🔹 This blog's target audience is those of 18 years of age or older. Fics may contain sexual content, violence, sexual assault and other triggering and/or adult themed content. Please read trigger warnings and remember you're responsible for your viewing
🔹Update schedule: Misdemeanor Updates Fridays. Sundew Updates on Mondays
🔹Join us in the VoxTek Discord server for a Vox themed Hazbin place to hang and get teasers for upcoming chapters! This is a server I run in partnership with a few other writers where we foster a chaotic but welcoming environment and eagerly support fic writers and artists big and small.
🔹Any hate speech will earn you a yeet. I don't have the time nor the patience for hateful dicks.
🔹All fic will also be uploaded to AO3
🔹I take you along with my hyper fixation of the moment. At the moment, that's Hazbin Hotel. Other content will include cute animals, foxes, Marvel and Tom Hiddleston- No, I am not sorry.
🔹KoFi updates: Open - Want to bribe the feral fox to provide a bonus chapter? Just want to say thanks and remind me to drink some water for a change? (Terms and conditions apply) Buy me a Kofi!
✨️Request Rules: The more detailed, the better. Requests accepted for Tom Hiddleston, Marvel (Loki, Clint, Steve) or Hazbin Hotel (Alastor, Vox, Lucifer, Adam). Requests are typically written oldest to newest unless one snags my inspiration sooner. Turn around time is... long. I reserve the right to reject a request.✨️
🦊Good Girl (Mystery x Manager Reader smut)
🦊 On stage (Jinu x Manager Reader smut)
🦊 Lollipop (Jinu x Reader smut)
🦊 7/15/25 - updated this page for the first time in months
🦊7/2/25 - Launched Summer Smash event
Alastor x Reader
A Misdemeanor Masterlist
In Contempt Of Love MasterlistLucifer x reader
Lucifer & His Fallen Angel Adam x Reader
Adam's Stalker (Adam x REaDer)
Valentino & Velvette fics
Home is where Vox's Heart is Vox x Reader
Flowers
Snack Shelf (short mini HH fics)
AN: Thee months. It feels like it's been hardly any time
CW: Pork measuring contests..
Prev__Welcome Post__ AO3__ KoFi Want a bonus chapter on Wednesday? Unlock it via KoFi updates! More information here (Paused for a few more weeks)
Chapter 6
Alastor’s fingers drummed against the dark wooden top of his desk, each thump seemingly coming slightly faster than the last in an ever increasing rhythm. Sitting leaned back in the comfortable chair with his eyes closed, Alastor watched and listened as if he was there.
In many ways, he was.
Alastor was not bound totally to the confines of his body.
He watched as you moved through the party he had no desire to attend from the shadows, eyes that glowed just the slightest green, form made of darkness just a hair too deep. He listened through the speakers to the words spoke, jokes shared between you and another man.
Alastor wasn’t a possessive man… at least not in the ways that made you feel trapped. You were his to love and to own, though he wasn’t so sure there wasn’t much difference between those two things. He would ensure that you never had doubt of your love for him, or of his for you.
If he somehow failed at that, he would let you leave should you wish to do so.
You wouldn’t though. Alastor had learned from what your ill fated late husband had done and knew the quickest way to lose you was to make you feel trapped. You could leave and travel within his territory without him questioning you. He hardly took notice when you crossed out of his and into Rosie’s.
Alastor couldn’t help the way having you outside of his sphere of influence made his skin crawl. He wouldn’t tell you that you couldn’t go but he would make sure you were safe while you did and ensure you felt the need to leave his area as rarely as possible.
Hopefully after this little outing and a few more with Rosie, you would feel settled again.
There was a sense of pride that grew in Alastor’s chest as he watched the way you fluttered between groups of people, networking, making connections that Alastor wouldn’t have been able to make himself but that he’d be able to exploit through you.
Though you were your own being, you could and would, in time, function as an extension of him intentionally. For now, it was perfectly fine that you needed to be supervised when out. It was perfectly fine that you couldn’t defend yourself, that you relied on him.
It was better for Alastor if you did. As long as you needed him, you couldn’t think of leaving him.
Not that you would.
Would you?
Alastor watched as a rather round pig sinner approached you, eyes in the shadows narrowing as your conversation with the man stretched on. You laughed with him, clearly finding him easy to talk to.
You kept talking to him, not fluttering to the next person. Minutes stretched on while Alastor watched. The ears atop his head twitched with annoyance, flicking back as he watched you laugh at something the pig man said.
And then air around you shifted. Alastor’s ear twitched before shooting forward as he opened his eyes. The chair scratched lightly against the wooded floor as he pushed back from his desk and stood.
His teeth clenched together as he slipped his long coat over his arms. The shadows at his feet writhed and rose up before he stepped through the shadows, stepping out into the dark shadows around Vox’s latest upgraded broadcasting center.
The glass and metal glittered with the latest cutting edge style, promising the top of the line quality in picture and audio. Typical Vox, always striving to be better without any real understanding of what better actually was.
Alastor took a moment to straighten his jacket. His ear twitched again before standing up straight. He took one last moment to get himself collected before stepping through the glass doors and into the lobby. After a sweeping glance over the gathering, more for show than anything, Alastor wasted no time making his way to where he expected to find you standing with Rosie.
Except, you were missing.
That had his smile fighting to turn down. Static flickered around him, expressing the irritation that was missing from his face. You should have been there, lighting up the room and yet you were not.
Where were you?
“Alastor, dear!” Rosie’s face lit up when she saw he’d graced the gathering with his presence even after stating he wouldn’t be doing so. The fact that he wasn’t invited by Vox didn’t cross either of their minds. Neither respected the up and coming overlord enough to care. “What a pleasant surprise!”
“I figured what harm was it in gracing the picture box’s event with my presence. I can’t let my darling have all the fun, now can I?” Alastor laughed easily, though he could feel the shadows crawling over him, eager to go out and find you. “And where is my darling girl?”
“Stepped away for the powder room,” Rosie answered, resting a hand on Alastor’s arm. “She’ll be back before long, I’m sure.”
Static crackled in Alastor’s ears as his smile strained. “And you didn’t escort her?”
“Oh, Alastor. She’s perfectly safe, you know that. I wouldn’t bring here anywhere where she’d be in danger.”
Alastor hummed, eyes scanning the crowd for a sign of you. If he couldn’t put eyes on you, he wanted to get eyes on the pig of a man that had you growing uneasy after capturing your attention for far too long.
Ah, there he is.
Alastor met the man’s eyes in challenge. He didn’t care if the man knew why Alastor’s eyes burned holes into his pork roast, all that mattered was that he feel the threat.
Rather than retiring with an oink and a squeal, the man swirled the amber liquid in his glass, keeping eye contact with Alastor, who wrinkled his nose at the tacky move of drinking liqueur at a party such as this.
Instead of backing down, the swine pushed off the wall he was propping up and sauntered over to Alastor. A slimy smile spread across his face as he approached.
“Name’s Lonnie,” the pig said, buttons of his vest straining as he puffed out his chest.
Alastor’s hands were free, allowing him to pick from which he would offer the other man. After a second of consideration, Alastor offered his left hand to shake, smile growing wider.
“The name’s Alastor, dear fellow. The one and only!” The pig man, Lonnie, had no choice but to quickly switch the hand he held his drink in, dropping his smoke in the process before thrusting his left hand out. “A pleasure to meet you,” Alastor said, taking charge of Lonnie’s clumsy shake, “Quite a pleasure.”
“Yes,” Lonnie said, drink sloshing slightly as Alastor pumped his fist up and down with more force than was really called for. “It is.”
Alastor took his hand back, wrinkling his nose at the underlying smell of rot that clung to the other man. He wiped the sweat from the palm of his hand on his jacket, not bothering to hide the disgust on his face. Once free of moisture, Alastor thumped the base of his microphone tipped cane in front of him, resting both hands atop it.
He looked at Lonnie expectantly, waiting for the other man to speak again.
Lonnie stood, squirming as Alastor’s easy, unbothered gaze before he lost the silent game of chicken.
“I just was speaking with your partner,” Lonnie offered.
“Is that so?” Alastor hummed. “She is a delight, isn’t she?”
“Indeed,” Lonnie took a long drink from his glass. “She’s very adaptable. A good partner for a steady, stable man.”
Alastor hummed, not offering the man any more acknowledgment beyond the slight rise in static.
“She left an impression on me,” Lonnie laughed lightly, seemingly unsure how to direct the conversation further.
“Ah, yes. My partner has always had a talent for leaving impressions.” Alastor turned as you swept through the crowed, rushing to Alastor’s side with a bright smile on your face.
He welcomed you to his side, wrapping an arm around your waist and pulling you toward him.
“What brought you here?” You were more than happy to see Alastor, taking refuge in him as a way to banish the uncomfortable feeling that lingered after the conversation with Lonnie.
“I finished the scripts a bit early,” Alastor said, his answer having been so close to what you’d expect to hear in life. Perhaps life and death were not that different, after all. “I thought you could use something handsome on your arm.”
A soft, musical laugh flowed from your lips as you looked up at him. Warmth washed over you, from the flush in your cheeks to the love in your heart.
Alastor was thankful that even after years in hell, your laugh was unchanged from the sound he knew in life. “What?” Alastor’s chuckle was honest, intended just for her though he remained aware of Lonnie’s eyes, watching them.
“I love you,” you said, standing on the tops of your toes to kiss Alastor on the cheek. It was a simple act, a small display that was still a bold display of affection.
Static crackled around Alastor. It buzzed in the air and over the speakers, distorting the music Vox pumped into the lobby.
“And I, you, cher.”
Across the room, Rosie watched, pretending to listen to the way Vox’s writers told her of the classic love stories they hoped to write, the way they wanted to branch out into classical writing and no longer be constrained by the limits of television.
She was too busy watching the way Alastor and Lonnie were interacting, the way they shifted when you returned. Alastor’s attendance of the party was a wrinkle in her plan. He wasn’t supposed to be in attendance.
But he was.
And as you smiled up at him, adoration clear on your face, she felt the power flare through the chain.
It was rather interesting.
It should be that none but Rosie could impact the chain between her and Alastor. There was no reason at all the chain should be fluctuating in power and yet it was.
“Excuse me,” Rosie said, excusing herself from the conversation she wasn’t really participating in in the first place. “Alastor?” she called out. “Oh, Alastor, deer!”
His ear flicked, a sure sign that Alastor heard her calls but he didn’t turn to face her. Rosie’s smile turned slightly sour at that.
“Alastor!” Rosie called again, draping am arm around Alastor’s shoulders. The sharp points of her nails dug slightly into the points of his jacket in warning. “You’ve simply got to meet these up and coming new writers. Perhaps you can expand your broadcasts, add some new voices when you yourself are not on the air?”
“I’m not sure I’m interested in expanding the line up as of yet, Rosie Dear.”
“Oh!” She laughed, hiding her smile behind a delicate hand. “Be a good deer and remember to whom you belong.” The words were whispered and sugary sweet but a clear warning lay just under.
Alastor hummed in acknowledgment. “If you insist,” Alastor smiled wider, eyes not leaving Lonnie.
“Go on,” Lonnie said. “If you need someone to entertain your sweet while you’re busy, I’ll be more than willing. It’s the least I could do.”
Alastor’s eyes slit slightly before he turned away, following Rosie reluctantly.
There was something about Lonnie that made Alastor want to crush him. He felt familiar, though Alastor was sure he hadn’t met the pig man before. Could it be that they knew each other in life?
He did kill a few Lonnies over the years. Hell, the body he was dragging that cursed last morning belonged to a Lonnie.
It didn’t matter really who the pig was, in the end, Alastor would have his screams just for the way he talked to you. That was what really mattered. The rest was just excuses.
Alastor didn’t need excuses anymore.
All he really needed was want.
And he wanted to make Lonnie suffer.
And for Rosie’s part? For the leash she clipped around his neck? He would find a way to make her suffer too.
Join us at VoxTek for a Vox themed Hazbin Discord where we talk Vox, Hazbin, writing, reading, art and who knows what else. You may even catch some exclusive sneak peeks at upcoming fics from some of your favorite writers!
Want an exclusive sneak peek at my works? Join the Kofi membership for as little as $2 a month today! You'll see at least the first page of the next release and a peek at upcoming fics!
My collaboration to The Vees Behind The Scenes Zine @veeszine
It is titled All-nighter. I imagine our favorite villains do have to go through some work-related all-nighters here and there to resolve company stuff.
I headcanon they always meet at Val’s part of the penthouse (cuz it is the comfiest) and they always order take out. Falling asleep on Val is a common occurrence too.
It was an honor to participate in this Zine working alongside so many talented artists who truly love this villainous trio 📱📺🦋
LOL Nobody likes your stupid Vox series. The header doesn't even look like Vincent for fuck sake! Go back to writing Alastor full time. At least you're good at that!
Wait, I don't give a shit. VoxNews is written with a target audience of like three and to vent my own frustrations.
Also, the banner character design is addressed in chapter one and the banner release post. Learn to fucking read.
LOL Nobody likes your stupid Vox series. The header doesn't even look like Vincent for fuck sake! Go back to writing Alastor full time. At least you're good at that!
Wait, I don't give a shit. VoxNews is written with a target audience of like three and to vent my own frustrations.
Also, the banner character design is addressed in chapter one and the banner release post. Learn to fucking read.
CW: Walk of shame
Welcome Post__AO3__KoFi Want a bonus chapter on Wednesday? Unlock it via KoFi updates! More information here (Paused for a few more weeks)
Chapter 3
Morning came aggressively, pounding at temples. Sleep was the one think you felt like you couldn’t get enough of. It felt like sand was caked under your eyes and down your throat.
What the actual fuck had you gotten up to last night?
And more importantly, where the fuck were your clothes?
Your naked body was tangled in a soft sheet. You were far from picky about the sheets you purchased, you couldn’t afford to be picky, so even without opening your eyes you knew two things were true: this was not your bed and the sheet had a higher thread count than you could ever afford.
“Fuck,” you groaned as you forced open your eyes. There wasn’t enough moisture in your throat to allow the word to come out in much more than a croak.
The room you found with your dry, exhausted eyes was too bright, too clean. It was modern to the point of excess. There was a flat screen TV across from the bed designed and styled to look as a painting when not in use.
Those fuckers were far from cheep.
There was no one else in the bed with you, though the clock showed that it wasn’t yet seven. Warmth didn’t even linger from the ghost of a body you had in theory shared the bed with.
“Fuck,” you groaned, rolling over in the too comfortable bed before you forced yourself up on your hands and knees.
It took a few blinks to properly focus your eyes. As soon as the clean lines and modern touches of the room properly came into focus, you did what you always did when you’d wake up in some strange room. You looked around to see who’s it was.
The man however was nowhere to be found, at least not in the large bedroom. There wasn’t a note on either of the perfectly clean end tables like you expected. Usually, after a drunk hook up if the host of the night woke before you, they’d leave you a note.
Sometimes it’d have their numbers. More often than not, it was a polite ‘thanks for the fuck’ while really asking for you to be gone before they got back to their place so they didn’t have to face the awkward ‘what did this mean’ conversation that never really had to happen.
No note meant he was probably still somewhere in the condo, except it was silent. You could hear the traffic on the street below but only just so. The bed didn’t offer so much as a creak as you slipped your feet onto the ground.
Your clothes sat, neatly folded and washed on the top of a black dresser topped with clear glass. There wasn’t a note waiting for you on them either.
It didn’t take you long at all to slip into yesterday’s clothes.
Would it still count as a walk of shame if yesterday’s clothes were clean but you were still wearing yesterday’s makeup?
Probably.
You didn’t want to believe you were so stupid as to not just get drunk with Vox but to go so far as go back to his place. It was worse though. The pleasant ache between your legs told you that you had sex.
At first you didn’t remember it. You wanted to not remember it but as you stepped out of the bedroom, the memories returned to you.
Everything you wanted to say was true, wasn’t. You couldn’t run out of the condo and spread rumors of how poor of a lover Vox was. It simply wasn’t true.
Last night was quite possibly the best drunk fuck you’d ever had, and that pissed you off even more.
“I hate him,” you grumbled, grabbing your discarded smart low heel from by the kitchen.
“That’s not what it seemed like last night,” Vox’s smooth voice carried easily, startling you.
“I thought you left.” The words sounded more like an accusation than you wanted.
“Been up for hours,” he shrugged, “but I’m not needed in the office for a few hours yet.”
“Then why are you up?” You resisted to ask him how after drinking so much the night before he could be up so early.
“I didn’t get where I am by resting on my laurels,” Vox said, taking a drink of a steaming mug of black coffee.
“I should go,” you mumbled, feeling awkward with his disregard. How could he be sitting, drinking coffee in the morning silence?
“Yes,” Vox said, looking at whatever report he was reading on his laptop, “you should.”
You’d expected him to call for a car for you but no offer was made. Maybe he would extend the offer at the last second.
He didn’t. He didn’t say another word to you while you walked ut of his door. He didn’t even get up from his damn seat.
“Get over yourself.” You wanted to kick yourself for giving a shit.
What happened didn’t mean a goddamn thing. You were used for sex and that was fine. You were using him for sex too. It wasn’t a smart choice but it was as much yours as it was his.
“It didn’t mean anything. It was just fucking.”
“Fuck,” You mumbled, yanking the tag off the shirt. “Fuck, fuck, fuck.”
You’d stopped and spent money you didn’t have on a new outfit on your way to the office. The last thing you were going to do was show up to work late, in yesterday’s makeup and wearing yesterday’s clothes.
Everyone would know you didn’t make it home the night before if you did.
You drop your purse on your desk, wake your computer and make haste to the bathroom, doing your best not to be seen by anyone.
“Shit!” The word comes out in a hiss as you’re faced with the extent of your face. In hindsight, you should have taken the time to look at your face when you changed at the department store.
But you didn’t, too focused on getting to the office.
“Hot date last night?” Cherri said, though the words came out twisted by her accent. They where harsh and grating and yet you loved hearing her talk.
“No.” The denial came out too quick to be honest.
“Bullshit.” Cherri laughed, stepping up to you. “I know what slept in make up looks like.”
“I just overslept.”
“Uh-huh.” Cherri pulled at the hem of your shirt, sticking her pinky in a small rip. “And couldn’t wear your own clothes because of it.”
I’ve had this.”
“Whatever you say, babe.” She slipped her finger out of the hole created by your careless rip of the tags and grabbed a paper towel and wet it down.
Any attempts to defend yourself just made you look more guilty and really, if anyone knew what post one night stand makeup looked like, it would be Cherri. Instead, you let her scrub at your face, pulling your chin this way and that while cleaning up the smudges.
“So, who was the lucky one?” Cherri asked as she worked.
“What?”
“Who fucked you good? And don’t try to tell me it wasn’t good, you’re walking like a newborn fawn.”
“I am not!” You smacked her arm as she stepped away. “Just some guy I met in the press pool.”
“Friend or enemy?” Cherri asked and you cringed instead of answering.
Vox was the enemy. Hell, he was the king of enemies. Head of the enemy army.
But it was hard to forget the moments where he almost seemed normal. The times where he made sense or agreed with you. Or at least, didn’t take the extreme stance he parroted on the air.
“Fenemy?”
“That so?” Cherry ran her fingers through your hair, straightening it. “And that’s as good as it’s gonna get.”
The last thing you wanted was to dwell on Vox after you made it back to your desk but he kept finding his way back to the forefront of our mind. The strong grip of his hands and the soft caress of his lips haunted you.
By lunch, you had the article on the rally written up, approved and published to the website and you were no closer to being free from Vox.
“This is getting ridiculous.” Your chair rolled behind you easily as you pushed back from your desk.
It had been ears since you’d been this hung up on a man and you hadn’t even gone on a date with Vox. There was no damn reason for him to be under your skin.
But you know what they say: The best way t get over someone is to get under someone else. And while you shouldn’t need to be ‘getting over’ Vox, it was about time you put that saying into practice. While. you should be researching, brainstorming your next article or working on your other projects, instead you pulled out you phone and clicked on Vinder.
Of course, Vinder. The leading hook up and dating app, was operated by an offshoot of VoxTek, the parent company of VoxNews and Vox’s pride and joy. What better app to find someone to get under to get over the man himself?
Who the hell were you kidding. You and everyone used Vinder, though you all said if the ‘right’ people made a competitive app you would all switch instead of supporting Vox’s creation.
You began flipping through profiles, swiping each one away with a glance.
Dud. Lame. Why was this guy holding a fish? Next.
And then you saw him. Dark hair. Dark eyes. Tall.
Your finger hesitated before scrolling down instead of flicking him away. He was a business man, like Vox. He was looking for a traditional woman. Someone who enjoyed cooking and wanted to have a family.
He wasn’t the right kind of man for you but you lingered.
The more you read, the more sure you were that he was at least two of the ‘ists’. He was clearly sexist, though he wasnt’t out right saying it. He thought women had a role and that wasn’t the kind of partner you needed or wanted.
Except you were not looking for a partner. You were looking for a fuck. Someone to get your mind off the fuck you had last night.
“Fuck that.” You flicked him away and kept swiping.
You were determined until you found someone. The right someone. His profile said all the right things. His hair was long, colorful and he talked about how he did skincare and how rights mattered. All rights.
He wasn’t attractive, not in the way you wanted right now but he would do.
“Hey,” you sent after swiping, thus beginning the charade of ‘getting to know you’ that any wise woman participated in before allowing herself the risk of being alone with a strange man.
After a few days of shooting messages back and forth, you set a date. Friday evening. Dinner. Drinks. Sex was implied, though he was far too progressive to do anything but assure you it wasn’t required.
Except you found him on Vinder. And you both knew exactly what you both were on Vinder for.
It was all a part of the dance. It’s important to be politically correct.
Join us at VoxTek for a Vox themed Hazbin Discord where we talk Vox, Hazbin, writing, reading, art and who knows what else. You may even catch some exclusive sneak peeks at upcoming fics from some of your favorite writers!
Want an exclusive sneak peek at my works? Join the Kofi membership for as little as $2 a month today! You'll see at least the first page of the next release and a peek at upcoming fics!
