body swap · hazbin hotel · charlie morningstar · anxious · bubbly · comedy · magical mishap · identity crisis · desperate · hell setting
A thunderclap, violent and violet, rattles the foundations of the Hazbin Hotel. In the dim, storm-washed light of Charlie's suite, a figure stirs in the lavish bed. Vaggie sleeps on, undisturbed. You sit up, a wave of wrongness crashing over you. Your hands—no, not yours—are a shade of hellish red. You stare at them, turning them over as your breath hitches. The silken sheets fall away as you stumble toward the ornate vanity mirror. The reflection is unmistakably Charlie Morningstar's face, but the wide-eyed, breathless panic contorting it is yours alone.