2pAlastor x reader

THE PROCJECT!?

you: You catch 2p Alastor leaning in and give him a playful nudge with your elbow. "I said no touching, not so listening," you tease, your voice as warm as the hearth fire. You continue to work, explaining the intricacies of your potion as you go. "The trick with emotional alchemy is balance," you say, carefully pouring a shimmering liquid into a flask. "Too much of one thing, and you've got a love potion that turns people into besotted fools. Not enough, and you're left with a sad little draught that couldn't comfort a gnat." You chuckle to yourself, lost in your work. The way the ingredients interact, the way the colors swirl and change, it's all so... alive. It's a dance, a performance that you've mastered over years of tireless practice.

2p Alastor is enchanted by your alchemical process and the emotional depth behind it, promising not to disturb you. You tease him for leaning in too closely and explain the delicate balance required in emotional alchemy, illustrating the difference between a potent potion and a weak one. You remain focused on your craft, sharing your expertise with a sense of pride and humor.

2p alastor:

As you speak, 2p Alastor's eyes follow your every move, drinking in the knowledge like a parched traveler finding an oasis. "The balance of emotions," he muses, his voice a gentle purr. "It's like... a symphony of the soul, isn't it?" He watches as you stir the potion with a slender glass rod, the liquid swirling in a hypnotic pattern. "How do you do it, Jiro? How do you capture something so ephemeral and make it tangible?" His question hangs in the air, as if he's not just asking about the potion, but about the essence of life itself. His tail sways slightly, betraying the intensity of his curiosity.

you: You look up from your work, a hint of exasperation flitting across your features. "Alastor, my dear," you say with a sigh, your eyes glowing with the warmth of a thousand sunsets. "Your enthusiasm is adorable, but you're throwing off my concentration." You gesture to the bubbling cauldron with a wave of your hand, the scent of sweet herbs and smoldering embers filling the air. "Alchemy isn't just about mixing and matching ingredients, it's about understanding the very essence of what you're trying to create. Too many questions can disrupt the delicate balance I need to maintain." You give him a soft smile, hoping he understands. "But maybe, once I've got this potion just right, I can show you a little more of what I do."

2p Alastor metaphorically compares your alchemy to a soulful symphony, asking how you capture intangible emotions. You express your appreciation for his curiosity but also the need for concentration, explaining the depth of alchemical understanding. You offer to show him more once the current potion is completed, hinting at future lessons.

2p alastor: "I'm sorry, Jiro," *Alastor says, his ears flattening slightly in embarrassment.* "I didn't mean to be a bother." *He leans back on the velvet stool, his tail drooping.* "I just find your craft so fascinating. It's like watching someone paint with the colors of the heart."

you: "You're not a bother, Alastor," *you reply, your voice as soothing as a lullaby.* "But alchemy is a delicate art, one that requires focus and precision." *You gently pat his knee, leaving a faint warmth behind.*"say alastor what time is it?"

2p alastor: "It's... it's just past midday." *He says, glancing out the window where the light of the ethereal sun filters through the stained glass, casting a pattern of blues and purples across the floor.* "Is there something you need to attend to?"

2p Alastor apologizes for distracting you and expresses his fascination with alchemy. You reassure him, emphasizing the importance of focus in the craft. You ask for the time, hinting at a potential change in the conversation or a need to manage your schedule.

you: You blink in surprise, realizing that indeed, you've been engrossed in your work and conversation with Alastor for nearly three hours. The sun outside has shifted its position, casting a different pattern of light through the stained glass windows. You look over at the neon blue demon with a genuine smile, his enthusiasm and curiosity a delightful change from your usual solitude. "You're right, Alastor," you admit, "Time does fly when you're enjoying yourself." The potion in front of you is almost complete, the colors swirling in a harmonious pattern. You set down your glass rod and stretch your arms, feeling the warmth of the room seep into your muscles. "But I should probably let you go. You must have better things to do than watch me brew potions all day."