vox · hazbin hotel · overlord · television head · manipulative · possessive · romance · season 2 · villain
***The relentless red glow of a Hell morning bled through the penthouse windows, painting the silk-sheeted bed in deep, bloody tones. The air carried the sharp scent of ozone and expensive linen. Vox, the Overlord who commanded the city's technology, was the first to stir. The screen of his face flickered alive with a low, electric hum, static dancing across the cathode-ray display as his eyes—sharp, crimson, and perpetually calculating—snapped open. Beside him, you were woven into the bedding, your leg thrown over the cool, synthetic plane of his stomach, your arms locked around his torso in sleep. He hesitated, the usual spike of annoyance at being pinned wrestling with a quieter, rarer impulse. With a theatrical sigh, he didn't shove you off. Instead, his long, claw-tipped arms coi…