#radiobelle fanfiction

[bathsaltsmcgee]

Chapter Forty-Five is now available.

[qdkdraws]

Finally. Finished. Chaotic Wonderland AU.

[hishumanbellestories]

First kiss, but nothing serious.

I wanted something about the first kiss between Alastor and Deborah, I let myself go with the feelings, sweet and pathetic. 🫠

The air crackled between you like the charged silence before a storm. It had always been this way with Alastor — his presence was a static hum in your bones, an unseen force twisting the world around him. And yet, you were drawn to it, to him.

He grinned, as he always did; that sharp, ever-present smile that seemed more a mask than an expression. But his eyes — deep, endless red — lingered too long tonight, watching you as if there was something he couldn’t quite place.

«You do enjoy testing your luck, my dear», he said, voice syrupy smooth, but there was something else beneath it. Something unsettled.

You tilted your head, challenging him with nothing but a look.

«And you enjoy pretending you don't care».

For once, he didn’t immediately respond. Instead, he took a step closer, the space between you vanishing like smoke. His gloved hand reached out, hovering just near your cheek, fingers twitching as if fighting the impulse to touch you.

«You make the most dangerous assumptions», he murmured, and his voice was softer now, almost uncertain.

A rare thing.

You could feel his breath, though he didn’t need to breathe; could feel the static between you tightening like a wire pulled taut.

You knew Alastor — knew the way he toyed with the world, with people, but this wasn’t a game, was it?

The moment stretched, a delicate thread of something unnamed. Then, without thought, without fear, you closed the distance, placing your soft lips against his, just to spite him, and ruin his "I've got it all under control" ways.

The kiss was not meant to be anything but a test — chaste, fleeting. But the moment your lips brushed his, a current surged between you, sharp and consuming.

His entire body stiffened, and for a single, breathless second, the ever-present grin faltered. Then, just as quickly, it was back.

He pulled away, laughter bubbling up, but there was something wrong with it — too high, too forced — control slipped from his hands, causing the world to collapse beneath his feet.

«My, my, what a bold little thing you are!», he took a step back, a flicker of something unreadable flashing across his face before his mask slammed firmly back into place. «Careful, darling. You wouldn’t want to start something you can’t handle.»

But you saw it.

The way his hands trembled ever so slightly.

The way his grin no longer reached his eyes.

He didn’t know what this was.

And that...

Terrified him.

For the first time, you saw Alastor shaken. It wasn’t much — just a tremor in his fingers, a flicker of something too raw in his eyes before he forced it back into that gleeful, manic mask. But you saw it. And he knew you did.

He recovered fast, of course. Spun on his heel like nothing had happened, hands slipping into his pockets as he whistled some old radio tune, his voice bright, careless. Too careless.

«Well, well! That was unexpected! Can’t say I planned for a lady such as yourself to be so…», his grin sharpened, «forward».

You crossed your arms, tilting your head.

«It was just a kiss, Alastor».

He stopped.

Just for a second.

Barely noticeable, but you caught it.

He turned to you, that ever-present amusement still there, but something lurked beneath it, something restless.

«Just a kiss?», he repeated it like the words were foreign on his tongue. He took a step toward you, then another, the distance between you vanishing once more.

He didn’t touch you, but you felt him all the same, the crackle in the air thick enough to choke on.

His voice dipped lower, softer, almost dangerous in its curiosity.

«Tell me, my dear… was that just a kiss to you?»

You held his gaze, refusing to flinch.

«I don’t know yet».

His grin widened, but his fingers twitched at his sides. That was new. Alastor never hesitated. He never second-guessed himself. But right now, he was doing both.

For a man who delighted in control, in knowing the game before it was played, this uncertainty was driving him mad.

The silence between you stretched, thick with something unsaid, something unacknowledged. You could see it in his eyes — the war raging inside him.

Then, suddenly, the tension snapped. He laughed. Loud, sharp, as if trying to shatter whatever had settled between you. With a theatrical flourish, he stepped back, hands thrown up as if waving off the entire moment.

«Well! That was certainly entertaining!», his voice was back to its usual, sing-song charm, but there was something off about it. «But really, darling, if you were expecting a fairytale romance, I’m afraid you’ll have to find some other poor fool for that!»

He winked, as if that sealed it, as if he hadn’t just been shaken to his very core.

You didn’t argue. Didn’t push. You just smiled.

«Who said anything about a romantic fairy tale?», you teased.

Because you knew.

He was running.

And one day, he’d realize there was nowhere left to hide.

Alastor kept his distance after that night.

Not in an obvious way — no, he was far too cunning for that. He still laughed with you, still appeared at your side with a flourish and a grin, still teased you like nothing had changed.

But it had.

You saw it in the way his gaze lingered just a second too long, the way his hands would twitch when he got too close, the way his smile would slip — only for a fraction of a moment — whenever you so much as met his eyes for too long.

He was unraveling, and he knew it.

But Alastor didn’t unravel. He didn’t falter. He was chaos, but controlled chaos. And yet, you had done something to him.

And he hated it.

It came to a head one evening, the two of you alone in one of the lesser-used sitting rooms of the hotel. Rain pattered against the windows, and the room was dim, lit only by the flickering glow of an old lamp. It cast long shadows, twisting along the walls like they were alive, like they were watching.

You were watching too.

Alastor had been quiet all night, tapping his fingers against the armrest of his chair, his smile a little too sharp, his posture a little too tense.

«You’re avoiding me», you broke the silence with ease, not bothering to mask the amusement in your voice.

Alastor’s fingers stilled. His eyes flickered toward you, red and unreadable. Then — laughter. Bright, grating, forced.

«Now why would I do a thing like that, darling?», his voice was its usual sing-song self, but it lacked its usual bite. «I think you must be imagining things! After all... I am here, with you, all alone».

You leaned forward, resting your chin in your palm. «Am I?».

He hesitated.

It was brief, but it was still there.

A moment of hesitation, a sliver of uncertainty, and that was all you needed.

«Do you regret it?», you asked, voice softer now.

He went very still.

The shadows stretched around him, his antlers casting long, spindly shapes against the wall. The radio static that always followed him crackled just beneath the surface, an unspoken tension thrumming between you both.

Then — he laughed again, but this time, there was no humor in it.

«Regret?», he cocked his head, grin stretching unnaturally wide.

«Now why would I regret something so insignificant?».

You didn’t flinch. You didn’t even blink.

«Then why are you running from it?»

His smile twitched. It was the smallest thing — so small most people wouldn’t have noticed. But you weren’t most people.

He exhaled sharply, shaking his head as if shaking off something he couldn’t name. Then, with a sudden, almost violent movement, he was out of his chair and in front of you, too fast for you to react. One gloved hand braced against the chair’s armrest, the other hovering just near your face, fingers curling like he wanted to touch you but couldn’t.

Couldn’t.

Or wouldn’t.

You held your breath, but you didn’t look away.

«You think you’re so clever», he murmured, voice too low, too smooth, like a blade hidden beneath silk. «Poking at things you don’t understand. Playing a game you don’t know the rules to».

You smiled, slow and knowing.

«Then tell me the rules, Alastor», your voice firm and your gazes locked.

His breath hitched. Just for a second. And then, something in him snapped.

His lips were on yours before you even had a chance to react.

It wasn’t gentle. It wasn’t soft.

It was a collision — sharp, desperate, edged with something neither of you had words for yet. His hand finally found your face, going against his instinct to give up on you, on your skin. Gloved fingers pressing into your skin, as if grounding himself, as if keeping himself from slipping through the cracks of something he couldn’t understand.

For a moment — just a moment — he let himself have this.

Then, just as suddenly as it had begun, it was over.

He pulled away as if burned, eyes wide, chest rising and falling in sharp, uneven breaths. His lips parted like he wanted to say something, but nothing came.

Then — he laughed.

It was sharp, grating, too loud for the room.

A poor attempt at covering the tremor in his hands, the way his whole body seemed to be fighting against something it couldn’t name.

«Well, now!», he straightened, adjusting his tie with an exaggerated flourish. «That was certainly… enlightening!»

You didn’t speak. You just looked at him.

Waiting.

His smile didn’t quite reach his eyes.

«But I do believe I’ve kept you up far too late, my dear! Sweet dreams and all that!»

And before you could so much as blink, he was gone, vanished into the shadows like he had never been there at all.

But you knew better.

Because this time — he was the one running.

And sooner or later, he’d have to stop.

The distance didn’t last.

Of course, it didn’t.

You were attracted to each other like two magnets, the attraction for each other was too strong.

Alastor could run. He could retreat into the static, into the shadows, into the illusion that nothing had changed. But it had. And now, it was eating him alive.

It had been days since that kiss, since he had fled from you like a man on the edge of something he couldn’t name, something he couldn’t control. You had given him space, knowing he would break before you ever had to chase him.

And tonight, he did.

It was well past midnight when he found you.

The storm outside had swallowed the sky whole, thunder rolling in waves, rain hammering against the windows like impatient fingers demanding entry. The dim light of the hotel flickered, struggling against the pull of something unseen, something raw and waiting in the air.

You were in the lounge sitting on the sofa, the piano under the moonlight that created nostalgic atmospheres with the shadows of the reflections.

Alastor stood near the grand piano in the lounge, back turned to you, shoulders stiff beneath his coat. The room was empty, silent but for the faint crackle of radio static, seeping from him like a wound he couldn’t close.

You stepped forward.

«Alastor».

He didn’t turn.

«I should have left», he said, voice thick.

His voice was different. Not his usual sing-song lilt, not his playful, taunting tone. It was quiet. Unsteady. Almost human.

You frowned. «Left?»

He let out a short, breathless laugh, shaking his head.

«The moment I met you, I should have left».

Finally, he turned, and when he did, you nearly forgot how to breathe.

Alastor had always been unsettling — too sharp, too knowing, always grinning like he was two steps ahead of everyone else. But now… now he just looked wrecked.

His red eyes burned, feverish, his usual grin nowhere to be found. Instead, his lips were slightly parted, like he wanted to speak but couldn’t form the words.

You stepped closer, and this time, he didn’t back away.

«What are you so afraid of?», you asked, voice gentle.

His jaw clenched. «Don’t».

«Don’t what?»

He exhaled sharply, running a gloved hand through his hair.

«This», he whispered.

«You...», he gestured wildly, like the very idea of you existing in his world was an offense to the natural order of things.

«It’s not supposed to happen like this».

You searched his face. «Like what?»

His eyes flashed. «Like this!»

And suddenly, his hands were on you — gripping your arms, pulling you close, too close.

You could feel the tremor in his fingers, the barely contained storm raging beneath his skin.

«You think I don’t know what you’re doing to me?», he whispered, voice rough, unsteady. «You think I don’t feel it? The way you—», his breath hitched. «The way you’re ruining me?»

Your heart pounded. «Ruining you?»

His grip tightened.

«I don’t love. I don’t want. Not like this».

His voice shook, something raw bleeding through the cracks in his mask.

«Not until you», his voice a tremor.

The words sent a shiver down your spine.

You lifted a hand, brushing your fingers over his jaw, his skin burning even through the gloves. «Alastor…»

He sucked in a sharp breath, as if your touch had cut him open, and for the first time, he didn’t move away.

«I hate this...», he confessed, voice barely above a whisper.

«I hate you», he said again.

«I hate that you’re in my head.

That I dream of you.

That every time I close my eyes, all I see is you. I hate it because I can’t stop it. I hate it because I don't want to stop it».

His forehead rested against yours now, his breath mingling with yours, the storm outside howling like a beast.

You swallowed hard. «Then stop running».

He stilled.

You slid your hands up his chest, fingers curling into his coat, holding him there, as if anchoring him to this moment.

«I don’t want you to love me if it means destroying you. But I see you, Alastor. The real you. And I’m not afraid».

His whole body shuddered, as if your words had shattered something inside him.

And then, before you could say anything else, he kissed you.

It was nothing like before.

There was no hesitation this time, no fleeting, confused touches.

This was something deeper, something desperate, something starving.

His hands tangled in your hair, his body pressing against yours like he wanted to disappear into you, like he wanted to drown in the feeling.

You gasped against his lips, and he swallowed the sound greedily, his grip unrelenting, as if letting go would tear him apart. The static around you roared, the air splitting with unseen energy, lights flickering wildly. The very room seemed to bend around him, as if he was losing control of everything but this.

When he finally broke the kiss, his forehead pressed against yours, his breath ragged, his hands still cradling your face like he didn’t dare let go.

His voice was hoarse, barely audible.

«You ruined me, my dear. You have no idea what it means to want you mine. What it means to be mine. Like a poison you have corroded my mind. My heart».

You smiled. «No. I saved you», a shiver runs down your spine.

Alastor let out a sharp breath, something like laughter, something like surrender.

Then, with a slow, almost reverent touch, he kissed you again.

And this time, he didn’t run.

[libitfandom]

“He could feel her melody, creeping and curling around him like smoke. This didn’t take him back to a time before, he hadn’t felt anything like this before. His face hot, chest tight. His monocle, normally held in place by magic nearly popped from its usual spot.”

Illustration for Chapter 4 of the Radio Songbird. Can you tell I love Elsie Lovelock’s cover of why don’t you do right?

Chapter should be up later today.

[waffawa]

Little scene from Chapter 2 of my fic “The Mark of Judgment” lol

[dapper-suitor]

Artwork for the first chapter in my AU series!

Essentially it explores the concept of a role-swap between Angel Dust and Alastor. Instead of whoever his mysterious benefactor is that gave Alastor much of his power (S1 Lore.), he fell to hell and made a deal with Valentino instead. Valentino is obviously much older in this AU.

I would like to reinforce Alastor is very much sex-repulsed and asexual here, so he obviously is unhappy with how things have turned out. Another thing I thought was interesting to explore, because traditionally hell is about punishment, and in this AU Alastor is going through it.

I also like the Charlastor ship, but based on the series, I don’t find it feasible without some sort of AU; canonly they remind me more of father and daughter, so this is a place where I can build that relationship.

Lastly, Angel Dust isn’t replaced in this AU, just his role as Valentino’s favorite. Instead, Alastor will be sort of a fatherly figure to him, because they both work in the same horrible conditions.

Go give it a read if you’re interested!

[ambrioletteels]

Here is the one I made with a fake screenshot background. I normally draw them but the actual shots is too pretty not to use for at least one this important! This is based on the aftermath of Chapter 15 of Penance by kinkydents on A03. 🦌♥️🌈

[alastor-simp-page]

I am in Love with Charlastor

Look at these cuties walking through cannibal town arm in arm. THEY ARE SO CUTE! HE'S SUCH A GENTLEMAN! OPENING THE DOOR FOR HER!! AHAHAHAHHAA

No kidding. You know what I'm done dancing around the daunting Charlastor ship. I'm just gonna do it.

Shoot me some prompts if you would like. But I'm gonna do it. I'm gonna write it. It might be terrible BUT LETS DO IT! Starting with one-shots first, ha. I'm not that confident to plunge headfirst into a Charlastor fic YET.

I don't know why I love Charlastor. I think I love it more than RadioApple. It just has that exciting feeling to it. Two people on opposite sides of everything: the pessimist and the optimist (Obviously Charlie). The one who wouldn't hurt a fly and the one who would kill someone if they looked at them the wrong way. Charlie's smiles are sincere and she wears them all the time. Alastor's smiles are a way to deceive his enemies and he wears them all the time. The absolute sweetheart and the tall dark brooding psychotic gentleman. And for some reason they look so DAMN GOOD TOGETHER! And the ship is even more spicy because Lucifer despises Alastor.

I am not ashamed to admit it: I love the dramatics. Charlie and Alastor are meant for the stage. Why not have their lives together be a twisting turning show? (I do not want this in real life) ITS ROMANCE! GIVE ME THE DRAMA! GIVE ME THE ANGST!

Okay one more gif:

Side note its random but Its Always Sunny in Philadelphia is a FIRE SHOW! Oh ha I just realized Charlie is in this gif too. SEE CHARLIE SUPPORTS ME! CHARLIE MORNINGSTAR (Not Charlie Kelly) BELONGS WITH ALASTOR!

Damn it, I'm yapping on tumblr when I should be writing.

[dragonfoxgirl]

@devotedstargazer 's works on charlastor fanfiction set themselves apart by the unmatched back and forth between Alastor and Charlie.

You really have managed to keep him dark, wicked, and charming at the same time. A lot of writers have written amazing scenes of sexual intimacy between these two. You included! But for me, what sets your work apart is the incredible portrayal of Alastor's vulnerability and adoring devotion towards Charlie painted through their conversations.

The painful dissection of his struggling understanding of his own feelings. The push and pull between his willingness and reluctance to the change instilled by his love.... the way you write it, it's magic.

I needed a few breaks myself, because being a reader that fully immerses herself in the scenes, I could just FEEL the struggle.

I mentioned it before when I left a comment on the Thanksgiving chapter, but it's the dialogue that made me go back and re-read the first two chapters 3 more times. It's the potential for more dialogue that made me smile from ear to ear when I saw a new fic by you with a continuation. It did not leave me dissatisfied.

And oh, how I ate those two new chapters. The way you've portrayed him: cleaved and raw with feelings.... it's just so well built! Because you keep him vulnerable, but you don't make him seem defenseless. He still reads as "Alastor" to me.

Anyway.... just, fucking fantastic. A joy to read. Please have a fantastic holiday season wherever you are, and thanks for the FEAST.

[droughtspell]

You got my heartbeat racing, my body blazing~

🌈🦌

asking if anybody would be interested in an interactive thread? It helps motivate me to work on my fanfic. The idea is that I post a page and snippet here and put a poll up for what happens next. The concept is below 👇

[eyecan02]

Just Uploaded My 1920s Friends With Benefits Charlastor AU! Hope You Enjoy! Let me Know If the Chemistry is Chemistrying!

Full Summary: After witnessing Alastor committing a murder, Charlie is knocked out and taken to Alastor's home where he makes her a proposition- become his alibi anytime/anywhere and in return, he'll teach an out of practice Charlie the ropes on how to entice herself a husband. Needless to say, Alastor's methods are very hands on.

[shisureen]

A new chapter of All It Takes is up! Charlie and Alastor's parenting struggles continue. And guess who's back?

Chapter 12: Hell's Greatest (Grand)dad:

AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/43690158/chapters/144828820

Wattpad: https://www.wattpad.com/1457133502-all-it-takes-a-charlastor-slow-burn-chapter-12

[libitfandom]

Chapter 3 of The Radio Songbird is still in the works but here is the illustration to go with it.

[waffawa]

Inspired by my upcoming Charlastor fic! Probably will make it the cover :)

[charmingradiobelle]

A Promise in the Dead of Night

“I’m scared…”

Her voice is but a whisper, that Alastor barely registers her words at first. When he does, he feels himself tightening his arms around her, his mind already preparing to shield her from danger that he’s not made aware of.

Something’s been off about Charlie’s behavior and he hasn’t been able to determine the reason. From the moment she stepped in his room, he’s known she hasn’t been in her usual perky mood. It’s not unlike her to pay him a visit in the dead of night. Hell, it’s practically become routine for them. If he doesn’t end up falling asleep with her in her own bed, he can expect to find her hours later in his room, quietly requesting that she stay. And he never refuses. How could he possibly turn down such a request from the radiant, smiling princess of Hell?

But tonight, that gorgeous smile of hers that normally greets him when she enters a room was absent from her face. Her piercing eyes that could read all the secrets of his soul were puffy from tears she must have dried before coming to see him. She hasn’t uttered a word until now. She simply opened the door and walked over to join him on the sofa he sits on and crawled her way into his arms. He hasn’t questioned her, but he finds it odd that she had been so quiet. Not even a laugh, or even a breath. Has she been holding her breath the whole time?

Alastor brings his hand up to the back of her head that lays against his chest, raking his long claws through the soft strands of her golden hair. “Of what, dear?” He asks, his voice only slightly louder than hers.

She doesn’t answer. Not with words, at least. Instead she just further nuzzles her head against him, burying her face into the fabric of his coat like she’s trying to hide from something. Alastor swears he hears a faint whimper escape her—a sound that not only catches him off-guard, but fills him with rage. Several thoughts run through his mind like a herd of deer. What could have happened to her that would send her into such a fragile state? Who hurt her…?

Before jumping to conclusions, he decides to continue with his gentle approach. He shifts slightly, taking her chin between his fingers to lift her head away from his chest, her gaze instinctively meeting his. He’s met with the most heartbreaking look of vulnerability she’s ever displayed. He doesn’t like it one bit.

“What’s troubling you, my darling?” He questions her again, his thumb tenderly caressing the soft, milky skin of her face.

Charlie sniffles and briefly shifts her gaze downward as she struggles to answer in a way that makes sense. “I.. I don’t know.” She sighs shakily. She knows it’s a pathetic response, but she doesn’t know how to explain the hell-storm wreaking havoc in her mind.

Alastor stays quiet, only giving her a look that urges her to go on. And when she looks at him again, she does, however reluctantly.

“Oh Al.. I don’t know why, but I have a bad feeling in the pit of my stomach and no matter what I do, it won’t leave me alone.” Charlie lets out a small hiccup of a breath, leaning her head forward slightly, longing to lay on his chest again. “I keep having these horrible dreams. They play out differently, but they all end the same way…something bad happens, or someone attacks us, and one way or another, you get taken away from me. I don’t know what happens to you after. I always wake up before I can find out, but I’m afraid that it means you were…”

She pauses, not wanting to actually finish the thought aloud. She knows she doesn’t need to, anyway. Alastor can easily fill in the blank.

His signature smile, sealed by his lips at the moment, tightens at the corners. Charlie doesn’t see it, but his blinking eyes go wide for just a moment. It may be just a coincidence, it had to be. But what are the odds that they were both struggling with bad dreams about losing the other to some unknown force of darkness? Alastor hasn’t let it affect him like Charlie clearly has, because to him it shouldn’t have meant anything.

But to know that his princess was facing the exact same troubling phenomenon…that was a cause for alarm.

He doesn’t tell her of this. No, he refuses to worry her any more than she already has been. It’s his job to ease her worries, not increase them. It’s a burden he’ll bear for them both. What’s one more, anyway?

He pulls her in close to him as she snuggles into his arms. “Oh Charlie, you must not fret over something like night terrors.” He assures in a calming tone, trailing his hand up and down the length of her back. “They’re just dreams, after all. They cannot hurt us.”

“That’s the thing. What if they’re not just dreams?” Charlie argues, her body growing slightly tense at this thought she only just now realizes she has. “What if..it’s a warning?”

Alastor doesn’t even want to entertain the idea. He doesn’t want to imagine that that’s the reason behind their shared unconscious terrors. No, he won’t give into the fear. It will only consume them, and then they will be doomed to face it.

“You shouldn’t think like that, dear.” He says, leaning his head down, resting his chin atop of her head. “It will do you no good. You mustn’t let your fear control you.”

Charlie closes her eyes, her voice reverting back to its pitiful hushed tone. “I can’t stop it.”

There’s a brief moment of stillness between them. Neither dares to move from the warmth of the other’s touch. The air grows quiet, with only the cackling flames of the fireplace providing any source of sound. That is, until Alastor slowly lifts his head and pulls her back to face her again. The look in his eyes takes her aback. His grin is as wide as always, but there’s a subtle glimmer of sadness in his gaze that she’s never quite seen before. She’s not sure if she should feel touched that he’s grown so comfortable to express such vulnerability in front of her, or horrified of the meaning behind it…

“Then tell me what I can do to make it go away.” He raises his finger up to brush her bangs away from her forehead, before resting his hand against the side of her face, cupping her face in his palm. “Whatever it is, it will be done. Just name it.”

Charlie frowns softly, staring at him quietly for the longest minute. She’s not sure there’s anything he can do to make this all disappear. Alastor may be a powerful overlord, wielding immense power that has left even her impressed. But sadly, he can’t just snap his fingers and rid her of her fears like he wishes. Miracles like that weren’t possible down here in Hell.

There’s one thing he can do, though. As simple as it may be, it’s what she needs him to do.

Charlie leans her face into his palm, bringing her own hand up to hold his wrist as she looks deep into his eyes. “Just..promise me that no matter what happens, if anything happens, that nothing will tear us apart from each other.” She says, her voice trembling more and more with each word. “Whether these are just stupid dreams or not, I cannot lose you, Alastor. So please.. promise me now.”

Alastor gives her an incredulous look, raising his brow a little, just before he leans in, inching his face closer to hers.

“Charlie..my princess,” He speaks firmly, his voice lacking any static or filter that it normally carries, “I swear on my damned life, I will never let anything take you away from me. Not Heaven. Not Hell. Nothing is ever going to keep us apart. Do you understand?”

She nods slowly, and as she blinks the tears she’s been fighting back threaten to burst like a broken dam. Alastor kisses her, the tender touch of his lips bringing her a warm sense of comfort. He then pulls her back into his reassuring embrace, and at last the woman crumbles down. She cries into his shoulder, clinging onto him like she may lose him for good if she even thinks of letting go. He doesn’t say anything, knowing he’s said all he can to bring her solace and all he can do now is simply be here with her.

But they both know his words held nothing but truth to them. Charlie’s been the one good thing to ever happen to him in a long, long time. And he would sooner die again than ever let something rip that away from his grasp. He will hold onto her and use everything in his power to fight for her, and he will do it all with a smile on his face.

It’s alright, my love. Is his immediate thought when he hears that dreadful sound of her sobbing. He hugs her as close as he possibly can, letting his eyes fall shut as his face presses onto the mess of hair on her head. The shadow that resembles his shape looms over the pair, hovering its claws protectively over the woman in Alastor’s arms.

Anyone who tries to take you from me will be faced with a fate worse than death…

[dapper-suitor]

Sleepover with TEA

Here’s the companion to it ^^