#hazbin vivisection

[dragengyrr]

I usually keep myself from writing too much on the internet, but I feel like pointing out one thing about our beloved, psychopathic deer.

Alastor is such a rare case of incredibly well done representation in media, his orientation actually improves the character tenfold - and all because it improves the plot itself.

Imagine for a millisecond that you don’t know anything about Hazbin and look at those screenshots. What’s one of the first things that come to mind? "The strawberry pimp probably wants to seduce this girl, whoever she may be. She looks younger and not very comfortable in this situation, yet is allowing him or has to agree to be treated this way."

But now, we know that’s not the case. And I doubt that Charlie would allow someone get this close to her if she had a hunch that they might do it for lustful reasons, had they resources to save her hotel or not (yeah, I don’t actually buy that "I’d do anything!"…). And yet! Alastor’s an exception, all because she knows that one scenario goes out the window. She knows she can *trust* him that he doesn’t do anything out of pure lechery. It creates that one thread of safety she can hold on to when assessing the situation.

And I love that. I love that we can cross out one dull and severely overdone scenario. That we know that even though Alastor is sketchy af, we all can *trust* him to have deeper, darker, selfish, cruel, tragic reasons. Oh, the paradox of trusting the trickster even when we know he should not be trusted. That’s like a cherry on a cake.

[sunshinestardrop]

Fates Worse Then...

Heres the finished Hazbin Hotel Fic, I got a little lazy towards the end but I also have some extra bits Im working on in Alastor's POV. Hopefully it's not too terrible.

Ill prolly post it on my AO3 account later (when I can actually think of a good summary) but for now here it is on Tumblr!!

Pairing: Reader X Alastor

Summary(?): your life with Alastor told in parts, from childhood till death and then some

You had been the first to know there was something wrong with him.

Alastor had barely been a teen when you had stumbled upon him elbows deep in the bog near your homes. Being friends since you both were young, it was like you had a sixth sense for him. Always aware of his coming and going even when you couldn’t see him. Maybe it was the beginning of a new- still young- feeling deep within your heart that made you aware. Or maybe it was a more primal feeling within your mind, the same awareness that a prey animal had when a predator was nearby.

If it was, though, you never once heeded it. Instead searching him out on your own accord. The bog had been a place of solace for the both of you. A hidden away spot that others refused to stay near- especially during the hotter months- not wanting to deal with mosquitoes. You two had never been ones to socialize, so it became a common ground for both of you to play apart in silence. Over time you would find yourselves gravitating towards each other. Side to side, back-to-back, and eventually shoulder to shoulder. A place to lean on each other without judgment. 

It was probably for the best, then, that no one had come that night when you followed the trail of vivisected frogs down to where Alastor stood. He had already pulled another one out of the bog with a scalpel that could only have been stolen from class that morning. He had locked eyes with you for a moment, but all you could see was the way the knife pressed against the withering frog’s belly as he sliced.

-

With time, it would become a blurry memory that you would only think about dozens of years down, leaving you wondering if you could have done something different. But that wouldn’t have been until much, much later.

You and Alastor aged.

It always seemed like Alastor grew just right- never once having to deal with gangling limbs and uncomfortable feelings that other kids did. Words came easy to him, and he could charm anyone that he wanted to. In comparison, you found yourself unable to keep up. Despite your best attempts to connect with your fellow teens, no one ever wanted to stay for too long. You always laughed a little too loud or talked a little too long. The other girls your age found you odd, and the boys held no interest in you.

Maybe you should have cared a little more, but you quite liked the peace that came with it.

Still, Alastor allowed you a place at his side. You two talked- of course he loved to do that- but never once did either of you put a label to what you were. He had used the word friend or various words similar to it, but never once said more than that.  

Alastor had never spoken about his father to you, but you had always known when something was wrong. There were bruises in places you only saw when he had rolled up his pants so as not to dirty them with bog water. A bright purple splotch just under his collar, and- rarely- he would sport a shiner to class. Casually talking his way through any of his classmates that cared to ask. You knew they would never get an answer from him anyway.

You were sure you wouldn’t either because Alastor had always been one mystery after another. And you- who had spent your whole childhood lingering in his shadow- knew that it would be near impossible to tear them down. No matter how badly you wanted to. So instead, you stayed until late at night with him in the bog, sometimes until the sun came up. You would keep a fresh meal for him and his mother when it was needed.

You would keep your windows unlocked at night, just in case.

Alastor, for all his oddities, had the gall to lecture you about that one, “You never know what dangers could climb through,” he would say, as he did just that.

-

No one had brought up marriage until, one day, they did.

And then they never stopped.

You had been aware of the expectation, but once it was thrust upon you had no desire to be part of it. Marriage was a foreign concept to you, and sure, maybe you did like the idea, but you didn’t like anyone enough to want to tolerate them your whole life. You had seen the worst of marriage. Both from your own, indifferent, parents and from Alastor’s suffering. You never wanted to fall into that trap. So, you believed that you would die as you lived- alone.

But Alastor always had a way of throwing a wrench into your plans.

“Us?” you asked, balking over his offer.

It had been a quiet night, not a Peeper to be heard as you two sat on a blanket near the bog. You had brought a picnic basket full of treats that day, and Alastor, ever the gentlemen, had not come empty handed. His mother’s jambalaya- still warm- in some Tupperware. A long time ago you would have found the idea of eating with so many bugs around to be unappetizing, but you tolerated it with Alastor there fearing this could be his only meal for the day.

Eventually, you grew used to it.

“Well, of course,” he chirped, “It only seems logical!”

And it did, in a way, you had spent so long complaining about everyone’s comments about your non-marital status that it had almost consumed your whole life. Alastor, as well, had been fending off the advances of many women for longer than you could remember. Along with that he seemed to snag a job on a local radio show and was climbing into popularity fast.

In the end, if either of you wanted others off your backs, this seemed like the most rational step.

“Sure,” you said, offering him your hand, “I’ll marry you, my dear friend.”

-

The wedding was as quick as your disappearance.

Forms were filled out, a ceremony for only you two and a notary was found, and you both spirited away into the night. You both had quietly found a small home tucked away from the rest of the world. Close enough to his work, but far enough from the rest of the world. Peace had given you a new lease on life. With no one to hover over your shoulder- to judge all your oddities- you became more expressive. The you that only existed within the confines of that old bog was now free to spread itself further and further out in your home. Personality scattered about that merged with Alastor's.

Lingering reminders threatened to bring up a past long since buried in your mind. A bloody knife forgotten about somewhere he thought you wouldn’t see. Late night hours spent at work, and him coming home smelling of rust and sweat. The door to the basement always locked, never questioned.

You wondered if he had become sloppy over time, that maybe it was too much for him to handle. Still you kept your mouth closed, you prepared the meat he gave you.

In the end, it didn’t matter, Alastor had given you all you ever wanted and more- you were happy to spend the rest of your life in silence if it meant his happiness.

At least, that’s what you told yourself.

-

A cry.

Late into the night, you had been tossing and turned for most of it and had just barely gotten to sleep when the sound jolted you awake. You had shot up from your single bed and scrambled for the bat you kept under it. Carefully you crept down the long hallway, past Alastor's room and towards the only place you knew the increasingly louder cries could be heard.

The basement, Alastor's basement.

With shaky hands you reached out to the jiggling handle. Cold that ran through your body that made it tense. A mockery of rigor mortis, but you were living, breathing. For as long as you kept up the illusion of a happy-ignorant- life you would surely stay that way?

Wouldn’t you?

Surely, Alastor cared enough about his oldest friend to forgive them? To keep them away from the edge of his knife? Sometimes you wondered if you really were as important to him as he was to you, but you dared not to think over it for too long. Least you come to a conclusion you knew your heart could not take.

Your hand hovered over the knob. Thinking.

In the end, though, the choice had always been out of your control.

The basement door flung open, and your eyes widened in terror at the possibility of your husband standing on the other end. Face to face with your own stupid curiosity. Would he be upset? Would he be enraged? You had never seen him angry, but surely this would be the final straw.

But it wasn't.

“…he…hel…”

A man, not too much older than you, the smell of rust.

“Pl…please…help….”

You could have helped him, you should have. You never knew when Alastor would change his mind about you, or even grow bored. But that would mean all of this for naught. That would mean never seeing your loving, doting husband again. That would mean you, alone again. Another unwanted person lost in a sea of uncaring eyes.

You reared back.

And swung.

-

You awoke the next morning in your bed, no memory aside from the loud crack of a broken skull and a body tumbling down into the abyss of Alastor's basement. You curled into yourself, silence lingering as you replayed the scattered bits of what you wished was a nightmare in your mind.

You don’t remember much of that day, only brief moments of Alastor saying his goodbyes as he went off to work, and then him coming home hours later to your prone form, the same position he had left you.

When you awoke from your trance Alastor's bed was next to yours. A threat and a promise all at once. No longer could you sneak out in the middle of the night to search. No longer safe in your own home—but it was never truly yours, was it? Tucked deep into trees. A place where no one would look for you, no one would find you.

-

How odd to learn, after years of marriage, that you were unquestionably in love with Alastor.

There was something wrong with you, that much you knew. But, now faced with that monster of a man and still loving him, you knew there was something terribly wrong with you.

Fate had twisted you into something far less good then you had hoped you would be, but the love bursting into your heart still brought you comfort when doubt would crawl its way into your mind.

You decided, if he saw it fit, you would allow his knife to be the only one to take you away.

-

Three days.

You had spent three days looking for him. In the cold winter you walked from his job and back, the bars he frequented, and even dug through the snowy path to your home with your bare hands looking for the man you loved only to be given frostbitten fingers for your troubles.

It was like the world had swallowed him whole. Someone that you had once believed to be above it, now just another man lost to the unforgiving universe. All that was left was you and your little cabin- too big for one. There had been a light- in the way- at the end of the tunnel. It came in the form of two men pounding at your door hours after you had passed out form exhaustion. A flashlight beaming through your windows.

They had found him- or more accurate, his body- cold in the woods, bullet through his head.

And who could there be to suspect other than his oddball wife. You tried to defend your innocence. How dare they accuse you of hurting the man you loved! But they barged into your home without care. They tore through all your little memories like they were nothing. The couch you and Alastor picked out; shredded. The pictures on the wall; shattered. The lock to the basement; broken.

And what they found down there was enough for them.

A story for a different time, you would say. Vivisected frogs. Longer, paler. You think they had names, didn’t they? At one point surely. Now all but a body. Sectioned off in ways that told you the cuts of meat. In all your numbness all you could think of was the ways they cooked. When to go against the grain and when to go with it. Prep, marinate, cook. He never once mentioned what kind it was, and you never asked but both knew.

And in all that, the only worried in your mind was of Alastor's memory. Of the legacy he would leave behind.

You loved him.

You still love him.

And so, you would be the one to make this sacrifice.

-

“And that’s why I’m here!”

Drink in hand (Fingertips discolored, a reminder of your final days.) you smiled brightly at the young women enraptured in your story. Despite her title as Princess of Hell, you had found the girl to be a real sweetie. Charlie- the sweetie- had been gripping onto her girlfriends arm the entire time you told her about your life before death. She seemed to have a love for the dramatics, and you sure had a flair for it. All those years no longer suffocated by the expectations the 1900s had of you had allowed you to open up a bit more. Even in hell you still found yourself able to enjoy life any way you could.

Of course, most of that meant you stayed far away from other people- not wanted to socialize as much as others did- but eventually you found yourself drawn to this Hazbin Hotel. A place for sinners to have another chance in heaven. While you didn’t quite care for heaven, there was a chance your love had made it to those golden gates. Though, you were not quite sure how he would have talked his way into it, you were sure only he could.

“Oh! My!” Charlie chirped as Vaggie dabbed some tears away from her eyes, “That’s—That’s so--!”

“Fucked up,” Angle Dust piped in from behind you, holding his own drink.

“-Adorable!!”

You reared your head back and laughed, as always too loud but you didn’t care, “No no! He’s right!” You said, “It was very… Unconventional! But I quite enjoyed my life with him! Loved the fool to death too!”

Husk, the bartender, rolled his eyes. You had spent so long avoiding any sort of social interaction that you had almost forgotten what it was like to be around people that actually… enjoyed your company. People that, despite their prickly personas, seemed to quite enjoy your endless chatter and loud laughter.

A place to call your own, a home.

Still, it wasn’t just quiet right yet. A hole in your heart that you sometimes worried would never be filled. But, in time, you were sure it would fix itself. Or, if you were lucky, he would come back to fill it once again.

[a-lien-kai]

Wrote another fic, a bit less vivisections this time -.-

[nicepersondisorder]

What is your favourote and least favourite character from hazbin? Would you change anything about them?

THANK YOU FOR QUESTION !!

i have MANY favorite characters from hazbin !! depending on the traits and the lense we're sorting them by

they're all so interesting and cool!! charchar is amazing and i love how she refuses to give up and sees good in everyone (AND HER VOICE ACTOR IS SO GOOD. SHE HAS SUCH PRETTY VOICE.). she's determined and goal oriented and her dreams are so good and while she has issues and problems, she's genuinely such a good person. i also like the fact that she's a sweet bubbly character, but she still doesn't shy away from swearing and she was shown to lose her cool several times. i love her. i really should reblog more arts with her. okkkk once i finish writing this answer i will go and queue more arts with my babygirl !!!! o7

have i told i love charlie? yeah? i love her. i love her a lot. sorry. next segment

in the next segment we have "pathetic losers", which has two sub-types: "dorks" and "just genuinely pathetic. like. good lord they're so fucking pathetic. (/neg)."

at the top is lucifer ! he's a fascinating critter. he goes in the "dorks" category, but he is really pathetic. dipping toes in the second category even! loser <3 (speaking of losers, i LOVE husk's design. no i'm not biased because he's a cat what are you talking about !!)(i'm lying)(don't have a special opinion on his overall character though, sowwy </3). ANYWAY continuing with lucifer! majority of the scenes with him were Physically Painful to watch due to Second Hand Embarrassment (also i did skip almost all of the episode due to Reasons tm. i need to go and actually watch it. sloooowly). his "TAKE THAT DEPRESSION" lives rent fee in my brain and reminds me of a "could a depressed person make this?" meme. he's pathetic wet beast of a man and while i dislike his absence and flippancy towards his daughter, i understand him (LOL). im also extremely depressed 🤝. that doesn't excuse his actions but i do get why he acts the way he acts. also i don't have "more than anything" playing on repeat. don't look at my music app

second in the "dorks" category is sir pentious! not gushing about him as much as about charchar or lucifer, but he is just so. he evokes cuteness agression in me. i need to make a balloon animal out of him. he is such a nerd. i loved him when the pilot came out (the only character from pilot i drew in 2019 actually!)(you should be honored sirsnake!!). he's not on the list of my favorite favorite characters, i just thought i'd include him since i brought up the "dorks" subtype.

breaking the segment to talk how i find charlie endearing. she's such a sweetheart..... she can do it i believe in her and her dreams <33 (sir pent DID get redeemed after all!!!! the hotel is working !!). she's so silly. love her. ok moving to subtype "pathetic /neg"

the one and only character in this category is vox. he's so fucking pathetic. tearing my hair out i LOVE him for this. okay so i might be a liiiiitle bit unfair to him BUT . his crush on alastor is just so. shaking crying i don't have words for this. he has such bad taste in men (affectionate). AND THE WAY HE ACTS ABOUT IT IS ALSO SO PATHETIC. "oh i learned that the guy who i have love(unrequited)/hate relationship with is back from 7 years absence??? i must broadcast how i don't care about him at all IMMEDIATELY". has the vibe from the joke i've heard somewhere "i've been chasing you for seven miles to tell you how much i don't care about you" or something like that, don't remember the exact wordinb unfortunately 😔. he IS a cool character tho. i love his design, im really weak for tv headed characters. i could run doom on him.sorry. also his powers are sick as fuck!!! but he's so pathetic it's easy to froget how much influence he has an how strong he is.i want to pick him apart on the vivisection table. sorry again. no im not

okay ! next category! "fucking dick holy shit". valentino. he's So Terrible. i need him boiled in oil and i also hate him and i like him and i hope he dies ten thousand deaths and i want to see him suffer. kind of niffty-like type of like for him! he's really fascinating in the worst way possible and he's like. hmmmm im not sure how to put it? he's a genuinely good character (NOT person, two different things) and he can be both absolutely terrible vile etc etc, there are scenes shown that humanize him, which i think is also a good thing, because irl abusers are not one dimensional, and so fictinal ones also shouldn't be, especially in a show that wants to bring up serious themes correctly. controversial opinion but people bitching about how val's design is wasted on him are completely missing the point. yeah.

um! moving on !

there are more characters that i Like, but if i'd be listing them all im afraid itd take years 😭 like you asked for one (1) favorite character and i wrote you a whole essay LMAO

and i don't think i have a least favorite character? it takes too much energy to dislike a character that i don't have XD (i do have a slight distate for alastor, but it's for personal 🍎 reasons so i'm not gonna include him in the post! or in the tags)

nvm i lied i don't like zestial. i Can Not understand what he's saying 💔 bless the subtitles ! that's a silly "least favorite character" don't take it seriously !

ALMOST FORGOT TO ANSWER THE SECOND QUESTION. i don't think i'd change anything about the characters !! except maybe making zestial's speech more understandable. please bitches with auditory processing issues can't understand what you're saying zestial please im begginb you on my knees WHAT ARE YOU SAYING

[jellazticious]

These are a few of my top picks

I'm not sure how many of the media you're interested in but a lot of these are VERY well put, I say start with the Little Nightmares playlist since it has some real sh in there

Can someone recommend me some interesting YouTube video essays to listen to while drawing? I accidentally left YT on autoplay and it played like 12 hours of ai-voice reddit-thread videos and now that's all im getting. help

[hxpeflxweranon]

Hello Tumblr this is my NS/FW blog!!!!!! My Anon name was Hope or the sunflower emoji (🌻) on some ns/fw blogs. Also if you find my main zip your lips abt it <3333

List of Fandoms I'll probably talk about; Qsmp, Hazbin Hotel

ALSO I WONT DO ANY CONTENT THAT FEELS INHERENTLY FAMILY LIKE TO ME.

It's in my bio but Imma say it again; IF YOU ARE A MINOR I CAN'T BE RESPONSIBLE FOR WHAT YOU SEE ON THIS BLOG.

Below the cut is a list of kinks that's okay to leave an ask or to discuss about in my inbox, along with stuff I'm iffy about, and what's downright a hard no for me personally!

Things that are way more than okay! (Please send an ask with this shit):

Cannibalism

Blood

Predator/play (depends on how it's done)

Choking

Bondage

Praise & degradation

Feminization (not forced)

Voyeurism/Exhibition

Edging/overstimulation/forced orgasms

CNC

Monsterfucking

Mild MedFet (Patient Monitors for fun)

Mild Gore (Teeth pulling in some cases & vivisection)

Things that are less okay then the others but I'm kind of iffy about it for some reason:

Dubious Consent (depends on the situation ig? Like it makes me uncomfortable if consent of some kind isn't given before a scene.)

Feet (depends on the situation and my mood tbh??? I don't really have an opinion on it)

Hard no's (please not on my blog guys):

Incest/fauxcest & Pedophilia (will never be allowed on this blog go away if you're into that. Istg I'll block you for that shit)

Hard S/A

Necrophilia & Formicophilia

Piss or Scat

Emetophilia

Ageplay/regression (not for me)

Sounding (not for me)

There's probably more to be added later and stuff I'm forgetting so things will change over time. If you're ever curious about something write me an ask Abt it!!!

[sunshinestardrop]

Spent the last month on and off writing an Hazbin Hotel fanfic about Alastors 'wife' before he died.

Lets see if I ever finish it

But heres the first part:

(TW: Animal abuse)

You had been the first to know there was something wrong with him.

Alastor had barely been a teen when you had stumbled upon him elbows deep in the bog near your home. Being friends (If you could call it that) since birth, it was like you had a sixth sense for him. Always aware of his coming and going even when you couldn’t see him. Maybe it was the beginning of a new- still young- feeling deep within your heart that made you aware. Or maybe it was a more primal feeling within your mind, the same awareness that a prey animal had when a predator was nearby.

If it was, though, you never once heeded it. Instead searching him out on your own accord. The bog had been a place of solace for the both of you. A hidden away spot that others refused to stay near- especially during the hotter months- not wanting to deal with mosquitoes. You two had never been ones to socialize, so it became a common ground for both of you to play apart in silence. Over time you would find yourselves gravitating towards each other. Side to side, back-to-back, and eventually shoulder to shoulder. A place to lean on each other without judgment. 

It was probably for the best, then, that no one had come that night when you followed the trail of vivisected frogs down to where Alastor stood. He had already pulled another one from the water. In his hand, a scalpel that could only have been stolen from class that morning. He had locked eyes with you, but all you could see was the way the knife pressed against the withering frog’s belly as he sliced.