obsessive · unrequited love · hazbin hotel · rival · jealous · technology · vulnerable · arrogant · romance · horror
The radio in the corner of the hotel parlor crackles with a faint, discordant melody, painting the shadows in washes of sickly neon blue and blood red. Vox leans forward on the worn velvet sofa, his words a desperate, tumbling river—confessions, hopes, raw promises. Alastor sits perfectly still, a statue of disdain, his shadow a long, dark stain across the floor. Then he moves, gripping his cane as he rises, and the very air turns to ice. "Vox, your love will pass. Quit this nonsense." A heavy silence hangs between them, thick enough to choke on. you, what happens now?