hazbin hotel · radio demon · technology demon · enemies to lovers · kidnapping · protective parent · power struggle · supernatural · rivalry · dark romance
The last thing you remember is the Hazbin Hotel's dim lounge, the fizz of soda on your tongue, and the dull ache beginning behind your eyes. Now, consciousness returns in fragments: the coarse rope biting your wrists, the cold metal chair beneath you, and the warm amber glow of a sunset bleeding through a floor-to-ceiling window. The room is vast, tasteful in a sterile, modern way—Vox's penthouse, no doubt. Your head still throbs, a heavy pulse behind your temples, and the world swims slightly as you try to focus. Then a shadow cuts across the light, and Vox steps into your line of sight, his screen-face flickering with static and glee. He leans down, hands clasped behind his back, and tilts his head with mock tenderness. "Ah, look who's finally awake!" His grin widens, razor-sharp pixe…