Summary: Alastor discovers how much his southern accent and French affect you… and uses it to his advantage.
Type: Romantic, Headcanon.
Warning:Intense flirting, deep voice, melting accents, stable relationship
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The day had been long and peaceful, and the house was enveloped in a gentle silence, the kind of silence that only exists when the person you love is near. You were in the kitchen tidying up, taking your time, enjoying the simplicity of the moment. The warmth of New Orleans drifted in through the window, mingling with the sweet aroma of wood and coffee.
You heard the front door open.
Alastor was back. His footsteps were unmistakable: light, elegant, almost musical. But when he spoke, you froze instantly.
"Afternoon, darling."
The Southern accent hit you full force, warm, deep, smooth like melting honey. You felt a shiver run down your spine so quickly that your hand went limp and you almost dropped the plate you were drying.
Alastor noticed it immediately. He always did.
"Everything alright here?" "—he asked as he entered the kitchen, his smile calm and that mischievous glint hidden behind his eyes.
You swallowed, trying to compose yourself.
"Yes… yes, I'm fine. I was just… surprised."
He approached slowly, like someone approaching a small animal they want to observe closely without scaring it. Or, in his case, like a man who had just discovered that his voice could make you tremble.
"Were you surprised… by what exactly?" he asked, leaning slightly forward to get a better look.
You looked away, feeling the heat rise to your cheeks.
"By… by your accent."
Alastor's smile became slow, satisfied, dangerously charming.
"Does my southern accent bother you?" he asked, moving even closer.
" "I-I didn't say that…"
He chuckled softly and took you by the waist, with a gentleness that contrasted with the firmness of his fingers.
"No, you didn't say it. But you showed it very well," he whispered near your ear.
Your knees almost buckled. Alastor felt it. He held you tighter, as if he'd been expecting it.
"Careful, my love… if you react like this to a word, I don't know what I'll do to you," he murmured with that marked, slow, delicious accent.
You hid your face in his chest, utterly embarrassed. And he chuckled softly, completely pleased.
Later, you were in the living room. You were trying to concentrate on a book, but he moved around the room with that irritatingly perfect elegance, as if he knew you were watching him out of the corner of your eye.
At one point, he needed a notebook and asked you:
"Pass me la petite noire, ma chérie…"
The sound of the French words struck you like lightning. Your breath caught in your throat. The book slipped from your hands and fell to the floor with a thud.
Alastor looked up immediately.
And when he saw your wide eyes, your flushed cheeks, and your mouth trembling, speechless… He set the notebook aside and walked slowly toward you, savoring every step. He crouched down to your level and placed a hand on your knee.
"Cherie… is everything alright?"
You didn't answer. It was impossible. Your throat wouldn't allow it.
He brought his face close to yours. His nose brushed your cheek. His warm breath caressed your ear.
"Does my French make you feel this way…?" he asked in a low, deep voice.
You let out a sound you didn't even know you were capable of. A small moan mixed with nervous laughter. Something completely involuntary.
Alastor smiled, sliding his hand up your thigh to help you keep from falling off the chair.
"God… you're adorable," he whispered.
He took you by the waist and pulled you toward him, sitting you on his lap as if it were the most natural thing in the world. Your legs trembled. He placed one hand on your back, the other on your thigh, holding you steady.
"If you only knew what it does to me to see you like this…" he said, this time in French, soft, slow, dangerously intimate, "viens ici, mon cœur…"
You clung to his shirt. Your chest rose and fell rapidly. You were far, far from being able to maintain any dignity.
He knew it. And he chuckled softly, a mixture of tenderness and mischief in his voice.
“My love…” he whispered, his lips brushing your neck without quite kissing you. “If I can melt you just by talking… imagine what I could do if I really wanted to.”
Your nails dug into his shoulder. He tilted his head, savoring every micro-reaction.
“Do you want me to keep talking?” he asked.
“Do you want… a little more of my accent?
Or… do you prefer my French, hm?”
The way your body responded was all the answer he needed. And he, smiling like the elegant devil he was even in human form, rested his forehead against yours and murmured:
“Very well, darling… Then I’m not going to stop talking at all.”
i love when the vks and Ben get into the cottage, and they hear Chad banging on the door, Harry follows Ben to the closest door, he positions himself behind Ben to defend Ben if necessary.
its the little things (aka D3 Harry mini analysis)
like here, when Ben goes to look inside the closet, you can see Harry sliding into place, Harry does this before anyone else
Jay doesnt move, Carlos doesnt move, Mal doesnt even try to tell Ben not to open it, but Harry HARRY, Mr i wanna hook the king, is the first to step up and be at Ben’s back, to protect him.
and then when both Ben and Harry see its chad, someone who isnt a threat (supposedly) Harry relaxes, he straightens up from his attack stance, Ben has acknowledged Chad isnt a threat (with how Ben’s body relaxes and how calmly he responds to chad) and so Harry relaxes
so Harry goes from protect/attack mode to passive protect. he stays at Ben’s back, keeping his eyes on chad just in case, he stands there in a way that tells me “make one wrong move and i will hurt you”
like LOOK AT HOW BIG HARRY LOOKS COMPARED TO CHAD AND BEN, i know its forced perspective, but Harry looks fucking massive, he is a guard, a right hand man, a protector. his head is tilted down to give that menacing stare, his arms are ready to grab or hit, his legs are ready to launch himself to protect. at this point, for all we know, Harry is still meh about Ben, but he knows Ben is going to let them stay, he has to, they are helping save Auradon. and he knows Uma now sees Ben as an allay, so Harry protects him, he protects everyone.
Harry doesn’t lose this protective stance until Chad rushes out of the house and Ben walks past, Harry fully relaxes, he laughs, he turns his eyes away, and he closes the door.
but Harry is the last one out of the house, he stays back, he is still the protector, he keeps his eyes on everyone to make sure everyone is safe, he looks behind to check the cottage again, to check on carlos, he looks at everyone, he keeps his eyes on Uma the longest, Harry is a protector and i love that about him. (also he does a lil flip with his hook that ive somehow never noticed and omfg you cutie pie i love you)
god Thomas does such a damn good job all this from simple body acting.
Drew him of how he would look like if he was redeemed, he still has his TV head of course he just switches them however he wants just like the seraphims switching their true form, I like to think in this au he would be the kind of first ever "overlord" of angels (idk what to call overlords in angel name 😭✌️) anyways I'm just curious lol I'm no writer
tangentwithtanner
titsay
stormborns
ellievsbear
blakekathryn
