I'm Working On The Next Chapter Of My Charlastor Fic! It Feels So Weird To Be Writing By Myself. I'm

I'm working on the next chapter of my Charlastor fic! It feels so weird to be writing by myself. I'm used to friends or beta readers pitching in but right now, it's just me and Spotify.

thursday needs a meme, here’s my attempt to contribute. it’s thursday and i’m here to help. thanks

His Blue Serge Chapter 2:

Alastor was impressed. That seemed to be happening a lot lately. This little Demon Belle, her determination, her will.

Her power.

The princess had taken control of their deal. In making deals, usually only one person holds the contract. If you were to ask dear old Husker the specifics of his deal, he would surely be able to tell you the gist of it, how he had fallen to the Radio Demons' misconstrued offer of ‘help’. If you were to ask Alastor, well he could pull out the signed contract composed of his magic and read off every little footnote, details of the initial encounter listed there, even footnotes about how body language can be interpreted as consent for certain aspects of the deal not quite spoken out loud. It was all there, recorded thanks to the magic that comes with making deals.

But Charlie, oh Charlie! She had gripped his hand, and by simple willpower, split the power of the deal between them. Due to the switch-up of power, there was no physical manifestation of the deal, no contract that could be manifested, just the bond of their spoken word. That may make things more difficult for Alastor later on when he would choose to cash in his favor, but he was not deterred by the risks that insinuated.

No, he was simply overjoyed at the display of power. Charlie would be a truly formidable foe if she chose to make herself one. Luckily, Alastor planned to keep her on his good side for quite a while longer. Oh, how could he not when she proved to be just too entertaining? Even Rosie was able to see the potential just under the surface of the princess's kind demeanor, and Dearest Rosie was quite the judge of character.

Though since the battle, the dear princess seemed to be gloomy. She wasn't going so far as to lock herself in her room again, but it was very clear that the Doll would make herself scarce at the sight of a particular winged gal. He took notice one day when the main staff was gathered together, working the logistics of some of the cannibal colony staying after the battle had concluded. Apparently, Charlie had charmed them so well they’d like to stick around!

The short stack of a king wasn’t around, not used to being around so many people for extended periods. He had locked himself away in his suite, luckily on the other side of the hotel as the Radio Tower in which Alastor resided. He listened into the meeting taking place a few stories down through a hidden shadow.

Angel had excused himself, after a call from Valentino in which the moth claimed to be struck by inspiration, and needed the spider fella for an impromptu shoot. Husker was passed out at the coffee table, in this little lounge where they had originally gathered for the meeting.

Nifty had scurried off, chasing a bug that had landed on the window sill from outside. This was a pest-free house and she damn well intended to keep it that way. No one was particularly worried when this endeavor ended up with her physically leaving the window to chase the bug up the side of the building.

And that left the Darling Princess and her former lover. And the Shadow that lurked where no one knew of its presence, quietly listening in for the Radio Demon. He often felt inclined to tune in for the meetings they had, even if he didn’t feel the need to be there to contribute.

Vaggie had stopped trying to wake up Husker when she realized that this was probably the first time she and Charlie were ‘Left Alone’ since before the battle. Charlie noticed a beat after her and quickly scrambled to her feet, gathering up the papers and crayons that she could, some being trapped under Husker's prone form.

“Well, I guess let's call it there for today. See you guys later.” The princess said to the room, not addressing Vaggie despite her being the only one in the room who would probably hear her. To her knowledge that is. Alastor smirked, still glad to have the occasional upper hand over his colleagues. Relaxing back into his plush chair and lifting his coffee mug to his face, he listened in to what he hoped would be an embarrassing stumble on the angel's part.

“Wait, Charlie-” there it was. “I really think we should talk.” Oh, how delicious. This should be absolutely heart-wrenching for the two.

“Now really isn’t a good time Vaggie. I have paperwork to do.” The princess was rubbing her forehead beneath her short horns, trying to smooth out the stress lines forming there. “Maybe later.” She left no room for discussion as she walked towards the door, hoping to flee to her own little part of the hotel, where Dazzle was surely waiting for her. She stopped, stepping back when she saw Vaggie blocking the path with an outstretched wing.

The grey-pallor woman looked more ashen than usual as she breathed out a plea. “It’s been weeks.” Alastor could hear the quiver in her voice. “We need to talk.”

Charlie lightly stomped her hoof in irritation, holding her papers closer to her chest. “And I said not now . So, if you’ll excuse me.” She went to walk around the wing but it strained further as Vaggie pushed herself in between the Princess and the exit.

“Charlie, please. You haven’t even let me explain-” The angel was quickly cut off.

“I have heard plenty. I have heard your tale when you told Angel in the lobby; explained it to Nifty over and over every time she asked; when you sent Husk after me as an unwilling middleman.” Tears came to the princess's eyes, carrying a bloody sclera with them.” I have heard what you have to say, and it doesn’t change the fact that you lied. I am done. I am over it. I am moving on.”

She attempted again to walk past the outstretched wing, but this time, since it could stretch no farther, Vaggie pushed herself in the way. “Charlie-”

“I said,” The princess's black-tipped nails turned into claws, “Leave me alone.”

It wasn’t so much as a roar, as a low growl. But the power of it sent a burst of magic through the room. Invisible as it was, it knocked Vaggie over to the side and out of the way, poor Husker off the table and out of his nap, and even dispersed the lurking shades. Much to the surprise of Alastor.

He jolted up from his chair, dropping his coffee mug as he felt winded. His shadow crawled up from him, looking just as confused as his counterpart. Now what under Hell’s red skies was that?

Ever the curious cat, Alastor found his way through the shadows to a hall nearby, that may just happen to be on Charlie's way to her room. He could feel that it was her magic that had dispelled him, so clearly she was the one to approach for information. He casually made his way in the right direction, humming a sickly sweet tune to himself as he practically waltzed right into the crying princess.

“Oh! Why Charlie, Dear! I didn’t see you there! How did the-” Alastor stopped himself. He was never at a loss for words, but they seemed to flee as he looked down at the poor doll he had knocked over. As expected, she had tears of frustration in her eyes, but less expected was the torn sheets of paper in her clutches, held tightly under extended claws, her palms swollen and blackened. He had noted that the little horns were now an ever-present feature upon her head, but he noticed the way they seemed shifted to red as they extended past her bangs. She glared up at him- the gall of this gal! And stubbornly pushed herself right back up. “Well dear, you look a mess. What is that all about?” He asked, ignoring her razor-sharp claws and taking the ripped sheets from her grasp.

Alastor looked over the now hardly legible sheets- just a shame, too. Charlie, even though she used crayons of all things to scribe with, had such neat handwriting. Charlie gawked at him and moved as if to take the pages back, but seeing the black engulfing her forearms, resolved to tuck her hands under her armpits and glare once more.

“As if you don’t know.” Her glare turned into more of a pout and she moved around the taller demon and marched towards her room.

Alastor raised an eyebrow at her, stuffing the torn sheets into his lapel as he moved to follow her. “How would I know why you are missing that beautiful smile of yours? I am just now coming downstairs.” The demoness's claws seemed to shrink as she took deep breaths, but the discoloration had yet to recede. Alastor mistook this as her feeling guilt for throwing accusations at him but was immediately corrected.

Charlie turned to him, her arms still crossed to (poorly) hide her still receding claws. “You can sit in in the meetings you know. It might be nice to have your input every now and then as a partner of the hotel.” She scoffed and blew a chunk of hair over her horn. “Unless your shadows can talk and not just listen.”

He worked very hard not to let the surprise show on his face. So the Princess could sense his shadows now? Or had she always been able to and had just not said anything until now? Nevertheless, he took the new information in stride.

“If I feel I have input, I will certainly give it.” He fixed the piece of hair that Charlie was still blowing at, refusing to move her hands out from where she hid them. Once it was tucked decently to the side, Alastor made a show of getting in her space. He leaned in close, ignoring the way her red eyes almost faded into her sclera. The Princess valued truth, so he would give it. “While my shadows are decent for listening in to keep me filled in on important matters, they are not great for showing what is actually happening.”

Alastor produced his radio staff- or at least the top half of it. He had been unable to repair it after his scuffle with that loud angel fellow, but he could still hear his broadcasts from the head of it if it was at the right angle. He held it up to Charlie as if that explained everything. Finally, the red faded from her sclera, as her horns receded into her head until they were barely poking up at her bangs. The taller demon smiled down at her as she shook out her palms, the black finally receding to the tips of her fingers once more as she sighed in relief.

“There we are! You really mustn’t work yourself up so, Darling.” After brushing her cheek with the back of his own clawed hand, he moved further down the hallway. Holding the broken staff behind him as he walked, he led the way to another sitting room which would hopefully be empty. He considered for a moment just going to the princess's room, but as much as he loved irritating her, he was wary of her on-edge mood.

Charlie sighed and followed him, making his smile grow wider as he heard the steps echo his own. He took comfort in being in control of the situation, the location of discussion, and now even the Princess's mood. Even if she was still upset, she was considerably in more control of herself than she had been moments ago.

Alastor played the role of comforting friend quite well. He had settled the Princess down on the couch that was near a fireplace, igniting the embers and summoning a fresh glass of honey lavender tea. It did wonders for the headaches you received after crying, you wouldn’t believe! His mother would make him some when he was a lad after he threw one of his fits, and it would put him at ease as she soothed him.

Although he didn’t share any of that with the blonde now curled up against the arm of the couch, she still gratefully went for the cup, and sipped at it as though it were ambrosia, and to spill a single drop would be a sin.

“Now,” Alastor said much softer than he normally would, keeping in mind the fragile state of the creature before him. “What on earth was all that?”

He wouldn’t deny that he was listening in, just as much as he would deny how lost he was at the display of power after the angel had tried to force Charlie to talk to her.

With a sigh and another long sip, Charlie moved the cup to her chest and began to rub around the base of one horn. “I’m not sure actually.” She shrunk in on herself as Alastor made himself comfortable in a recliner across from her. “I was just mad- I don’t know. Frustrated that Vaggie was trying to- to. Well.” another heavy sigh brought the tea back to her lips.

The Radio Demon considered the Demoness across from him. Such a kind and pure soul; such raw, unadulterated power. She could probably strike him down with a single finger, a thought, and a breath. But did she know that? He watched her with careful eyes and she searched the contents of her drink, as though it may carry the words she was looking for. Charlotte Morningstar, heir to the throne of Hell, child of an Archangel, and the original Demon, was like a toddler holding a loaded gun. The safety was off, and while she might understand the danger the weapon posed, she didn’t know how to hold it or fire it without injuring herself.

“Oh, dear.”

Charlie threw her head up at the man, eyes wide as he looked at her, smiling small and cocky as he tutted and shook his head.

“You have no clue how to control those powers of yours, do you?”

Charlie shrunk in on herself, as impossible as it seemed, knees to her chest and chin resting between her knees so she could still see the sinner. She was smart to not take her eyes of him. Why she looked so much like a cornered animal, a hunter standing before it ready to take the kill. But Alastor was smart, too. He knew to be wary of an animal who feels cornered.

Charlie refused to let words escape her lips, but it was just as much a confirmation as Alastor needed in order to steer the conversation. He considered the short and adorable horns peeking from the Princess's temple. Of course, he had noted that they never went away, but he thought about what they could mean. She had formally only shown them during brief moments of weakness and frustration, and the appearance of them was intense but brief. While they usually shot up to a foot, they never lingered for more than a few seconds.

“Perhaps you are too stressed lately, my dear.” Alastor coaxed her, rising from his seat to take her glass. She reluctantly handed it over, not feeling satisfied that she hadn’t been able to finish it, but feeling better even with the little she had received.

“Well, it’s not like I can do anything about it. We finally have patrons coming in. If I can’t handle this then what was the point of it all.” She pushed her hand into her hairline, getting caught on a horn and unmistakably surprising herself with it. She went back to rubbing soothingly around the bases of them. “Of the war, of the death! Of-” She choked, forcing herself to take a deep breath. Alastor put a finger up to his chin, thinking for a moment before summoning a blanket to his hands and dramatically draping it over the princess. Still curled up, it covered her completely, draping over her frame and the back of the couch. She uncurled a little from her ball and poked her head out of the side, the blanket stopping to hang over her face by the pull of her horns. “Al?”

“Sweet Charlie! You really haven’t even had a second since the battle have you?” He danced away towards the door. “I recommend you take the rest of the day to yourself. No paperwork! No patrons! No pesky Vagatha to upset you.” He spun around and gestured as Charlie adjusted the blanket off from her head, causing it to fall down onto her shoulder. “You know, I just checked and she is on her way to your chambers. I doubt you’d get any peace if she found you! Ha!” He laughed heartily as he held his middle. At Charlie's panicked face- and the way her horns grew ever so slightly he relaxed his shoulders and made his way back over to her.

“What am I supposed to do?” she asked quietly, and Alastor couldn’t help thinking of how wonderfully helpless she looked, wrapped up in the blanket with tears in her eyes. He casually shrugged and gestured to the princess buried on the couch.

“You could stay here! I doubt dear old Vagatha would think to look in this random Lounge for you.” He laughed again. “It’s the perfect place to have a good rest don’t you think?” He had hardly turned to move towards the door again when Charlie called for him again.

“Alastor! But what about what happened?” She withdrew any pause she had regarding delving her secrets to the dangerous demon. “I don’t know how I did it, or how to avoid doing it again!” Tears broke from her eyes as she clutched the blanket around her tightly, wishing it could suffocate her worries away. “What do I do?” She cried to the demon who stood frozen for only a moment. He corrected himself and relaxed his smile once more.

“Why I already told you, my dear!” He made his way over to her, an animalistic glint in his eyes as he kneeled before her, causing her to hold her breath in anticipation. He reached for her face, causing her to screw her eyes shut. She felt his palm rest over her eyes, the light from the fireplace no longer reaching her through her eyelids. “Rest.” He said as he ran his palm up off of her eyes, and to her forehead. The darkness remained though his hand was no longer there, and as his hand reached them, her horns finally retracted into her scalp. Releasing the tension she had been carrying for weeks there, her brows finally unfurrowed as the darkness spread from her vision to her mind. She was completely relaxed now, sleep quickly finding her. “ Rest .”

I love that when people spell out Blitzø's name they do the ø, but I can't read it as just Blitz. Every time it's "Blitz the o is silent." Fully read out in my brain.

Charlie struggles with her magic in the aftermath of the battle and her relationship.

Alastor finds himself thoroughly amused.

His Blue Serge

Chapter 1:

She didn’t know what she was doing. All she had was a hope and a dream.

A dream for her, a dream for her people, a dream… with no substantial backing.

Charlie MorningStar, Princess of Hell. Daughter of the Morningstar himself and child of the First Sinner. When she tried to talk to her mother about her ideas, wanting to save the souls that fell, the woman looked down at her kindly, appreciating that she’d want to save the souls that followed her to the blaze as a result of her mistakes. But amongst all the emotion was pity.

How could a damned soul reach heaven? The forever lost paradise. Yet her mother let her dream, said nary a word against the silly dreams that Charlie would rant about as she moved her toys along the carpet, explaining how everyone would eventually get along.

Then there was her father. Sat away in his own dark corner of Hell. When she did happen across him, sneaking into his workshop when her mother wasn’t looking, she saw his dreams. Of gilded skies and how they could be filled with ethereal entities beyond that of Angels and Man. The Fallen Angel did not speak much of his kingdom's people. Hellborne or Sinner-Spawns. His eyes ached for a way to reach beyond the skies he was confined to.

When he fell, he was not simply banished from heaven's pearly gates. He was trapped in the realm, to the rings that would bend to his will, yet never beyond. Damned to never see his stars again, damned to never venture further than he once dared.

When he spoke of heaven, there was the ache of longing.

The Princess wanted a way to redeem others, so they could go to heaven. Be it for the sinner-spawn, or her father. It was harder to distinguish as they grew older, and grew apart.

She inherited that ache. The want for something more. For better.

When her parents first gifted her the mansion in Pentagram City, it was intended for her to be able to grow on her own. “Spread her wings,” her father said. They wouldn’t force her to move out, but when she decided she was ready to build her kingdom and rule her people- because they were never her father's people- they would support her in building her own palace.

They offered her royal staff, cooks, maids, and servants to wait on her hand and foot.

Many were hand-selected because of their renowned abilities that had become known on Earth.

Upon hearing this, she wept.

Her parents would support her in her pursuit to rule her kingdom. But how could she be able to face the sinners knowing there was nothing she could truly do to protect them? From each other, from the punishment of their realm, from extermination. What kind of a queen would that make her?

When she did move out, it was with two servants and a hellborne animal that resembled a cat. It was actually a catalyst for magic, a familiar of sorts. She would help Charlie use her own magic, and control the lofty powers that she held and hardly used. She didn’t want the power if it couldn’t help her Kingdom.

Her hesitation brought about the ridicule of her people, but her mother nodded along to her rants and woes, telling her it was all to be done in her own time. She wasn’t planning on ending her performances any time soon.

And then the Queen disappeared. It was a new century, and the queen who once traveled the realms, singing for her people, had not said hello to the new dawn at the break of the decade.

Charlie sought out her father after the citizens began to notice the lack of their queen's voice, but was dismissed. It was almost as if he was unaware of anything going on outside of his own world. Which Charlie argued should be much larger than what it currently was. The angel seemed to withdraw even more after that, the presence of his queen gone, taking whatever supports were holding him up.

On the bright side, due to him being so secluded, the realms didn’t really notice the withdrawal from the king. They held him in as high of a regard as they ever did, and with fear of his legend.

Then that left Charlie. Charlie MorningStar. Heir to the Kingdom of Hell. Daughter of the feared MorningStar and the absent Queen who was the voice for the fallen. The coward who held love in her heart and refused to claim her power.

The idiot who declared that she would save her people with no plan. Only a dream.

The princess knew what a joke everyone thought she was. She didn’t exactly remember when it had gone public, but her dreams of redemption had sinners in the streets laughing in her face, Imps sneering from across the way- Her ‘forgotten people.’ It’s not as though she was neglecting her duties as princess, but even she had to admit how it came across to the Hellborne, trying to remove the human souls to “Save them from their fates here in the Pit.” But in her defense, this was Hell! A place made to punish. The Hellborne suffered, but not nearly as much as those who were damned here as punishment. Her people needed relief.

Especially during extermination.

The streets of Pentagram City were mostly quiet on the days leading up to the extermination. Many forgot territorial pacts to team up and try and hunker down until the carnage passed. Many bought spells to put on their doors, others resorted to good old-fashioned wood and nails, and some simply took what they could carry and left. As if that would spare them. The worst of it was those who had decided their fate. Their Hells had proven more than their souls could handle, and they waited out on the streets, for what some called “The Angels Mercy.”

It broke the Princess's heart. The ache in her chest she felt for those who lay in the streets days before the extermination would fall upon them. Some would beat, yell and even kill to try and get those sinners away from their homes and stores, not wanting the angels to be led directly to them. But sinners would sit and take it, and those who were offed respawned somewhere, where they’d stay until either they were killed again or the Angels found them.

A few years ago, Charlie found herself begging at the feet of a younger sinner. Beaten beyond recognition, but ultimately left to his chosen fate in this spot he had chosen. She stayed there next to him, holding onto him while begging for his permission to carry him off to safety. She didn’t move until an angelic spear pierced his skull, splattering blood in a neat stream across her neck and chin.

She was totally passed over, as she would be every extermination, just as the Hellborne would be. Despite there being no danger to her well-being, she began waiting inside during the exterminations. She offered her home to any who would wish to seek shelter with her but was again laughed off. The Sinners would rather face the consequences of being on the streets during extermination than be caught hiding behind the cowardly, powerless princess.

But as soon as the last Angel would disappear into the sky, she would run off with a first aid kit, offering help and medicine to any who might have survived the attack. It was rare that a soul be left alive after encountering an Angel, but there were the odd cases, and then those who were taken advantage of by those they tried to hide with, being beaten then thrown to the wolves yet somehow being spared.

That was how the Princess met Vaggie. Wearing clothes that didn’t fit her, bloody as if pulled off the corpse of another sinner, collapsed in pain against a mound of trash in an alley not far from the mansion.

The Princess was used to helping people then being pushed aside, sometimes robbed for any painkiller she had on her, ridiculed for her kind heart. There was the occasional reluctant thanks, someone who, without her help, would undoubtedly have perished to whatever wounds had been afflicted by the Angels.

They knew they wouldn’t respawn if they had.

Vaggie was the first to allow her to help, who had smiled when she thanked her, who limped back to her home to a makeshift hospital area set up in the foyer. She was the only sinner who ever wept into Princess Charlotte’s arms as she assured her the Angels were gone, she was safe now.

Oh if she had known the irony.

If she had known the truth about the one-eyed girl who stayed by her side for three years, helped her try and develop a plan to convince her people that redemption wasn’t a bad idea, to try and find a way to convince heaven itself.

It pained her to visit the place her father had been cast out of, the reason for so much of his woes. She hated that she loved it. She found herself smiling after the very beings responsible for so much pain and anguish. It had helped a little when it had been revealed that they didn’t know about the exterminations, only a select few and the exterminators themselves.

The exterminators. One accompanied Adam, just as one had accompanied her.

Of course, this was something that would have been obvious to her if she had simply truly looked at the other, even just once. Her people were right. She was an idiot and a coward. And it had cost her. After they returned to the mansion turned hotel, she refused to look at the Angel that followed, refused to hear her story out, and locked herself away in her room.

Her girlfriend had lied to her. She had said she was a prostitute in life, hence why she was in hell. She should have known. No sinner was so open about their life, especially right off the bat. Not to the poor excuse of a Royal she was. And then she led her on about her dream, let her make a fool of herself to the Angels. She could have been completely honest about who she was, and the sweet naive princess would have believed her, would have held her all the more dear for it.

Now she was back to the beginning, holding nothing more than her dreams. Her plans were down the drain, and she’d have to figure out how to protect not just her people, but her dream itself from the angel's wrath. Even her own safety was on the line, something she never really had to worry about before.

Sweet Razzle held up a tissue box for her as she wept, silently as she could. As soon as she had closed the door to her room she was able to hear the echo of her wail before she could choke it down. She would not let the others hear it again. The ache of her horns pushed to be free, but she let her sorrow wash over it like soothing water as she kept her anger underneath the surface.

“Oh Charlie, you look an absolute mess!” the radio-filtered voice sang. She crunched her eyes up into a glare and tried to push her tears back before she hid her face.

“Go away, Alastor.”, she groaned. The red-clad demon perched himself on her bed, right up against her leg, forcing her to bring it closer to herself to avoid contact.

“Now, now, is that any way to act after picking a fight with all of Heaven and dooming everyone you love?” He leaned closer to her, and she could feel his smile through the sheets of her bedspread.

Everyone you love. Would that include Vaggie? There was a reason the girl was in Hell. She had fallen. Could she truly be mad at her for hiding that? Like a cop in prison would hide their service on the force. But this was different.

“I have enough on my mind without hearing your sadistic idea of a joke,” she sat up to cover her ears and roll over,”asshole!”

Where she would usually see the hard but loving smile of the one who lied to her, she now saw the wide smile, and almost manic eyes of the Radio Demon. “Whose joking?” he drew as Charlie threw herself back from the others face. As she landed on the floor, he nonchalantly continued, “You have a captive audience downstairs waiting to hear what kind of inspiring performance you have planned next.”

Charlie climbed up so her chin and arm were resting on her bed. She spotted the deer-esque demon slightly sitting up on his side, resting his head on his arm as if it was the most casual thing in the world for him to be imposing in a Royal’s space. She really was a joke.

She cried her woes to him, her frustrations with her partner, and how hopeless she felt against the invincible angels. Even without embracing her true powers, she could feel the energy in the room shift as he turned away from her and sang.

“ I know something youuuu don’t know. ”

She knew, even before he would offer to make a deal, that she was trapped. Whether or not she left this room with her soul, or whatever she had to pass for one, intact. But she truly considered herself. What she had, and what she no longer had left to lose. Thankfully, he didn’t ask for her soul, just a favor.

“What’s a favor between friends?”

She wouldn’t have to hurt anyone, and she would have a chance to save her dream. Her home. She knew her answer, and let the pressure on her skull release as her horns sprouted, not unlike the antlers that sat upon Alastors crown.

She knew her answer when she took the glowing hand in hers.

Now one may think that the energy that exploded from their joined hands was a result of a deal taking place. That wouldn’t be entirely incorrect either. But it was not just the sinners' arcane magic sealing the deal. At that moment, Princess Charlie, Daughter of the Morningstar and Heir to the throne now that the queen was MIA, embraced more than the sinner's hands. She allowed herself to reach down into herself, burning in her heart as she reached for the powers that lie deep beneath the surface of her essence. The small cat-like creature ran towards them from under the bed, and as soon as she crossed the threshold of where their magic met, beneath their clasped hands, the green energy became pink as it cracked the glass dome that loomed above the princess's home, leaving evidence of the deal being made as the energy spread.

Alastor, surprised, held her hand tighter, antlers shooting up more as his limbs became just a tad too long to be comfortable.

The small creature ran out the other side of them and into the safety under Charlie's desk, and thus the deal was made. By the time their hands separated, Vaggie had broken down the door to her room. She knew the answers she was looking for now, and what to do if they wanted a chance. They had danced into her mind's eye, moving oddly like a running deer across her vision. She didn’t regard the gray pallor angel in her doorway. Walking past her, her horns now resting at an uncomfortably short length as she- for the first time it felt like- strode into the hall and down the stairs with the grace and regality befitting of her station.

She would save her people, no matter the costs to herself.

The battle was long. The battle was cruel. The battle was over.

Many souls were lost, including Sir Pentious. The first real patron of the hotel after Angel. Razzle was struck down, leaving Dazzle confused and hovering at Charlie's heel, feeling the loss of his other half.

Charlie had mostly ignored Vaggie until the battle, only talking to her when others were in the room. The rest of the hotel seemed to take the fact that she was an angel in stride. When she returned from Carmilla's with wings it was celebrated. Charlie didn’t even think to ask whether or not her wings were intact after finding out her girlfriend was an angel.

She had talked to Rosie when in cannibal town. The kind cannibal asked her questions, to soothe the princess. “Do you love this girl? Have you ever doubted that she loves you?”

Not until that fateful day in heaven. Since then, she had been nothing but unsure. When she told the overlord that, she bit her lip, mentioning how the hotel was all about redemption. Charlie agreed that she wanted redemption to be available to everybody, but could she personally forgive her? “Perhaps this girl is trying to redeem herself, too.”

That had really helped. Gave her a clear mindset so that she could influence the colony of sinners to help her (with the help of Alastor).

Charlie, Princess of hell, had a dream of redemption. After the angels retreated, only two staying behind in the carnage to help rebuild, she felt that her dream was possible. With the help of her friends, she rebuilt the mansion, better than before. She had raised the ground from beneath her with the help of her father's magic, and once Alastor returned they completed the renovations.

The hotel was back, bigger, and better than ever.

And she and Vaggie had separate rooms.

No words crossed between the former lovers, but there was an understanding. That trust had been broken, and space was needed. Vaggie didn’t know if this was permanent or not, but she was allowed to stay, to continue to help with Charlie's dream. While she was desperate to talk to Charlie about their current situation, she was never given an opportunity. She was very concerned about the Deal made with the Radio Demon. It may not be her place to step in anymore- if it ever was, but even if it was just a favor, would Charlie come out of it in one piece?

Soooo say I have a Charlaster fic in a Google doc that I casually work on at random intervals. Usually at three am. Would people read it?

It's about 12k words so far.

Concept: Charlie's powers are a little haywire, and while dealing with that and her break up, Alastor proves to be a good friend.

Soooo say I have a Charlaster fic in a Google doc that I casually work on at random intervals. Usually at three am. Would people read it?

It's about 12k words so far.

Concept: Charlie's powers are a little haywire, and while dealing with that and her break up, Alastor proves to be a good friend.