we (might) set the world alight

your eyes are like a thorny diamond (angels and demons come and go)

Charlie knew she shouldn't favour anyone living, since her combined demonic and fallen angel energy might influence the life of whoever she favoured and draw them to sinning, to her kingdom in Hell.

But she couldn't help it; he was so handsome and charming. Ever so kind and gentlemanly, as well. She always watched him as he went about his day; Alastor never raised his hand against anyone who didn't deserve it and always treated people with respect and kindness-especially women. But there was one woman he adored the most: his mother. Never before had Charlie seen such a sweet, warm bond between mother and son. He showered his mother with so much love and care, singing and dancing with her as they cooked together, making her laugh as often as he could, making sure she never worked herself to the bone and always tried his best to support her.

Charlie loved watching him sing and dance; he did it with so much life and happiness in his eyes, his smile filled with love as he moved to the rhythm of the music. She liked that smile of his the best. It sometimes worried her that he would smile no matter what, even when he was sad or upset. Charlie wished he wouldn't smile when he wasn't happy or excited-the way his cheeks would freeze in place, his eyes widening ever so slightly, his lips tightening a little too much. It looked wrong. Unnatural.

The first time Charlie saw his smile fade completely was when Alastor's mother died. Charlie cried with him that day, watching with an aching heart and eyes raining tears down her cheeks as he fell to his knees by the coffin, uncaring of who saw, sobbing. It was the first time she'd ever seen him cry, and she wanted to comfort him.

Her heart broke little by little, seeing him so devoid of life and energy in the days after his mother's passing. She so badly wished to help him somehow, to let him know that he wasn't alone like he thought he was. To tell him someone loved him, even if it wasn't his mother.

Charlie searched and searched, endlessly, for a way to help him. Paging through books, asking her mother and father for advice (even if she didn't tell them it was all for a living man), going to the Ars Goetia and begging for anything of use... all of it unhelpful. So Charlie was forced to only watch him, as he withered into a shell as time passed.

Then it hit her: if she could somehow find a way to the Living world and find him, she might be able to guide him to a better life!

So she pored over books again and again, looking for a discreet way to cross over without involving anyone else, for fear they might tell her parents. After many days of research and investigation, she found her solution. Triumphantly, she set about preparing for the spell she needed, and the journey that came after her arrival.

And somewhere amidst the search, Alastor began smiling again. Charlie rejoiced at first, until she looked closer and saw that his smile was different, not like any she'd seen him wear before. This was one was frozen, not just cold and unmoving, but fixed as if carved from stone. The Princess of Hell had frowned as she watched him the first day that smile appeared, wishing he was truly smiling instead of just smiling to hide his hurt and anger. She truly wanted him to smile because he wanted to, because he was happy, not just put on a smile to hide behind.

By the time he started killing people, Charlie was already too attached him to care. She was just glad that he was truly smiling again. It might've been odd that she was happy over someone in the living world killing other people, but his smile after a hunt was warm with life, glowing almost. It was the smile he wore when dancing with him mother, and Charlie had missed it.

Maybe it was true what her parents told her, that her energy corrupted him, and that was why he started killing all those people so brutally. She watched him even still, eyes widened not in horror but in interest, because even if she wasn't as cruel or vindictive as other denizens of Hell-including her parents-she was a Hellborn nonetheless. And he was so artful with his bloodshed, using his hands and knives to orchestrate his kills. It enchanted her.

Even the fact that he ate most of his human prey didn't bother her.

If killing other people and eating them made him smile like that, content and joyful, the blonde wouldn't judge him. Instead, she watched over him, sent him signs when the police were nearby, or when there were witnesses to kill. She'd even picked up on his preferred victim (and couldn't help but feel a bit of pride in him when she realised he mostly killed people that commited even worse acts than he did: rape, molestation, child-trafficking, e tc.) and gave him a nudge in their direction.

She knew what she was doing was foolish, being so attached to a human and helping him sin, but Charlie was unble to stop herself. The urge to protect this broken, hurting man was immense, and she was weak against people who do bad things out of hurt, knowing what it was like to be in so much pain that she'd do anything to make it stop, even for a bit. She was just glad that Alastor could still smile that way even after all that's happened to him.

Alastor may have been one of the most violent and merciless humans she'd ever met and Charlie could bet that he'd die before he ever stopped killing other people, but she knew that kind man was still in him. He was still there and she knew it; that was why the Princess of Hell gave him her blessing (or would it be a curse since she was a Hellborn?). Because even after a long night of killing, he was still the courteous, charming man he was before his mother's death during the day. Alastor never stole anything, never harmed anyone unless provoked (aside from his hunts) and always remained smiling.

"Oh, Alastor," she sighed as she watched him through the mirror. "Why must you be such a handsome sinner? You make it so hard for me to excoriate you."

The object of her affections was currently torturing the man who'd called him a distasteful slur on the bus earlier that night as he was drunkenly stumbling out of a bar, irate when he'd bumped into Alastor and the musically inclined man had simply frowned. Charlie had watched as the foolish drunkard picked a fight where wouldn't have been on had he been sober, and almost clapped when Alastor took a deep, centering breath before he turned around and swiftly decked the man across the cheek with a right hook.

She eagerly sat back and waited for his performance to begin.