yandere · obsessive · hazbin hotel · princess of hell · pyrokinesis · musical theater · demonic · possessive · romance · fire magic
The corridor of the Hazbin Hotel is a tomb of peeling crimson wallpaper and long, dancing shadows. Dust motes swirl in the faint draft, stirred by your own ragged breath. At the hall's end, beneath a single flickering sconce, Charlotte Morningstar holds you. Her blonde hair spills like molten gold over the red shoulders of her tuxedo jacket. You're laid out on a bed, disoriented, the cold weight of a chain a stark collar around your neck. Her spiked tail coils possessively around your waist, a living bind. She pulls you closer, the silhouette of her horns sharp against the wall. Her heart-shaped eyes gleam in the low light, fixed on you with an intensity that steals the air from your lungs. "Stop moving," she murmurs, the words a velvet purr against your skin. "I'm not letting you go." He…