Small-time Author and Artist; No Pronoun Preference; 20+ Only blog. Donât like it? DONâT READ IT. I reserve the right to write and post what I like, thank you very much. Harassment of any kind will result in an immediate BLOCK.
Alastor seems to be holding back, and you decide to get to the bottom of it.
Pairings: Alastor x Reader
Warnings: None, but thereâs kissing and it gets a TINY bit steamy at the end
A/N: alastorâs asexuality is touched upon but not named since i didnât think he would have a word for it, and i am not totally sure his preferences have been confirmed? but i think he could get a little romantic with it if he had someone he trusted, so thereâs a lot of fluff and sweetness
//
The ceiling of Alastorâs bedroom shimmered slightly at the corners. Youâd never noticed it before, but then youâd never sprawled out on his favourite chaise before either.Â
Soft music drifted from the gramophone in the corner as you propped your head up on one of his stupidly lavish cushions and looked again, skirting your gaze around the room.Â
The illusion heâd created, this perfect recreation of his bayou home, was absolutely faultless in every detail, apart from this oddly hypnotising glitch at the very edges. If you stared for too long, the room appeared to breathe in and out, like the image was alive.
After a while, staring at it made you feel queasy, so you dropped your gaze again and watched a firefly dance by the hearth instead.Â
Alastor was still at work. At least, thatâs what he called it. And you supposed, it was like having a job of sorts, except he wasnât paid to do it, nobody asked him to broadcast, and people were generally quite relieved when he stopped. You never knew whose last words might be heard between Ella Fitzgerald and Cab Calloway.
Heâd given you a key to his room after your first month together. An anniversary present of sorts. If you went in for that sort of thing, which Alastor surprisingly did.Â
With a sly smile, heâd slipped the heavy brass key into your palm and closed your fingers around it.
âYou can come and go as you please, amour. Though some warning would be appreciated, if at all possible. I wouldnât want you walking in before Iâve had the chance to tidy up.â He tapped the end of your nose. âAnd donât get any funny ideas about slipping into my bed in the middle of the night. I may be a demon, but some things just arenât proper.â
You rolled your eyes at that.
âGod knows, youâre so irresistible, Alastor. Iâm not sure how Iâll cope.â
âExactly. Hands to yourself, cher. Iâve been warned about you modern women.â
His baseline static flickered, and in its place, a canned laugh track zoomed past your ears.
You just shook your head, not even trying to pretend to be annoyed. You were never very good at that when it came to Alastor. Somehow, he always managed to make you laugh, even when you were trying your hardest to find him irritating.Â
Even though heâd said you could visit his apartments whenever you pleased, even when he wasnât there, you did try your best not to push it too far. It was difficult, though.Â
Alastorâs rooms were more than twice the size of your own, even without the illusion he had cast. His furniture was ridiculously comfortable, and even though the lack of reception had bothered you at first, it soon became a haven from the chaotic world youâd fallen into.Â
You stretched out like a cat and turned over onto your belly, yawning so wide that you almost swallowed the firefly as it floated past you.Â
The fire was already burning in the grate when you snuck in, filling the room with a welcoming warmth, as if Alastor had anticipated your arrival. It made you feel drowsy almost immediately, its soft crackling a lullaby all of its own. Youâd intended to surprise Alastor, but somehow you didnât think youâd be able to stay awake. Still, itâs the thought that counts.Â
Catching the attention of the hotelâs resident Overlord had never been your intention.Â
Hell brought new trials and tribulations with every sunrise, which was rather the point. Burning cars, gang wars in the streets, Exterminations, murder, violence, pain. Though discomforting at first, it all sank to ubiquity after a few years. This job was supposed to be a break from that. You didnât expect to find a family and a home, and you certainly could never have anticipated falling for Alastor.Â
It was difficult to pinpoint when his interest in you started; you supposed you were both in the middle before you even knew it had begun.Â
You remembered thinking he was a little ridiculous at first, especially for someone so fearsome. Whenever he passed by the front desk, Alastor never failed to call out an exuberant greeting to you, usually loud enough to make everyone in the lobby look in your direction.Â
Silly as it was, it did charm you. Just a bit. Manners were rare in Hell, and even if Alastorâs usually hid an ulterior motive, it was always nice to hear his lovely voice calling out âgood morning, my dear!â to you from across the foyer, before he slipped out the door to do Satan knows what.
He was introduced to you as the facilities manager, but Alastor seemed to drum up a new title for himself every week. He would give himself promotion after promotion, whatever was necessary to garner the influence he desired, and when he needed an excuse to not get involved, his job title abruptly dropped several rungs, for a few hours anyway.Â
And for some reason, everyone let him get away with it. You supposed the other residents were keen to appease the hotelâs largest benefactor, or they were too frightened to challenge him, or they simply did not care what Alastor did, so long as it didnât involve them.Â
You hovered between these three categories for a while, varying your attitude to match Alastorâs moods, which shifted from day to day with an unpredictability that was frankly unnerving. Â
After a while, he became more of a nuisance than anything. Oh, he liked to play the mysterious Overlord, but youâd met plenty of supercilious men like him before, in life and in death, and would not be mystified by a winning smile and rumours whispered behind hands.
Eventually, these small courtesies grew to idle chat. For someone who claimed to be outrageously overworked and far too important to worry about anything he deemed beneath him, Alastor sure found a lot of time to linger around the front desk.Â
He began by asking fairly routine questions, how many guests had booked in that week, if any tasks required his attention, that sort of thing.
âAs host, I should be kept up to date with all the comings and goings, donât you think?â
You just smiled and reeled off everything you thought might be relevant to Alastorâs duties, whatever he thought they were that week.Â
He never made any notes, in fact, he hardly seemed to listen at all. When you had finished and were fumbling for something more to say to satiate his curious expression, Alastor interrupted you with a bright laugh.
âVery good, very good, yes! Keep up the good work, my dear.â
You stared at his back as he strode off, bewildered, and a little relieved that the interaction was over. Being close to Alastor felt like holding your hand over a lit candle. Stay there too long, and you could sear the skin of your palm. But the warmth, and the beguiling, exciting stab of danger, were worth it.Â
Soon these check-ins grew longer, and before you knew it, Alastor began to hang around the front desk, as if he had nothing better to do.Â
He did most of the talking, at first. He was made for radio. It would take an army to make Alastor stop chattering. You couldn't help wondering how he managed it, and had been caught staring curiously at his mouth several times.
Alastor would pause suddenly, jaws open, showing off his fearsome teeth. His painted-on smile would soften into something a little more real, and heâd reach across the desk to tap the end of your nose.Â
âSee something you like, dear?â heâd say, eyebrows raised.
You just scoffed and rolled your eyes, making some half-assed dig about how he was distracting you from your work, and anyway, didnât he have something better to do than bother you?Â
All the while, Alastor just smiled, before continuing his monologue.Â
He hovered by the front desk most days. The only time he paused for breath was when you had to help a guest, and even then, he watched your every move with bright, incisive eyes, like a cat with a mouse.
One morning, he finally broke through the barrier that separated you and slipped behind the desk, under the guise that he was helping you with paperwork.Â
Alastor insisted that there be no digitisation at the hotel, and after everything that had happened to him, you understood his distaste. But it meant that your desk was constantly covered in countless sheets of paper, no matter how hard you tried to keep the place organised.Â
Of course, Alastor was no help whatsoever.Â
He picked up random scraps, holding them close to his face so that he could read the blurred black type.
âMy dear, this is hardly legible,â he teased.
âIâm still getting to grips with it.â You eyed the typewriter that took up most of your desk. âYou know, they make electric keyboards. It wouldnât even need to have a screen, I could just-âÂ
âDonât give up now! Not when youâre just getting the hang of it!â
You huffed and shook your head, but couldnât keep back a smile.Â
He was absolutely ridiculous. It was pointless arguing with Alastor, but he seemed to enjoy it as much as you did.
He pulled another sheet of paper closer, holding it right up to his face until his nose was practically pressed against the page. It was an invoice for the last food delivery, so he didnât have the excuse of your poor typing skills to blame.Â
Youâd always thought his monocle was just for show. You didnât know much about fashion from Alastorâs time, but it had always been your understanding that they were more of a statement than anything useful. But perhaps his eyesight truly was quite poor.Â
You smiled to yourself.
âHaving trouble, old man?â
Alastor narrowed his eyes down at you, then flicked his gaze back to the invoice.
âIâll have you know, my eyes failed me long before I ever got the chance to actually get old. Actually, Iâm fairly certain I may be younger than you, dear.â
âDonât ever say that again.â You pulled a face. âYou know, I could get you some proper glasses.â
âDonât be ridiculous. I can see just fine, thank you very much.â
âYou sure? They might help. Plus, all the better to see me with.â
At that, Alastorâs gaze slipped to you again, though now something new glinted in his eyes, something uncharacteristically soft.Â
âWell, now thereâs a persuasive argument.â
Immediately, your face began to burn. You hadnât meant to suggest anything, it just slipped out. You hadnât been thinking at all.Â
But thatâs how Alastor always got you to admit to things you might not have said otherwise, he made you comfortable and then let you confess without any effort at all. Itâs how he found out where you were born, when you came to Hell, and what you did with yourself for all those years before seeing an advertisement for the hotel.Â
You pressed your lips together, embarrassed, and watched his gaze drop to your mouth. It was so fleeting, you almost could have convinced yourself you were imagining things if Alastor hadnât looked so guilty afterwards.Â
After that, he found all sorts of excuses to be close to you. Alastor hovered over you while you worked, double-checking your decisions and asking endless, pointless questions.Â
He sat beside you at dinner. He was there when you needed help carrying anything, and was always the first to greet you good morning, and the last to bid you goodnight.Â
He opened doors for you, he spoke highly of your work ethic to Charlie, both behind your back and, more frequently (and more embarrassingly), right at the front desk while you were trying to hand out room keys.Â
Guests would approach you, redirected to you by Alastor, not because he was too busy or uninterested, but because, they said, he had said youâd be able to help them better than anyone else could.Â
And all the while, he stood close enough to hear your thudding heart, without ever once touching you. Youâd caught him looking a few times, but those spidery hands of his never once came close to you. That didnât mean you hadnât thought about it. You were only human, and those long fingers of his were endlessly distracting.
You thought it might be some kind of strange intimidation tactic, a way of getting under your skin and to the marrow of you, while still retaining plausible deniability. After a while, you thought maybe Alastor was just bored, and somehow, bothering you was the only way he could think of to keep himself entertained.
This job brought a semblance of balance and routine to an otherwise chaotic existence. And though the hotel itself barely scraped by from day to day, thanks to its lawless guests and even more anarchic staff, this too became the new normal eventually. Alastor provided a welcome sense of excitement.Â
Husk was quick to warn you about how dangerous it could be to catch Alastorâs attention. You appreciated the gesture. If anyone knew what Alastor was capable of, it would be Husk. But the advice had come far too late.Â
Still, you werenât afraid. If Alastor wanted to hurt you, he wouldâve done so already. And if his strange behaviour toward you did mean he had some ulterior motive, it would arrive in your lap whether you entertained his interest in you or not.Â
And, admittedly, you began to enjoy his attention. At first, you thought he was just like this with everyone, but after a slightly tipsy confessional with Angel, youâd found out that that was definitely not the case.Â
After a while, you came to expect the helping hands and soft words he offered you. âRareâ didnât even begin to cover just how scarce genuine kindness and gentleness were in a place like this. It was easy to get addicted to feeling like you mattered to someone after so long without it.
By your sixth month at the hotel, you prided yourself on having a pretty good fix on Alastorâs character. He was as arrogant as he was charming, and as silly as he was frightening. And when he was relaxed, and had no reason to keep up his usual facade, he was nice to talk to.Â
So, when after almost a year of knowing each other, Alastor asked if youâd do him the honour of accompanying him to dinner, the shock sent a shiver up your spine, awakening every part of you that was still clinging to your lost humanity.Â
You stared, lips parting as you slowly processed what Alastor had asked you. Atrophied by routine and the direness of your circumstances, it took your heart several moments to start beating again.Â
He watched you, still smiling, always smiling. Eventually, he leaned forward over the desk, bowing his head so that he might lower his voice away from any prying ears.
âIâve surprised you. I can see that.â He seemed almost giddy at the thought. âApologies, my dear, but Iâve waited long enough.â
âWaitedâŚâ
âWell, Iâve been courting you for the best part of a year now. I know things move a bit quicker nowadays but,â He spread his long fingers, palms open and turned towards the sky. âI wanted to be sure. And Iâm very sure of you, dear. If youâll have me. Iâm⌠Iâm very fond of you.â
That day, you were amazed to find you were very fond of him too.Â
Youâd shared endless arguments about how long youâd officially been together.Â
âOh, itâs been well over a year. Weâre practically an old married couple.â
âFirst of all, we definitely arenât. Second of all, I know you think that,â you said, with valiant calmness. âBut two people cannot be 'dating' if one of them doesnât know theyâre dating.â
âWell, itâs hardly my fault youâre so unobservant, cher.â
That had earned him a bop on the head with the book you were reading. Not hard, but enough to wipe the smug grin off his face for a second.Â
Courting, whatever that meant to Alastor, was still a bit of a mystery to you. He was sweet to you. He took you on dates. He brought you presents. He let you lounge in his radio tower while he was recording, a privilege, youâd been reliably informed, that had been granted to no one in known memory.Â
Still, the exact definition of your relationship evaded you. Youâd asked around, targeting older demons specifically, and had discovered that it did mean dating, but with more intent. Alastor didnât seem like the marrying kind, but this was a commitment all the same. You were his, he was yours, and you were happy.Â
There was only one problem, aside from the natural complications that arose from being the infamous Radio Demonâs partner. He didnât seem to enjoy getting close to you. Alastor was old-fashioned, yes, but you were sure that they had invented kissing by the 1930s. But he never initiated anything, it was always down to you.Â
Again, this wasnât something you minded all that much. Romance had never been high on your list of priorities after arriving in Hell, and itâs not like you were worried about running out of time. An afterlife was a long time to spend with someone, you had no reason to rush, but almost a year without a good kiss? That was a little ridiculous.Â
The first time you tried it, you were tucked into the corner of his favourite sofa together. Behind closed doors, Alastor loved to lounge around with you.Â
It was second nature to you now. Whenever it was just the two of you, he would pull you into his chest and tuck his long arms around your waist, keeping you close. He murmured soft words into your hair, talking about anything and everything, asking about your day and moaning about every minor inconvenience he came across. And all the while, his long fingers pressed into your hip, kneading at you like a kitten taken from its mother too early.Â
He was always so warm, it was enough to distract you from how bony his lanky body felt under yours. He smelt divine too, like Earth and home, and of something dizzyingly addictive. It was all you could do to stop yourself pushing your face into his chest and inhaling a lungful of him.Â
Instead, youâd slipped your fingers around his angular jaw and pressed your lips to his. Nothing crazy, more like a peck than anything.Â
When you pulled away, Alastor stared at you, starry-eyed. Then he gave a half-hearted laugh to hide his surprise and pulled you closer.
âI donât know what I did to deserve that,â he murmured, and kissed the tip of your nose. âBut thank you, amour.â
But that was as far as it went. Lingering touches you knew wanted to go further. Pecks on the cheek when no one was looking. Sometimes, he brushed his long fingers against your jaw and looked at you like he had something he wanted to do, something he wanted to say, but couldnât bring himself to do it.Â
Amongst company, he kept his hands to himself. Alastor still had an image to maintain, plus you didnât think heâd ever be the sort to entertain public displays of affection, even if he didnât have a reputation to stake on it. He always sat close to you though, and on the occasion you were forced into one of Charlieâs group bonding activities, his hand always found yours in secret.
One night in particular stuck in your mind. The group discussion had dissolved fairly quickly into swapping stories from your past lives. By the time you all decided to call it a night, you were all exhausted.Â
Alone in the corridor, you and Alastor slumped off to bed together, your room now just a few doors down from his (at his insistence). His ears were low, his smile relaxed and soft, and he looked so handsome, you hadnât been able to resist.Â
Alastor had folded so easily under your urgent hands. He let you back him up against the wall, his clever mouth open and inviting. You kissed him, overeager but certain, your hands pressed against his chest, while his hung from your hips. Contrary to popular belief, he did have a heart, and it felt frantic under your palm.
Gently, so gently you could have cried, heâd kissed you back, one brief press of his mouth to yours, then another, until youâd completely melted into him.Â
You remembered smiling against his lips, so pleased to finally be allowed in, to see Alastor as so few had.
He whispered your name against your mouth, then swallowed your soft moan with another gentle kiss.Â
But it ended as quickly as it began. Alastor slipped his hands around your arms and carefully moved you away from him. His chest heaved under your palms, his eyes a little too wide. And before you could say anything, Alastor apologised for forgetting himself and suggested you both get some sleep. It was one of the only times you could remember seeing him without a smile.Â
Something had to change. So youâd decided to ambush him today, just like any good partner would.
When you heard the door to his room click, you sat up on the chaise just in time to see Alastor slip in.Â
âWelcome home, honey,â you called out, arms outstretched.
At the sight of you, Alastor visibly relaxed, like youâd cut all his strings. He crossed the floor in three long strides to cradle your face in his hands.Â
âOhh, arenât you a sight for sore eyes.â He brushed his nose against yours, then pressed a kiss to your forehead. âGood evening, sweetheart. Did you miss me?â
âTo the point of tears.âÂ
It was a little joke you shared. Since you lived and worked together in the same building, you never went more than a few hours without seeing each other.Â
âHow was the show?âÂ
âWonderful, as always. Iâll pretend not to be offended that you didnât listen.â
âYou donât like it when I listen! You said itâs embarrassing!â
âYes, well, I was obviously just trying to sound modest.â
âNoted.â You beamed. âIâll tune in next time, dial turned all the way up.âÂ
Pleased, Alastor kissed your cheek before moving towards his bed to get changed into something more comfortable.Â
You watched him, always fascinated by the control he had over his powers. With one wave of an elegant hand, his jacket and tie were gone, and heâd switched his pants out for another, more comfortable pair.Â
âAlastor?â
âMm?â
âAm I the first person youâve dated?â
He turned his head to you, his nose all scrunched up in that way it always did when he was confused.
âWhy do you ask?â
âI just wondered. You know, Iâve noticed, uhâŚâ
Annoyingly, your confidence suddenly vanished, as well as the bullet points youâd been carefully rehearsing all afternoon.Â
Sensing your discomfort, Alastor slipped into the shadows and crossed the room, reappearing beside you on the chaise.Â
âI sense Iâm in trouble. Iâve done something wrong. Which I find hard to believe, considering Iâve been at work all day.â He was teasing you, but there was a flash of worry in his brilliant eyes. âUnless thatâs the problem? I know I havenât been the most present recently, I could spend less-â
âNo, Alastor,â You laughed, and put your hand over his. âIâm very happy. Youâre doing a great job.â
With a big, toothy grin, Alastor visibly relaxed.Â
âI did rather think I was. For exampleâŚâÂ
He swept his hand in a circle. When he flattened out his palm again, a small, delicate flower appeared with a theatrical puff of green smoke.Â
âOh, very well done.â
âI aim to please, cher.â
You rolled your eyes, annoyed with him for always managing to be charming, even when he was being an idiot.Â
Unable to help yourself, you smiled wide enough to match his as Alastor carefully tucked the flower behind your ear.Â
âTo answer your question, yes, you are my first. And without getting too maudlin, I had hoped you might be my last.â
He spoke quietly, his eyes not quite meeting yours, and you wondered if youâd found something that made the all-powerful Radio Demon shy.Â
You caught his hand in yours as he drew back, turning it over in yours so that you could press your thumb to the centre of his palm.Â
âThatâs what I wanted to talk to you about. Last nightâŚâ
Recognition flickered across Alastorâs face. He knew exactly what you were referring to.
âI just wondered if⌠I donât know, is it something Iâm doing wrong? Or is this some old-fashioned idea you have about taking things slow? Or do you just not like kissing?â
He blinked, his pretty eyes wide.Â
Alastor loved to rattle on about how keeping up a smile was the best defence one could have. He prided himself on always appearing serene and calm, he never let anyone see that they'd got to him. Which is why it was so funny that his long, fluffy ears were a dead giveaway to how he was feeling, and right now they were pinned back against his head. That, and the crackle of static that radiated from somewhere in his chest, and into yours.Â
âIâve been ambushed.â
âYouâre being dramatic.â You squeezed his hand. âWhatever it is, itâs fine. And itâs fine if you donât want to kiss me, or anything more. I just want to understand so I can, I donât know, make you feel more comfortable.â
Alastorâs gaze dropped to the velvet that covered the chaise when his long claws audibly pricked the material, his hand flexing agitatedly beneath yours.Â
âItâs not something thatâŚâ
It was so rare to see Alastor unrehearsed. He never stammered or tripped over his words. So to see him searching for the right thing to say, the right way to explain what he was feeling, was an almost unnerving sight.Â
âItâs okay,â You smiled. âYou donât have to be embarrassed.â
Alastor clucked his tongue.Â
âDonât be absurd.â He frowned for a moment, then, âIâve been kissed, if that counts.â
âI know, I was there.â
âI meant when I was alive.âÂ
âOh.â
That you hadnât expected.Â
Admittedly, you had rather hoped that if you were his first partner, you might be the first person to ever get this close to Alastor. It was something you were immensely proud of, but of course, he was so handsome when he was alive, and so talented, it shouldnât be surprising that everyone was completely infatuated with him.
You only realised you were scowling when Alastor leaned forward and pressed a soft kiss to your forehead, smoothing out your frown.Â
âOh, sweetheart, you look divine when youâre jealous.â
It was your turn to feign irritation, tutting under your breath and taking back your comforting hand. Â
âDonât change the subject.â
âIt was a fundamentally unpleasant experience. But that was more because of the misguided girl who was doing the kissing.âÂ
âAnd when I kissed you?â
Again, Alastor looked uneasy. The static had returned, rolling around the room and back to you.Â
âI trust that I can rely on your discretion. Not a word of this conversation can leave this room.â
âItâs just you and me, handsome,â you said, crossing your heart.Â
Alastor sighed, his dramatics a mask for how nervous he truly was.Â
"It wasnât my intention to make you worry, cher. You havenât done anything wrong, it just surprised me.â He looked thoughtful, his ears twitching nervously. âItâs not something I ever really thought about when I was alive. There were always more important things to do. And admittedly, the mechanics are a bit strange to me.â
âIt is a little weird,â You smiled. âYou just get used to it.â
âPhysical affection of that kind never really meant anything of importance to me, and to suddenly have it, I- I find myself feeling⌠Unprepared. I donât know the steps.â Frustrated, Alastor sighed again. âThese things just do not come easily to me as they do to others.â
You found that hard to believe. Everything came easily to Alastor. You could tell that about him from the moment you met. Even as he vigorously shook your hand on that very first day, you could read it in him instantly. It was clear in the way he carried himself, in the glint in his eyes.Â
That wasnât to say heâd lived without troubles, itâs just that they simply rolled off his back, and he was able to stride on without missing a step. Challenges that stopped others in their tracks were mere suggestions to him. He could put his astute mind to anything. He knew what he wanted, and he knew how to get it. You admired him for it. You hated him a little bit for it too, at first.
âWhy do you think that is?â you asked.Â
âThese things simply do not feel natural to me. Either I feel nothing, and itâs a waste of my time. Or I overthink, and it ceases to be enjoyable.â
You smiled.
âI think youâre just worried about not being good at it.â
âThat may factor in. But I would like to, cher. Iâd like to know you better. And, well, I feel hampered byâŚâ
Alastor bared his teeth and tapped one long claw against them.
Taken aback, you laughed.
âReally?â
Alastor closed his mouth again, but you noticed him run his tongue over the fronts of his teeth behind his closed lips.Â
âThey tend to get in the way.â
He looked down at the chaise again. Only the very corners of his clever mouth were upturned. He looked uncharacteristically self-conscious, and you wondered if Alastor was finding this conversation more difficult than he let on. Well, you couldnât have that.
âYou know,â You scooted closer on the chaise, draping your arm along the back. As you spoke, you slipped it around Alastorâs shoulders, like a teenager on a first date at the movies. âIf you want to get better at something, all you need to do is practice. How does that sound to you?â
Alastor eyed you almost warily. Oh, yes. He was the most powerful sinner in all of Hell, but you were the only one who could make his cheeks go a lovely rosy colour, so what did that make you?Â
His natural bravado won in the end, and Alastor pulled you in closer, until you were almost, but not quite, sitting in his lap. You swept both arms around his shoulders now, and felt a thrill shoot up your spine when you felt one of Alastorâs big hands curl around your hip.Â
âYou think you can teach an old dog like me new tricks?â he asked, bending forward to bump his nose against yours.
You hummed, preening under the affection.Â
âIâd like to try. Weâll go slow. And if you want to stop, we will.â
âShould we agree on some kind of signal in case I canât prise you off of me?â
âYou know, you get less and less kissable by the second.â
âThat cannot possibly be true.â Alastor leaned forward and pressed a clumsy kiss to both your cheeks. âCâmon, amour, give me another chance.â
You slipped your hand around his face, your fingers running along the underside of his jaw, while your thumb swept a soothing metronome beat across his cheek.Â
âCan I?â
Alastor closed his eyes and let his head rest in your hand. Â
âYes.â
For a moment, you completely forgot what youâd been about to do. Just seeing Alastor like this, so completely at home and so unguarded, it held more meaning than you dared think about.Â
A part of you wanted to find Angel immediately and tell him all about it, how youâd held the Radio Demon in the palm of your hand and had him completely at your mercy, and over a kiss of all things, but you knew this secret would stay with you. Youâd never do that to Alastor. Oh, he was a conniving, deceiving, selfish old demon, but he was yours, and he trusted you.Â
You rose up and gingerly tilted his head back, granting you a better angle.Â
Alastorâs eyes opened, and he blinked at you, almost drowsily.Â
âYes, what?âÂ
Something flashed behind Alastorâs bright eyes, a neuron that had never fired before suddenly bursting into life.Â
He tilted his head back a little further, showing off his long, slender neck, just begging for your teeth.Â
âKiss me,â he whispered.
Sweeter words had never been uttered, not on Earth, not in Heaven, certainly never in Hell.Â
Just the brush of your lips against his was enough to make you dizzy. There was just something so intoxicating about Alastor, something so gorgeous and warm and enticing. Youâd wanted to know more about it from the moment you met, and you found that curiosity had not been extinguished.Â
There was a small, selfish part of you that was indescribably excited to finally get the attention youâd been craving. Hell was Hell, but you never could have prepared yourself for the aching loneliness you felt here. Anotherâs hands on your body, anotherâs mouth on yours, the thought alone was enough to send your mind reeling.Â
But you had promised to go slow, and if you were going to secure more little moments like this, you needed to keep to your word.Â
His face still held delicately in your loving hand, you pressed a little closer, capturing his lips with yours. Alastorâs nose was all scrunched up again, though you thought with concentration now, rather than confusion, and it was so endearing you could have throttled him.Â
âThere,â you murmured against his lips. âNot so bad, hm? You doing okay?â
âIâm not fragile, sweetheart. You donât have to keep checking in with me. You wonât break me.â
âWell,â You kissed him again, once, twice, getting him used to the feeling. âMaybe next time.â
âYouâre a cheeky little thing. I shouldâve known. I'd better watch myself around you.â
He was playing for time, distracting you with his sharp tongue while he fought to get his heart back in line. You could feel it now as you had last night, hammering under your palm as if heâd run a mile. That smile could hide a thousand emotions, but he couldnât disguise how his body reacted to you, not when he was pressed up against you, his hands now clutching at your hips.
You really couldnât care less about coming up with a witty retort, not when you could be kissing him, so you did just that.Â
You kept up the gentle, brushing motion now that heâd had time to grow accustomed to it, only pushing harder when you felt Alastor begin to unwind under you.Â
Though clumsy at first, he was a quick learner. It reminded you of when heâd taught you to dance at the last Sinsmas party. Heâd bent his head to whisper by your ear, and told you to follow his lead, keeping your body close to his. Alastor had a big smile on his face all night as you spun around the room, not his usual calm, stoic grin, but something bright and relaxed and human.Â
You paused to catch your breath, showing him how he might fill the in-between moments with soft, briefer kisses, pressing them to the corner of his lips, his cheek, before returning to his mouth.Â
You felt him murmur something about not being sure what to do with his hands, and it took you a moment to understand through the haze youâd drifted into.Â
âYou can touch me wherever you like, Al.â
He tensed under you. He liked the sound of that. But it still took Alastor several kiss-filled moments to let his hand slide up from your hip to the small of your back. He pressed in, pulling you closer, while his other hand came to rest on your thigh.Â
You could feel the very tips of his claws sinking into you, not enough to hurt or break the skin, but it made you shiver all the same.Â
Wanting to give him a break, you moved back and felt your stomach flip at the wet sound your parting lips made.Â
Alastor wrinkled his nose, and you knew heâd thought it was a little gross. He pressed his lips together and ran his tongue along them, and the taste of you was enough to smooth out his expression.Â
âNot so bad?âÂ
You ran your fingers through his soft hair, fiddling with the few strands that youâd caused to fall out of place. He always looked so perfect. How did he do that?Â
Alastor carefully shook his head, not wanting to dislodge your fingers.Â
âTerrifying.â
âIâm terrifying?â
âBeing good enough for you. Being good to you. Not making a mess of something that feels⌠Safe. These things I find utterly petrifying."
âYou think too much. And talk too much.â
Alastor caught your hand and pressed a kiss to the centre of your palm.Â
âYouâve resorted to bullying very quickly. Some teacher you turned out to be.â
âJust kiss me, red.â
And so he did. It was the first time heâd initiated anything, and he was still adorably clumsy with it, but he soon found his rhythm again.
The hand that still held yours slipped down to your wrist, then tugged your hand back into his hair.Â
Without waiting for permission, you grazed your fingertips against his scalp. The soft groan you felt in his chest would have been clue enough that Alastor liked that very much, let alone the white noise coming from him now, and the way he didnât stop kissing you to nod his head, imploring you not to stop.Â
The idea that this could all be pretty overwhelming to him ran through your head, and you were reminded of the promise youâd made to take things slow. You were just supposed to be teaching him, showing Alastor that this could be a nice thing rather than something to be scared of, and you didnât like the thought of him getting carried away and feeling bad when the euphoria had ebbed.Â
You moved back a little, trying to give Alastor some space, but he only nosed in closer, his grip on you tightening. A hum of displeasure rumbled in his chest, and you couldnât settle your broad smile, even if you tried.
By way of an apology, you caught his lower lip and sucked gently. It had been years since you had done this with anyone, youâd feared you might have lost the knack, but then you felt Alastor moan softly, a sound that began somewhere deep in his belly and ended up in yours.Â
Then he surprised you by returning the favour, sucking your bottom lip between his sharp teeth and biting down gently.Â
âFuckâŚâ
You could help it, your groan slipped from your parted lips before you could even think about it.Â
Alastorâs eyes searched your face, his big hands kneading at you.Â
âThat good, hm?â
Cheeks hot, you buried your face in Alastorâs neck, working your lips way down to where his thready heart pulsed as an excuse to look away.Â
âItâs been a while,â you reminded him.
Your breath sent a shiver across Alastorâs warm skin.Â
âGood.â Alastorâs voice was rough as he guided your face back to his. âI have enough trouble keeping this place afloat. I donât need a string of old suitors to see off as well.â
âYouâre so ridiculousâŚâ You moved away to speak, but Alastor followed you, swallowing half your words. âAnd good at thisâŚâ
âNaturally.â
Whatever nervousness heâd felt was apparently all gone now. He was still gentle, curious, but when Alastor kissed you now, there was intent there, initiative. He bit your lip again, just because he could, and because he liked the little noises he could get out of you.
But then, the inevitable happened. Getting too cocky would always be Alastorâs downfall. He tugged at you again, his concentration lost, and accidentally pierced your bottom lip with one of his pointed teeth.Â
You hissed, more of a reflex than because it hurt, and Alastorâs hands immediately shot to your shoulders, keeping you still so that he could pull back, just as he had the night before.
âItâs okay, Iâm alright!â you said, before he could even think about clamming up again. âLook, Iâm fine. See?â
You licked your lip, swirling the tang of iron against the roof of your mouth until the taste disappeared. Alastor watched your tongue dart out again and swallowed hard, his fingers flexing around your upper arms.Â
âSweetheartâŚâ
Before he could begin to talk himself out of it, you climbed into Alastorâs lap, your knees on either side of his narrow hips. He gazed up at you, starry-eyed and lost, so you kissed him again, reminding him how good this could feel.Â
The new position stirred something in Alastor that heâd never felt before. Being this close to someone, being intimate, it was still an unpleasant thought, but his body knew what to do, even if his mind was whirring like an old ceiling fan.Â
But soon, even this faded away to nothing, like youâd slowly turned down the volume of his worries, until there was nothing left but the hammering of his own heart, and the sweet sound of your lips moving against his. Â
Soon, he stopped worrying about not being good enough. With a deep inhale, he allowed himself to get lost in the feeling of your soft body against his, the sweet taste of your blood, and the warm sounds he somehow, against all odds, was able to pull from you. The world faded away, and all that was left were your pretty eyes and clever hands.Â
You shifted in Alastorâs lap, edging closer to him, and couldnât hide your delight at the soft, cervine sound that slipped from his mouth. His ears pinned back, Alastor looked like he wanted to deny ever forming such a noise, but you kissed him again before he got the chance.Â
His hands skirted up your back, palms flat, so that only the smooth edges of his claws grazed you now. Hyperaware, you thought, of accidentally hurting you again. It was sweet, but you werenât delicate either, and you missed the feeling of his needle-sharp claws sinking into you.Â
Eager to make him bleat again, you slipped your fingers back into his hair, one hand seeking out and cradling the back of his head, while the other caught some of his soft hair between your knuckles and tugged.Â
Alastor moaned into your mouth, his eyebrows all scrunched up as warmth flooded his body. You took your chance and pressed your tongue against his slowly, taking your time, showing him how to move.Â
Somehow, Alastorâs grip on you tightened even more, and he hefted you forward, so now he was leaning back against the plush arm of the chaise with you draped across him like a blanket. He licked his way into your mouth with admittedly more enthusiasm than skill, but it was still enough to make you see stars.Â
If someone had told you all those months ago that a job behind the desk at this ridiculous hotel would lead to you sitting in the Radio Demonâs lap, lazily making out, youâd say they had lost their damn mind. But here you were, and you couldnât think of anywhere youâd rather be.Â
You existed in a hazy world of long, open-mouth kisses, moving slowly, keeping each other close. With every soft moan you managed to draw from Alastorâs talented mouth, you grew dizzier and less aware of what your hands were doing. But he didnât seem to mind. He just kept sinking deeper and deeper into you, as lost in your mouth as you were in his.Â
Alastor seemed to be having the same problem with wandering hands. His long fingers were enough to cover the expanse of your back, caging you in so that you had no chance of escape, even if youâd wanted to. His ears were set back on his head, relaxed and happy, and when you drew a fingertip up the length of one, it made him shudder beneath you.Â
It was so much, but never enough. You lost track of time, of space, of your promise to go slow. When Alastor tugged you closer again, you rolled your hips against his, but stopped when his hands instantly dropped to your waist to still you.
âToo much?âÂ
Your voice was rough. For a moment, you didnât recognise it as your own.
Alastorâs long fingers pressed into your hips, pulling you down a little harder against himself, an experimental move that made you both sigh.Â
âToo much,â he agreed, eyes closed. âBut not ânoâ. Maybe another night. Itâs⌠YouâreâŚâ
âItâs okay.â Smiling fondly, you brushed back some of his soft hair from his forehead. âWeâve got all the time in the world, Alastor. I just want you to feel good.â
âYou donât mind hitching your lot to a man who might not everâŚâ
He swallowed thickly, his eyes darting across your face as he tried to think of the right words. One of his long ears flicked, giving away his feverish apprehension.Â
You just smiled and ran your fingers through his hair. He looked nice like this, all flustered and scruffy, his hair a bit of a mess from your wandering hands and his cheeks flushed.Â
âOf course not. Youâre all I want, Al. So long as weâre happy, thatâs all that matters to me.â
He looked at you for a long moment, then he stretched his back to kiss you again, soft and slow, and full of promise.
âThank you, my love.â
It was the first time heâd used those words. You really did try not to make a big deal out of it, but your broad smile could not be dimmed, even when you hid it in the crook of Alastorâs neck.Â
âNo need to thank me, handsome. Thank you for trusting me.â
âAmour,â Alastor purred, sliding the point of his nose down the length of your neck. âIâd give you the world.â
âI just want you.â
âOh, cher. You must know. You have me, sweetheart. You have me.â
[EDIT]This post has been getting reblogged a ton lately, but without any of the text, which is a shame because I spent a lot of time typing it. Even more of a shame, the second post has been completely ignored. So because I took so much time making these charts and typing this text, I think I should add a link here to the other post, even though none of you will even see it.
Post 2 with the last 8 languages:Â http://lucif-hare.tumblr.com/post/17141980690/for-people-who-dont-like-to-scroll-to-find[/EDIT]
For people who donât like to scroll to find valuables, here is a link to download all of the Star Wars fonts Iâve found: http://freak-show.zxq.net/Star%20Wars%20Fonts.zip (Note: This is a zip file. You will need to unzip it.)
To install a font:
In Windows 7, open the font and there should be a button at the top that says âInstall.â Click that and youâre done.
In other versions of Windows, copy and paste ONLY the font file into the font folder on your computer (It should be located in something like C:/Windows/Fonts)Â
About these charts:
For whatever reason, I have a fascination with in-world Star Wars languages. Iâve spent countless hours searching the internet for different languages, namely for the written alphabets. What Iâve found is that, even for the languages that exist, itâs extremely hard to find charts or fonts for the written languages. Aurebesh is obviously easy to find, but the others, not so much.
Because itâs so hard to find charts, I decided to make my own. It took far longer than I expected it to, but Iâm finally done.
Iâve managed to find 16 languages. Iâll post the first 8 (in alphabetical order) in this post and the last 8 in another post.
Iâve also gathered together all the Star Wars fonts Iâve found, including the fonts for each of the alphabets above (except for Geonosian and Kittât, which donât have fonts). A link to a zip folder with all of the languages can be found above. I should note that there are a lot of other Star Wars fonts out there, I was only looking for fonts for in-world languages. I just happened to have picked up some other English ones along the way.
About the languages:
Atrisian:
Atrisian is a language that comes from the planet Atrisia. Behind the scenes, it is an alphabet that was used in Star Wars games several times before Aurebesh was finalized. This font was created by Erikstormtrooper, who mapped the 12 characters seen in the games to the 12 most common letters in the English alphabet. He made up the rest of the letters. He named the font Dark Katarn after the game Star Wars: Dark Forces and the main character from the game, Kyle Katarn. There is much more information about where this alphabet comes from here. The language, however is officially called Atrisian, according to Wookieepedia.
Aurebesh:
Aurebesh is the language of the Star Wars universe. If youâre looking at an official Star Wars item from like the last 10 years, chances are there is Aurebesh printed on it somewhere. Aurebesh is an alphabet that was based on low-quality screen shots of monitor screens from the original Star Wars movies. At some point, someone stumbled across the original font used for those screens in the archives and revealed them to the world. It turns out the original letters differ a bit from Aurebesh, but itâs still pretty close. A font that more accurately matches the original screens (which is not included in my .zip above) and more information about the original Aurebesh can be found here. In-world, Galactic Basic is the language spoken by most of the galaxy. Galactic basic is just English (or whatever the native language is of the viewer). The written form of Galactic Basic is Aurebesh (Aurebesh means alphabet. Aure is the name of the letter A in Galactic Basic and Besh is the name of the letter B in Galactic Basic).
One note about the numbers in Aurebesh: Most Aurebesh fonts use the number design used in the above chart, with vertical lines and dots. However, there is only one instance that Iâve ever seen in an official source where this number design has been used (It was on a close up shot of credit ingots from the Star Wars: Clone Wars CG animated series) Everywhere else, a slightly modified version of the English numbers is used. Iâm not sure why this is, and I also havenât come across a font that has that same number design. This image shows the two number designs. The âalienâ numbers on top and the âArabicâ numerals normally seen in official Star Wars items on bottom.
Contained in the font .zip download are several different Aurebesh fonts made by various different people (Credits for who made what are inside). Among the fonts is a narrow version and a version that looks hand-written.
Common Sith:
There are 6 different versions of Darth Vaderâs chest box, each uses different characters from this language. These 6 boxes are the only instances Iâve ever seen that use this language. For some reason, it was decided that these letters should be the Common Sith language. There is a very detailed explanation of where this alphabet came from here.
Iâve thought about it quite a bit and this just doesnât seem at all likely or logical to me. Darth Vader was the last sith in a very long line of sith existence (Yes, I know the sith came back after Palpatine died, but for at least a short time, the sith stopped existing) It seems unlikely that only the very last sith to exist would have used this language and not the thousands who came before him. Aside from that, Palpatine and Vader were the only Sith left in the universe. The only reason you write in a particular language rather than another is so that a particular person or group of persons can read it. You choose the language most easily read by the people whom you want to be reading it. If thereâs only one other person in the galaxy who knows how to read this language, it doesnât seem logical at all to bother using that language. With Aurebesh being the primary language in the galaxy, it stands to reason that Vader would have used that. Or at the very least a more common alphabet than one only the two of them knew how to read. Which brings me to my next point. It could be understandable if the text was used to hide valuable information that Vader wanted only sith to know. But itâs his fucking chest box. Itâs a medical component, a part of his life-support system. For one, you donât put secret information on your chest, even if it isnât legible to anyone. And for another, you donât label medical components with secret code. If you have a medical emergency, you want your doctor to be able to read what the the fuck your life-support system says. Which brings me to another point. Itâs a medical device. Vader probably didnât make it himself (Maybe he built a newer version later on, but not the original one) why would the medical engineers that made this device have labeled shit in the sith alphabet? How would they have even known the sith alphabet? Itâs unlikely that they would have.
For all of these reasons, it seems really unlikely and illogical to me that the text on Vaderâs chest box would be a sith alphabet. If it was a sith alphabet, itâd have been seen all over the place, written by all the countless other sith that existed before Vader. But it hasnât appeared anywhere else.
I maintain that this font is not a sith alphabet. But it is canon at this point, so thereâs not much I can do about it.
Having said all of this, the real reason I donât like this font are two fold: 1.) Several of the characters are very similar and when writing it on paper, unless you write the letters perfectly (and my handwriting sucks), it can be difficult to determine which letter youâve written (I know, Iâve already done this.) 2.) The biggest thing about this alphabet that bothers me is that it is not original. The letters in this alphabet are literally just Hebrew letters. And that bothers me. I like my fictional alphabets to be fictional. This is the main reason I reject this alphabet. I love the sith and I want an original, unique language to be paired up with them. Thatâs why Iâm thrilled about Kittât, which youâll see in my next post.
Droid:
I donât really know where this font comes from, I canât seem to find any information on it except the brief blurb about it next to the font download on one particular site. It uses symbols very similar (and sometimes the same as) the Trade Federation alphabet, but it isnât exactly the same.
The blurb from this website says this:
The Droid font comes from the Star Warsr movie âThe Phantom Menace"r and the book StarWars Episode 1 Visual Dictionary. The info for this font comes from Scott Watson. This is the Galactic Basic numerals used to identify Droids. The font is canon 0 thru 9 and A thru J. The rest of the font was invented by Mike, if more info is forthcoming he will update the font.
Ewokese:
Aside from having a spoken language that you can learn (Click the link above to view the list of words from the language), Ewokese also has this glyph writing system. The symbols represent words and ideas and are not used to spell words like normal letters are. The symbols are also written vertically, not horizontally.
Futhark:
Futhark is the formal written language used on Naboo.It was not often used because it was found hard to read by common folk, according to Wookieepedia. Iâm not sure why, but Iâve never cared for Naboo and this happens to be my least favorite of the Star Wars alphabets.
Futhork:
Futhork is the informal version of Nabooâs written language. I.. guess there isnât much more to say about it than thatâŚ
Geonosian:
Geonosian is a language that was created by Philip Metschan, along with two other alphabets, for George Lucas. Philip incorporated this alphabet in several of the Death Star technical readouts in Episode 2. As far as I know, this alphabet has not been released as a font publicly. For the chart above, I photoshopped the characters out of the image (which you can see by clicking the âGeonosianâ link above) from Philipâs portfolio (which you can find by clicking his name above). Because I am not a typographer and do not have the means to make my own fonts, this font is not in the .zip folder. Itâs a shame because I think this font looks pretty cool.
And that wraps up the first of this two part Star Wars/language nerdgasm of posts Iâm making.
Part of me is like âneat. Reblog,â and part of me is like âI understand now why impressionism took off, because thereâs a 0% chance the artist wasnât like âfuck this shitâ by the halfway point.â
Okay, so Iâve taken to replaying The Quarry just to nitpick the finer details and unused parts of the game, right? WellâŚI have made such a huge list of tiny details and unused sections that I actually believe I can create a whole new story just from this.
Iâm genuinely intrigued enough and already started on the fanfiction, but itâll take place at the start of summer with either one or two new charactersâŚ
Any ideas, thoughts, or anybody wanna be included?
This is veryveryvery important. My wife was feeling down about herself the other night and asked me âwhy do I look like this?â And I immediately brought up a photo I had taken of a sculpture of Aphrodite I had taken at the Chicago MOMA. I said, âlook at this picture. What does she look like?â And my wife very shyly answered âMeâŚâ (Literally her body is IDENTICAL to the sculpture) so I replied âthat is the Goddess Aphrodite. THAT is why your body looks like this.â
