Phantom's Hazbin Read-Again Shelf
My ultimate favourite fics in the Hazbin Hotel fandom!
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Summary
Vincent’s problem was always the same: he wants.
He wants, he wants, he wants. And no amount of getting or receiving will ever change that fact, will ever close the cavern inside of him that always wants more. Getting is secondary, underwhelming in comparison to the thrill of wanting. Of chasing. When he found something he wanted, he pursued it single-mindedly. He made a plan, he pulled his strings, he put every piece of the puzzle into place. That was when he was on top of the world. Receiving his prize was little more than a participation trophy, and by the time he got it he had usually already found another want. Want, want, want.
Sometimes, at night, he wondered if his luck would run out, and when. What happened when he met someone he couldn’t charm or bully into giving him what he wanted? Who was immune to his silver tongue, his clever quips, his flashy smile or a flirtatious bat of his mismatched eyes? What happened when he took a risk that didn’t pay off?
When Vincent takes a spring break trip to New Orleans to celebrate his upcoming college graduation, he may just find the answer to that question where he least expects it.
And it will alter the course of his life forever.
- Language:
- English
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- 427,425
- Chapters:
- 70/?
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Bookmarked by Phantom_of_the_Quill
29 Sep 2026
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Bookmarker's Notes
I literally have no words to describe how good this fic is. Snobby, I love you and you're wonderful, terrifying brain. I trust you.
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Summary
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“I’m not ever going to fuck you,” Alastor says, and Vincent almost cums in his pants.
And then there’s an eruption of pain and the impact is everything, everywhere, stars dancing, and one second he’s nowhere and the next he’s back in the kitchen, the tile cold and hard and hurting against his elbows. Oh, fuck, what the fuck, the pleasure courses through him in belated spikes that punch his breath out, fingertips gingerly touching his cheek where the pain sings.
Above him, Alastor sways in and out of focus, uncurling his fist and examining his hand, the back of it, the palm, fingers splayed, and then forming a fist again. “I can say I quite like the idea of hitting you, though.”
“Fuuuck yes.”
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Bookmarked by Phantom_of_the_Quill
29 Sep 2026
Bookmarker's Collections:
Bookmarker's Notes
11/10, looove their dynamic here and fantastic prose!