimental, but here he was suggesting the very first meal they made together. It was no coincidence and they both knew it.

"Holy shit, always." Vincent groaned just imagining the taste. He had been cooking after he first summoned Alastor, but it just wasn't the same. He never was able to quite reach the same balance of flavor and texture Alastor accomplished effortlessly. "Is there some Hell-fish we're eating?"

"In a way."

Vincent didn't like that tone.

Alastor walked into the garage for a moment, leaving Vincent to silently continue de-thorning the bell pepper.

When he came back, he was carrying a colossal crab leg. It was almost as big as he was!

"What the- are there just giant Hell crabs that people fish up?"

"Negative." Alastor plopped the shelled appendage down on the counter with a huff. "Hell's fauna are difficult to get a hold of, and they lack proper seafood. Fortunately, the inhabitants of the envy ring are all aquatic."

Vincent's movements halted suddenly. "Wait so... this was a person?"

"A hellborne yes."

Alastor was way too nonchalant about this.

"I thought sinners couldn't go to envy?"

"We can't. But the assassin I employ can."

"You have an assasin working for you?"

"Indeed! Her name is Coral, a lovely little worker, she is. I pay her to bring me hellborne from other rings, giving me a delightful array of new meat to work with."

Vincent grimaced. "Al... you know how I feel about cannibalism. Good for you, but..."

He was interrupted quite harshly. "You're not eating human. You're eating hellborne. This was a giant crab demon. Are you telling me you don't miss the taste of freshly prepared crab in steaming hot gumbo?"

Oh fuck him for making his mouth water like that...

Vincent grit his teeth, fighting between his disgust and his appetite. "I guess it's not technically cannibalism..."

"Of course not!" He replied way too happily. "And since I'm so kind, I'll prepare the meat on my own. You focus on the veggies."

As Vincent began chopping the de-thorned bell pepper, Alastor began humming a nostalgic tune.

'You're Never Fully Dressed Without A Smile' was the name, an old jaunty melody that Alastor adored.

One time it had come on as a jingle on a tv show Vincent had been watching after Alastor's death and he had broke down sobbing.

Now it settled something fuzzy and warm deep into his bones. It had been years since they cooked in the same kitchen, but their rhythm hadn't fizzled out. They exchanged ingredients and words as easy breathing, moving around the counters and stove in perfect sync, stealing kisses and pokes every so often that did nothing but feed into the comfortable silly atmosphere.

The meat was removed from the shell in record time, soon joining the sautéed vegetables and broth in the pot. The rice was cooking separately, steaming to be perfectly fluffy right when the broth was finished.

The smell was incredible. He had cooked gumbo on his own before, but it was never the same. Now he was having to check his mouth to ensure he wasn't drooling on the floor.

His stomach announced its emptiness with another loud rumble, causing him to smile sheepishly as Alastor chuckled in amusement.

He leaned down to stare directly at his belly and gave it a light poke. "Patience, you unruly thing. You cannot rush good gumbo."

Vincent giggled at the silly gesture, gently swatting away Alastor's intruding claw.

As his partner returned to a gentle stir to ensure a lack of burning, Vincent came up behind him and wrapped his arms around his torso.

"Hey, beautiful." He purred.

"I turn my attention away for 5 seconds and you're already needing it again." His voice was light and playful. Vincent could practically hear his smirk.

"I've gone years only getting your attention for two hours every other week. Sue me for being needy." He nuzzled his screen into Alastor's hair, placing a gentle kiss to the back of his head. There was a light fizzling sound. When he pulled back, Alastor's hair was standing on end.

Just like a CRT, his face was giving off static.

He tried to hold it back, he really did, but he couldn't help but crack up.

"What are you giggling about back there?"

"Wahahait- wahahait wahahait hohold ohon..." Vincent beamed and slowly brought his hand up... before rapidly rubbing it over the top of Alastor's head.

"What the- What are you-?!" Alastor stepped away and glared at him.

Vincent. Lost it.

"PFFFT- Ohoho my GOHOD! Yohohou- Ahahahaha!" He cackled, pointing at the hysterical sight in front of him.

All of Alastor's hair, including the fur on his ears, were poofed up like a freshly blow dried poodle.

As he laughed, he felt a... new sensation. His new limb, his tail... it was wagging like a dog's. The cable whipped back and forth, his glee fueling it without his say-so.

Alastor, following the direction of his finger-pointing, held his hand to his head and felt his hair sticking up. He rolled his eyes and touched the metal handle of the oven, flinching minutely at the loud shock of static electricity. His hair began falling back into its natural state, but it was taking its sweet time to do so.

"Ha-ha," He said sarcastically.

Vincent didn't stop giggling, in fact, it turned to full on laughter, the kind where you clutch your stomach as your shoulders shake and eyes tear up. And the harder he laughed, the harder his tail wagged, becoming a hurricane of black plastic and rubber to watch out for.

Alastor didn't look annoyed in the slightest, instead appearing deeply affectionate and downright sappy.

"Normally I would retaliate in some manner, but I am not risking burning this gumbo. Once your belly is full we'll discuss your... antics."

That tone, those words, that mischievous grin...

Vincent was about to do a whole lot more laughing tonight. He slowly calmed down and started catching his breath, feeling his tail start to slow as well. He needed to save his abdominal muscles for the workout they'd be getting later.

Alastor turned back to the stove, giving a few light stirs to the food in the pot before nodding. "Alright. It's finished."

Vincent hadn't scrambled for a bowl so eagerly in years. He scooped some of the rice into his dish and held it out for Alastor to pour the rest of his meal into it. Vincent could feel his mouth salivating looking at that perfect bowl of food, steaming and juicy with that incredible aroma.

Alastor made his own bowl and they sat at the table.

Just like all those years ago.

He looked up at his partner. Something still felt wrong seeing such a different face and form, but he knew it was still the same man there.

Even if he missed his curls and small build so deeply.

"Well, dig in."

Vincent did not need to be told twice. He eagerly plunged his spoon into the bowl, scooping up bits of crab, rice, and a dripping coating of sauce, and held it up to his screen, hesitating a moment.

"Don't overthink it. Close your eyes, and eat."

Vincent took a deep breath, opened his mouth, shut his eyes...

The spoon slipped into his mouth. The explosive taste caused him to groan in delight. Each chew gave another burst of flavor on his tongue. Such a nostalgic taste. So savory, so juicy, so warm.

"Judging by you moaning over there I'd say the dish is a success."

Vincent jolted, nearly choking as his face flushed with embarrassment. He swallowed and smiled sheepishly. "S-Sorry."

Alastor squinted at him, like he was analyzing something. "Your blush is blue now."

"Oh! Yeah, uh, Rosie pointed that out too."

He hummed. "I'm going to miss the pink... and the freckles."

"My freckles are gone?" Vincent blinked in surprise. "I really need a mirror to see what I look like now."

"After dinner, dear." Alastor began eating his own serving, smiling happily at the successful meal. "Now tell me, how'd you find your way down to Hell today? Don't tell me a TV fell on your head."

Vincent's silence and and embarrassed expression said it all.

Alastor snorted and laughed loudly. "Really? What? Did you hang a tv above you?"

More silent stewing.

Alastor pounded his fist on the table as he cackled. "Squeaks, what on Earth made you do something like that?!"

"It seemed great at the time!" He shouted. "I told you I was doing a new ritual for the cult. The baptism type thing. The Tvs were all hung overhead to create a mesmerizing and symbolic image. Multiple cameras broadcasted me from every angle on every television. I was their God! They needed to see all of me! Above them!" Vincent rambled, grin large and eyes manic.

And he just had to take the wind out of his sails with a smug grin. "And theeeeen?"

Vincent huffed and shoved another spoonful in his mouth before swallowing. "A wire snapped and one fell on my head."

Another amused snort.

"Okay, yeah, funny, it still fucking hurt."

"As did my bullet wound. Though I imagine my pain was far quicker than yours."

"By a long shot. Felt like I was a ragdoll being tugged through a flaming shredder for like, a thousand years."

"Mm, of course."

"I was really excited about the cult too. I've never felt closer to being a God. They all worshipped me, Al! And with my network being one of the first to adapt technicolor, oh we were going places. Fame, fortune, the whole shebang!"

Vincent continued to ramble, and Alastor listened with that soft genuine smile.

Alastor had told him before how he loved his ambition and vision. He'd always listen to him talk big about dreams and the future.

It felt so familiar.

Here he was, a TV-headed demon, talking to his partner who was now a bipedal deer, and yet it still felt like old times.

The conversation flowed like an signature drink from your favorite bar, always the same but fresh every single time. Alastor got a deeper story of what exactly transpired earlier today, and Vincent got a detailed refresher on the inner machinations of Hell's society.

"Tomorrow we'll start you a plan of collecting souls," Alastor spoke between his final spoonfuls of dinner. "You'll make a fantastic overlord some day. I'm eager to see the day we both walk into an overlord's meeting."

Vincent's face fell a bit. "Yeah. We still have to hide until then, huh?" His spoon clinked his near empty bowl. It didn't matter. He was just moving bits of sauce around at this point.

Alastor was quiet for a moment before speaking softly. "I know you hate hiding our relationship."

He huffed in acknowledgement.

"But we have eternity down here. What may take years will be nothing in the grand scheme of things."

Vincent stared deeper into his bowl as if it had some kind of answer. "I'm not very patient."

"We're keeping this quiet because I can't bare the thought of you being abducted and tortured for having ties to me, and you being too weak to protect yourself. You'll gain your strength, I know you will."

Vincent sighed. He knew this all along. He knew this would be how it had to be.

It still hurt.

Alastor abruptly stood from his chair, letting it squeak across the tiled floor. He walked over to Vincent with an unreadable expression.

"I make this vow to you... when I am confident you can protect yourself, when you earn your way to your first overlord meeting, I will be there, and I will introduce us as we are... life partners." He stuck his hand out and it crackled in green. Winds picked up from nowhere and howled around them.

Vincent looked up and met Alastor's eyes. He smiled, and used his index finger to push Alastor's hand down.

"I don't need a deal on this. I trust your word as it is. We're demons, sure, but we're partners first. If you say you'll do this, I take your word."

Alastor smiled wide. "Naive of you."

"No," He stood to match Alastor's height. "You've proven it already. Those years ago, you promised us to be each others through life and beyond. And you kept your promise. Here in the beyond, we're here together. I don't need a deal to trust you, Al."

Alastor scoffed playfully. "Sentimental nonsense."

"It's your sentimental nonsense, asshole." He leaned forward and placed a fizzling kiss on Alastor's nose. "I hate hiding. It kills me every time I have to pretend that you're a business associate or that I don't know you. But I understand. This will just motivate me to climb to the top even faster."

"There's my little tyrant." Alastor purred, leaning in for a loving kiss. This one lasted a while, the both of them taking their sweet time just enjoying the contact.

When he pulled away, Vincent was beaming. "And hey, at least now I don't have to pretend to have girlfriends for parties and shit. Small victories."

Alastor snorted and draped his arms around Vincent's neck. "I had no idea I was living with an optimist."

"I'm a realist."

"Or a narcissist."

Vincent chuckled. Then laughed. Then cackled.

He was here. Finally here. Alastor in his arms. And it wasn't going to end this time. He was staying. They were home.

#radiostatic #fic #fanfic #alastor #vox #murdermedia #sparks duo #fluff #hazbin hotel

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