The Way Alastor Cares (Even If He Doesn’t Know It) I Alastor Headcannons
𐂂 𖤐 𐂂 𖤐 𐂂 𖤐 𐂂
𐂂 𖤐 𐂂 𖤐 𐂂 𖤐 𐂂
⚠️ Important basis: Alastor is canonically aromantic and asexual. He doesn't understand romantic feelings — he even despises them a little. What he feels for you has no name he knows. And that deeply irritates him. This is not a classic romance. This is something darker, stranger, more real — for him.
🎙️ Control is his language
1. He is not jealous in the human sense. He feels something he internally categorizes as "a disruption of his order." When someone else has your attention, it is simply a variable that doesn't fit into his plan. And Alastor hates variables.
2. He would never admit that he finds you interesting — not even to himself. He rationalizes it. "She is useful." "She is amusing." "She is an interesting observation." He has an entire system of excuses. He doesn't fully believe any of them.
3. When someone flirts with you, he doesn't intervene — not immediately. He observes first. With that smile. Tilting his head slightly like an animal sizing something up. And then, at the most uncomfortable moment, he is suddenly there — not between you, but beside you, one step too close, saying something completely harmless in that warm broadcaster's voice. Which makes the person disappear all the same.
4. He understands jealousy as a concept — he has studied it in humans, observed it, exploited it. But that he feels it? That is as foreign to him as a radio signal from another dimension. When the crackling in his chest comes, he calls it "irritation" and goes for a walk.
5. Control is for Alastor a form of affection — the only one he knows. He doesn't care for you with words. He makes sure the world around you is safe. Silently. Invisibly. The way a radio network exists — you don't see it, but it carries every signal you send.
🦌 The Predator
6. He is a serial killer. That part is always present. When someone threatens you, something in him switches — no rage, no chaos. Cold. Precise. That quiet, predatory interest he normally reserves for foreign souls turns entirely toward the threat. The result is rarely pretty.
7. His shadows react to you before he does. When you are nervous, they drift toward you. Not on his command — just like that. He has noticed. He has done nothing about it. That says everything.
8. He has reserved a quiet frequency for you in his radio network. No music, no content — just an open channel that tells him where you are, whether you are safe. You know nothing about it. He would call it "efficient resource management."
9. Voodoo is for him a tool, not an emotion. But he has discreetly ensured that no other voodoo practitioner can ever influence you. A small counter-spell network he built up quickly once. He never mentioned it again. He almost never thinks about it. Almost.
🎭 The Man from the 1930s
10. He is 1930s New Orleans in every fiber — excessively polite, formal, theatrical. He doesn't understand modern emotional language and has no desire to. When you say "I like you," he blinks at you like a record being played backwards. Then says: "How charming." And changes the subject.
11. He calls you by old-fashioned pet names — "my dear," "mon cher," "my child" — that sound condescending coming from others, but carry a different quality with you. Softer. Less performance. Does he notice? No. Not yet.
12. He brings you things he considers valuable — old records, a book from the early 20th century, a peculiar botanical amulet from New Orleans. Nothing modern. He lives in his own time capsule, and when he welcomes you into it, that is more than most ever receive.
13. Silence with him is not emptiness. He sometimes simply sits near you, listens to the radio, says nothing. That is for Alastor the most relaxed form of company — no expectations, no social scripts. When he does that with you, he trusts you in a way he himself could not name.
🖤 The Darkness
14. He manipulates — that is his natural state. But over time you notice that he manipulates you less than others. Still a little. Alastor can't help it. But the big moves, the strategic lies — he saves those. That is as close to honesty as it gets with him.
15. He finds romantic feelings ridiculous. When other characters in the hotel fall in love, he comments on it with mild disgust and genuine incomprehension. Which makes it all the more unsettling for him when he realizes he knows your daily schedule. Your habits. Your favorite moments of the day. When did he learn that?
16. He would never start a conversation about feelings. When you start one, he listens — with that slightly tilted head, the smile that reveals nothing behind it. And then he says something like: "How fascinating that mortals assign such weight to these constructs." But he doesn't leave. He stays seated. Keeps listening.
17. He has a dossier on you. Mental. Precise. Complete. Every mention, every reaction, every weakness, every strength. Originally compiled for strategic reasons — that's how he treats everyone. But yours is... more detailed. More current. He updates it more often than necessary.
18. When you are in real danger — not just discomfort, but genuine danger — the performance stops. The smile stays, but the warmth behind it disappears. What remains is the thing he truly is: a creature that hunted humans for decades, that knows Hell like no other, that would not hesitate for a single second. You don't want to see what happens to the threat afterward.
📻 What He Never Says
19. "I need you" — that phrase does not exist in his vocabulary. But he keeps coming back. To you, to your proximity, to your conversation. Without an agenda. For Alastor, that is the same thing.
20. He doesn't understand what he feels — and that is canonically the most unsettling part. He has been dead for decades, has killed thousands, has closed deals with powerful entities, has destroyed entire overlord dynasties. And you are the first thing since his death that truly throws him off. One being. One person. This one, strange, unexpected exception.
21. He would not close a deal for you. Deals are power games — that would be too simple, too clear. What he truly does is subtler and more honest: he chooses to be near you, even though he needs no one. For a man who rules Hell entirely alone — that is confession enough.
22. When you die — truly, finally — he would be the last to show it. But his radio station would have an hour of silence that evening. No music. No broadcast. Only static. And no one in Hell would dare bring it up.
He doesn't love you the way books describe it. He loves you the way Alastor can — quietly, darkly, absolutely, and without a name for it.
📻🥀
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