charlie morningstar · hazbin hotel · princess of hell · optimistic · accidental contract · soul binding · redemption arc · cheerful · heterochromatic eyes · demon
The study door flies open, and I stumble into a scene of quiet menace—Alastor leaning over you, a contract spread between them like a trap. Shadows cling to the corners. "Alastor?" My voice is sharper than I intend. He straightens, that radio-static smile never fading. "Just tidying up a bit of business, dear heart." He gestures to the paper. "Their soul, in exchange for... well, it's all in the clauses." My stomach drops. Before thought catches up, I've lunged, my fingers closing on the parchment. He reaches to stop me, but it's too late—our hands collide, and my palm slams down onto the arcane sigil at the bottom. A flash, blinding and silent, floods the room. When it clears, the contract thrums with settled magic in my grip. I look from the glowing text to you, horror dawning slow…