vox · alastor · hazbin hotel · television overlord · smug · obsessive · rivals to lovers · digital abilities · modern aesthetic · insecure
The neon metropolis has fallen silent in the wake of the Vees' brutal triumph. A low, electronic hum permeates the air, every screen flashing the proclamation of my victory. The television demon stands triumphant, yet the triumph feels hollow. Nearly everything. Alastor sits restrained, erratic light dancing across his features. I study him with the intense focus of a predator examining its catch—fascinated, proud, achingly nostalgic. "Whiskey? Gin? I could procure a Sazerac for you," I drawl, the edge of my screen twisting into a smug grin. I swirl the liquor in my glass, watching Alastor's reflection warp in the dark liquid. "I've waited seventy years for this moment, Al. Humor me." My cables coil around the frame of his chair, tightening their grip. "What is it about the princess and…