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toony-fanfics · 14 days

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I'll Be Seeing You

~🌹~

》Chapter One《

Words: 3,048

Warnings: alastor x oc (not until later chapters), violence, murder, cannibalism, swearing, knives, normal hazbin stuff

Summary: a story about how Atlas got to hell and met Alastor.

A/N: hiii! Just thought I'd man up and finally put chapter one here! I worked super hard on it! I'm not sure how many chapters there will be, but we vibe!

~🌹~

It’s funny, the way dying makes you think back on your life. On choices you made. On words that have been said. But the cards have been dealt, and now you think about it. Some go peacefully. In their sleep, perhaps dreaming of sweet things and loved ones. Others go painfully. With health problems or a stab to the back. Peacefully or painfully. Slowly or quickly. Expected or unexpected. Death has many ways of making itself known.

As for Atlas, he had a while to think about his actions. In a few hours, he’d be dead. In a few hours, he’d be frozen. Unmoving.

Growing up in the suburbs in Tennessee, Atlas was a very polite boy, who adored his family. For as long as he could remember, his father would take him and his brother out to hunt or fish, and his mother would often let Atlas sit in the kitchen while she cooked and baked, letting him be the first to taste things or lick the whisk. At an early age, the young boy had developed a love for cooking. His whole family loved the activity, and they were best known in their neighborhood for making meals to share with everyone. In the summertime, they’d have barbeques; in the winter, they’d go around to other houses with homecooked meals that they all worked together to help make.

Sitting at the table one night, at the age of 16, Atlas poked at the meatloaf on his plate in front of him. This had concerned his mother for many reasons. Atlas adored meatloaf, more than anyone in their family. Atlas loved food in general, and to see him not eating worried the brown-haired woman.

“Atlas, darlin’ you alright? Ain’t ever seen ya poke at meatloaf before.” She spoke up, her voice sweet and smooth with that southern twang she and the rest of Atlas’ family were known for. Atlas glanced up, before nodding, smiling at his mother.

“Yeah! Jus’...I, uh- I’ve jus’ been thinkin’.”

“‘bout what?” His father spoke up, looking at his son.

“Well…I mean, I was jus’ thinkin’ ‘bout gettin’ a job. Make some money, save it up…open my own restaurant up?” Atlas said that last part quietly, not knowing what to expect for a reaction. After all, cooking wasn’t exactly a skill Atlas shared openly with people. He’d done it a few times before, and it ended with laughter and ridicule. And though his family had been nothing but supportive and kind towards Atlas, the young teenager still didn’t know what to expect.

Silence fell over the table before his father cleared his throat.

“Well…it’d be a lotta work-”

“-I know! Pa, I know-”

“Listen, boy, I ain’t finished!” His father spoke, voice booming. Not in an angry way, though. He wore an amused expression. His son tended to overthink and jump to conclusions, which is why he wasn’t mad. A chuckle escaped his lips before he continued. “Like I said. ‘s gonna take a lotta work. Work, time, dedication, jus’ like most everythin’ in the world. But I also know yer tough. ‘n stubborn as hell, too. Y’get the from me, after all. If anyone in this family could do it, it’d be you.”

The words from his father made Atlas smile. Why he’d expected anything but encouragement, he didn’t know. Regardless, he’d made it a point to apply for not one, but two jobs.

Atlas spent the next few years working his hardest at both jobs. He often came home late, exhausted from sweeping floors at the market or washing dishes at the cafe. Yet he managed to keep up with his school work and his family. Finally, at the ripe age of 19, Atlas had saved up enough money to buy the building he’d wanted to use for his restaurant.

Standing outside the rundown building, Atlas and his mother gazed at it. It was about the height of a three-story building, though it only had one floor. Inside was what many would describe as a shithole. Sure, it needed a new…well, everything, but Atlas could manage. With the help of his family, he turned that rundown building into the Sunnyside Diner. Despite the name, the young man would be known for his meatloaf, though his breakfast meals were always a hit.

Standing outside the new diner the day before opening, Atlas bit his thumb anxiously, a habit he’s always had.

“...’s it- ‘s it worth it? ‘m I doin’ a good thing?” He spoke softly, staring up at the sign on the top of the building. Atlas’ mother gazed softly at her son, gently removing his thumb from his mouth.

“Oh, Tater, how often do I gotta say no bitin’? That thumb of yours is for makin’ food, not bein’ food. Now, I want ya to look at me, ‘n I want ya to listen.” His mother grabs Atlas by the shoulders and turns him to look at her.

“You, Atlas, are the most creative, smart ‘n talented young man anyone would ever have the pleasure of knowin’. This is big, dear. This whole restaurant is here because you wanna share the very thing you love with everyone. This is here ‘cuz y’thought of somethin’ ‘n y’stuck with it. Y’worked hard for this, ‘hon. Y’deserve this.”

Feeling his mother’s hand go up to his cheek, Atlas softened. Her words swaddled him in a warm embrace, and his heart swelled at the encouragement.

“Thank you, ma. Meals for ya are on the house.” He joked, letting out a small chuckle. His mother laughed that bubbly laugh she was known for, patting his cheek gently.

Business had been booming. Things were going amazingly. Atlas would constantly get compliments and get new patrons every day because of the word being spread around. He was at an all-time high. This was the best thing that ever happened to him, and he didn’t think he could ever come down. Money was rolling in, meals were rolling out, people were laughing and talking, and his restaurant was packed most days. It was a lovely sight for the man.

All good things come to an end, though. And this good thing came to an end three years after Sunnyside opened. Atlas had noticed a decline in business as of late. While bringing out meals to people, he heard others complaining.

Scrutinizing his food.

“It’s gotten a bit bland.”

“His meatloaf don’t even taste like meatloaf!”

“Why’s it always the same thing on the menu?”

“It starts to taste kinda bad after a while.”

After hearing all the complaints, the man couldn’t help but feel enraged. Why on earth would they say such things? About his food, no less? And the recipes…those were family recipes. Recipes he learned his whole life. Recipes he mastered. Recipes he bonded with his family over.

New. New, new, new. Atlas felt sick as the word tumbled around his head the whole day. New.

How could they insult his family in such a manner?

That night, Atlas snapped. The man went on a killing spree. Enraged by the insults, enraged by the awful comments, he saw red. Both figuratively and literally. Each body was placed in a wheelbarrow after being murdered, and before long, the wheelbarrow had gotten full. With blood splattered all over, the man made his way back to his diner.

At first, coming up with a way to dispose of the body had been hard. There were many ways, some more effective, and as Atlas stood in the alley by his restaurant, it hit him. It hit him like a ton of bricks.

They said they wanted new meals. New ingredients? New recipes?

Well, they’d get them.

Atlas was up all night, grinding human meat and storing it in the freezer. Once Atlas had disposed of the bodies the way he knew how the man left the building as if nothing had happened.

The next day, Atlas announced new burgers made from only the best meat. The thought of something new brought many to his establishment once more. People enjoyed the burgers. People enjoyed the meals Atlas would prepare. They loved it and had no suspicion.

Amazing, the way the brain worked. It often puzzled Atlas, but in times like this, he was thankful for the obliviousness.

Doing this for a few years, one is bound to get caught. While staying late, an employee of Atlas’ heard noises coming from the kitchen. When going back there, he was met with a gruesome sight.

His boss, all bloody and sweaty, with a wheelbarrow full of dead bodies. Was this why the man had been more reserved? More hesitant to let others into the kitchen? More temperamental?

A soft gasp escaped the employee as he took a step back. Atlas, without looking up, chuckled to himself. Slowly, he reached for a chef’s knife and stood up.

“Well, ain’t this a pickle. ‘n here I thought no one else was here.” He tosses the knife up, watching as it flips a few times in the air before he catches it by the handle. Slowly walking to the kitchen door, the man locks it. “Guess‘s my own fault. Shoulda checked fully. Don’t matter, though. Ain’t gonna matter.” He chuckles again before running his finger up and down the blade of the knife, circling the trembling employee.

“Wh…what- what are you…?” He started, his eyes wide as he stared at his boss. The man who’d once been well-liked and so polite to others just years ago had now snapped. Atlas wasn’t Atlas anymore. This was a different man.

“I’d hush up if I were you. Don’t wanna make it any harder than need be, hm?~ Now then. We got ourselves a bit of a problem, Joan. See, yer seein’ somethin’ ya ain’t ‘sposed to. That ain’t gonna fly with me. I like keepin’ stuff private, see? Now, I could let ya go, make ya promise to keep yer fat fuckin’ lips shut.”

Atlas pauses, still circling Joan, the employee.

“...nah, that’d be too easy. ‘n who’s to say ya won’t jus’ promise to save yer own skin? For all I know, y’could be plannin’ on gettin’ the law involved right now. ‘n that ain’t good for either of us. Way I see it, the only option I have is jus’ killin’ ya right now."

The words sounded almost nonchalant. Casual. As if it were a topic in everyday conversation. Fear overtook Joan’s entire being as he glanced towards the door of the walk-in freezer. His breathing was uneven as he slowly backed away from Atlas, towards the freezer. With each step Joan took back, Atlas took one forward.

“Y’know, kid, ‘s a real shame. Y’were one of my best employees. I liked ya a lot, Joan.” Atlas raised the knife. “If it makes ya feel better, I’ll be sure to put ya in one of my best dishes. Yer death ain’t gonna be all in vain.” A twisted smile appeared on his face as he brought the knife down.

Joan yelled out and moved a bit to the left, causing the knife to go into his shoulder. A pained scream emitted from the employee as tears sprung to his eyes. Whimpering, he watched as the blood pooled out and bled through his shirt. The knife was stuck, jammed in deep. Joan groaned out loud as he stared up at the man he’d once called his boss, before moving a hand discreetly to the handle of the door leading into the freezer.

Atlas growled and grabbed another knife, this one a cleaver. Glancing at the employee, leaning against the door, Atlas raised the new knife, preparing to bring it down again. However, what happened next shocked Atlas.

In one swift motion, the freezer door swung open, and cold air suddenly flowed out into the room. His arm was grabbed by Joan, and Atlas was shoved inside. Stumbling back, he slammed into a few boxes of various frozen ingredients, before falling on his rear. Jostled around by the sudden collision, one of the boxes at the top of the stack fell and landed on his ankle. A scream emitted from the chef, as the heavy box had broken the bone, leaving him immobilized. Stuck.

“Son of a bitch, LEMME OUT. NOW.” Atlas screamed, throwing various things at the door. Each thing he threw landed too far away for him to pick up and throw again, and before he knew it, Atlas had nothing. He couldn’t do anything. He was defenseless, immobilized, and locked inside of this tiny box. It was cold. Cold and cramped. He hated it.

The minutes seemed like hours. All was silent. Too silent. It was almost deafening for the young man.

Atlas never knew how much time had passed. His whole body hurt. He was shivering, his lips most likely blue by now. He knew he was stuck here. There was no escaping it, so all he could do was sit there. Sit in the darkness and wait. Wait for the sweet release of death. Something inevitable by now. He knew he was going to die.

Yet he smiled. He smiled and laughed. Atlas laughed the hardest he had laughed in a while, tangling his fingers in his hair. Though he was smiling, tears were falling. This was not happy laughter. This was not a happy smile. This was the sight of a man hitting the last straw. Of a man breaking.

Though he wasn’t dead yet, the man was gone. Far gone.

Too far gone to think rationally. Too far gone to feel anything properly.

As his laughter dies down, the man rests his head against the wall. It was cold. The whole freezer was. He didn’t care. He couldn’t care. The cold of the freezer was the last thing on his mind while he was on the brink of death. The pain of his ankle wasn’t on his mind either. He didn’t know what he was thinking of. He was just thinking. Thoughts swarmed around in his head, though none of them could be picked out. None of them could be separated from the others. They were loud, yet silent. Clear and fuzzy all at once.

The man shifts his position and lets out a shaky sigh. Upon doing so, he saw someone. A figure. A woman. Plump and short, hair a mix of grays and brown, eyes a dull yet beautiful shade of blue. Despite the darkness of the freezer, he could make this woman out very clearly. Too clearly. Was she here? How did she get in? She didn’t have a key to the restaurant. Was she here to save him? Was this a hallucination?

“Atlas.”

Atlas stared at the woman, softening a bit. He teared up because he knew this woman. This was his mother. This was the last time he’d see his mother. This was a hallucination. He was dying.

“Mama…” He spoke softly, his voice shaking. He felt like a kid. A scared kid. A kid who wanted more than anything to simply be held by the very woman who raised, clothed, fed, encouraged, supported, and comforted him all his life.

But he couldn’t get up.

And she wouldn’t move.

Atlas could make out the features on her face. She wasn’t happy to see him. She didn’t care about his situation. She wasn’t here to save him. The woman he admired all his life wore a face of pure disgust as she looked down at him as if he’d been something repulsive stuck to the bottom of her shoe. As if he’d been something one would find in the garbage.

“Why…? Atlas… what did you do?” The woman asked, not once moving from her spot. Not once bothering to look around. Not once bothering to unlock that door.

She looked so warm.

And he was so cold.

“What was right,” Atlas spoke through gritted teeth. Despite everything. Despite what he had gone through, he still didn’t feel remorse. “I don’t regret none of it, either. It was for family. I did it for you, Mama. For you.”

The woman glared at Atlas through her beautiful blue eyes. She never glared at anyone. Her heart was much too big and kind for it. Seeing his mother glare down at him like he was nothing but a burden her whole life made Atlas feel a few emotions he didn’t want to feel.

“You did not do it for me. You did it for yourself. You’re a selfish, evil man. This was not who I raised you to be.”

“Ma-”

“Don’t. You do not get to call me mama. You do not get to apologize. I can’t believe I ever called you my son. I can’t believe I ever cared for someone as sick and twisted as you. I can’t believe I let you open this restaurant. You are broken beyond fixing. You lost the privilege of calling me mama. I refuse to call you my son.” She pauses, then stares directly into Atlas’ eyes.

“You are nothing to me.”

Her voice, as cold and harsh as the temperature of the freezer itself, cut through Atlas’ heart like a knife. His breathing hitched as he rested his head on the wall of the tiny freezer. Everything was quiet. The woman that had talked down to him had disappeared, leaving Atlas alone.

It was almost time. He knew it was. And he couldn’t do anything about it. He never said goodbye, never hugged his mother one last time, never saw his brother, never visited his father. As he rested his head against the wall, memories floated through his mind like, distant yet still there, like a forgotten tune. Fuzzy memories of him and his mother baking cookies for the family every Christmas, or him and his father working on his car for the first time.

His body felt weightless as the cold suddenly stopped. He wasn’t scared anymore. He was at peace. He was gone, and he was done suffering. Everything would be okay. He was done with the pain. He closed his eyes and let himself feel the sweet release of death.

Then, a strange feeling in his stomach was noticed. A jolt. A sudden movement.

He was falling.

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel fanfic #hazbin hotel oc #fanfic #fanfiction #my fic

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toony-fanfics · 18 days

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my requests are open for the first time!! to celebrate, im gonna do these :)

Physical Affection Prompts

hi all! I just thought I'd make my own list of various physical affection prompts and since no idea is ever original some of these are 100% on other peoples lists but im not using other lists as reference or copying anyone. this list is for my own use and other peoples use and there's no need to credit me (though it's always nice).

reblog to have your followers send you these as prompts !! or just use them for your own writing.

all of these are meant as sfw prompts but some may seem a bit more intimate.

tracing someones face

tucking hair behind their ear

forehead kisses

desperate hugs

crying into their neck/shoulder

reversed little spoon & big spoon (the one who is normally the big spoon is the little spoon and vice versa)

holding their hand under a table

kissing their hand

kissing their collarbone

sitting with legs in their lap

morning cuddles where they're both mostly asleep and they don't want to wake up yet but they want to cuddle

petting their hair

head pats

sitting on the floor in front of them while they sit on the couch and their arms touch their legs.

holding both of their hands

hugs from behind

gently touching their waist to move past them (dont do this to someone you're not dating! dont believe I have to say this.)

grabbing their wrist or hand and turning them around

playing with their hands when nervous

slow dancing

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toony-fanfics · 2 months

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SOBBING OH MY GOODNESS, YAKKO 😭 THIS IS SO SWEET TYSM

Goodmorning, Dear! 🧇

~🌹~

Oneshot

Pairing: Alastor x Atlas (OC)

Word count: 881

Summary: just atlas waking up to breakfast for once!

Warnings: none!

~🌹~

The streets of Hell were never really known for being “relaxing” or “calm”. There were almost always screams, fights, music, anything you could think of. Hell never got less overwhelming, one just got used to everything after a while. You’re stuck there for all of eternity, after all. It’s something you have to get used to. However, there were places and times where it was bearable. Specifically, early morning at the Hazbin Hotel.

Usually Atlas had been the one to wake up first. After all, he was the hotel’s chef. Guests depended on him to provide sustenance. Granted, there weren’t many guests, but the staff also needed food in them to go about their day. Plus, the more time Atlas got to spend in the kitchen, the better. It was a safe place for him, one he didn’t share with many.

Except one, of course.

Though, this morning, Atlas woke up to the sound of Heartaches by Al Bowlly echoing throughout the hotel. Someone else was up, and by the music, Atlas could guess pretty well that the one awake was none other than Alastor. After all, Atlas didn’t know anyone else who listened to old music like this.

Sitting up in his bed, Atlas rubbed the sleep out of his eyes before stretching. Glancing over to the mirror that hung up on the wall, the blue goat got out of his bed and walked towards the closet. Tilting his head slightly, he picked out a white long-sleeved button-up, along with a pair of blue jeans and suspenders. A bit out of the ordinary, since he usually wore his blue sweatervest, but he’d subconsciously wanted to look at least decent for Alastor. Another Al Bowlly song starts playing, and it wasn’t long before Atlas started humming along with it. Taking a hairbrush, the goat began fixing his hair a bit, not particularly enjoying the bed-head look.

The goat takes a step back and observes himself in the mirror. With a smile, he sticks his thumbs under his suspenders and rocks back and forth for a moment, nodding before grabbing a dark blue tie. Draping it over his neck, he got distracted by the multitude of shoes he had. With a hum, he finally slips on his black oxford shoes, and steps out of his room with a stretch. The music gets noticeably louder as Atlas heads down the hall.

Atlas also picked up a smell from the kitchen. It was food, that much he knew. None he’s ever made or tasted before, though, since the smell was unrecognizable. Stepping into the kitchen with a head tilt, the blue demon spots Alastor at the stove, an apron tied around his waist. Another Al Bowlly song begins to play, and Alastor hums along, the soft, melodic tone of his voice wrapping its way around Atlas like a warm hug on a cold autumn day. With a smile, the demon made his way over and hugged Alastor from behind. The radio demon tensed up momentarily, softening milliseconds after realizing who the culprit was.

“And a very good morning to you as well, my dear. I trust that you slept alright?” Alastor asks, glancing down at Atlas. The goat shrugs, leaning into the taller demon.

“I slept in. ‘m sorry, I didn’t mean to.”

“Nonsense, cher! No trouble at all, I assure you. You needed the rest. After all, a fine chef such as yourself needs to be at his best!” Alastor reassured.

Atlas smiles a bit before his eyes flicked down to the skillet on the stove. He’d recognized pecans in there, though wasn’t sure why. “Whatcha makin’?” He asked. Alastor’s grin seems to grow in excitement, as if he’d been waiting for Atlas to ask him that.

“Why, I’m making something my mother used to make me for breakfast when I was a boy! Sweet potato-pecan waffles. They’re absolutely delightful, my dear. You’ll love them!” He spoke, swaying along with the next song that played. Atlas chuckled a little bit.

“Don’t think I’ve ever heard of those. Maybe I should try makin’ ‘em at some point.” The smaller demon mumbled, his mind drifting off. What other foods did Alastor like? Maybe if he figured out a way to subtly ask, he could make them for the taller demon, or-

Atlas was snapped out of his thoughts when Alastor began tying the untied tie around his neck. A small laugh escaped the blue demon as he realized he’d completely forgotten to tie it.

“My dear, I have to say… I find this little fad you’re trying to start quite humorous!” The radio demon spoke, laughing as he finished the job, patting Atlas’ chest. “Tell me, mon cher, what’s the occasion? You’re dressed quite differently this morning.”

“No occasion. Jus’ wanted to switch it up a lil’ bit. Y’like it?” The goat asks, sticking his thumbs through his suspenders just as he’d done in his room. Alastor tilts his head while staring down at Atlas, a look of adoration forming in his eyes.

“It’s wonderful, darling. Quite becoming on you, I must say! Now! How about some waffles?”

Atlas smiles and nods, and with that, the two sit down at the counter, waffles in front of them as they spent the morning talking and laughing.

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toony-fanfics · 2 months

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Goodmorning, Dear! 🧇

~🌹~

Oneshot

Pairing: Alastor x Atlas (OC)

Word count: 881

Summary: just atlas waking up to breakfast for once!

Warnings: none!

~🌹~

Except one, of course.

“And a very good morning to you as well, my dear. I trust that you slept alright?” Alastor asks, glancing down at Atlas. The goat shrugs, leaning into the taller demon.

“I slept in. ‘m sorry, I didn’t mean to.”

“Nonsense, cher! No trouble at all, I assure you. You needed the rest. After all, a fine chef such as yourself needs to be at his best!” Alastor reassured.

Atlas was snapped out of his thoughts when Alastor began tying the untied tie around his neck. A small laugh escaped the blue demon as he realized he’d completely forgotten to tie it.

“It’s wonderful, darling. Quite becoming on you, I must say! Now! How about some waffles?”

Atlas smiles and nods, and with that, the two sit down at the counter, waffles in front of them as they spent the morning talking and laughing.

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel oc #fanfic #alastor

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toony-fanfics · 2 months

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Teehee I've got an idea for an atlas and alastor oneshot

And then a fanfic relating to hazbin

My question is, is there a specific one anyone wants to see first?

#toony talks #fanfic #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel oc

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toony-fanfics · 3 months

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Hmmm how do we feel about another HH fic with my baby Sylvia?

#not a fic #hazbin hotel oc #hazbin hotel

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toony-fanfics · 4 months

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𝙲𝚊𝚛𝚎𝚕𝚎𝚜𝚜 🌹

~🌹~

𝙾𝚗𝚎𝚜𝚑𝚘𝚝

𝙿𝚊𝚒𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚐: 𝙰𝚕𝚊𝚜𝚝𝚘𝚛 𝚡 𝙰𝚝𝚕𝚊𝚜 (𝚑𝚊𝚣𝚋𝚒𝚗 𝚘𝚌)

𝚠𝚘𝚛𝚍 𝚌𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚝: 𝟾𝟹𝟾 𝚠𝚘𝚛𝚍𝚜

𝚆𝚊𝚛𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜: 𝚗𝚘𝚗𝚎 :)

𝚜𝚞𝚖𝚖𝚊𝚛𝚢: 𝚊𝚕𝚊𝚜𝚝𝚘𝚛 𝚏𝚒𝚗𝚍𝚜 𝚘𝚞𝚝 𝙰𝚝𝚕𝚊𝚜 𝚌𝚊𝚗'𝚝 𝚍𝚊𝚗𝚌𝚎! 𝚗𝚘𝚠 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚓𝚞𝚜𝚝 𝚠𝚘𝚗'𝚝 𝚍𝚘!

𝚊/𝚗: hiii this is my first time writing for alastor so I apologize if I botched it up sgudgigid- do enjoy!

~🌹~

“Ah! I thought I might find you here!”

Sitting at the bar with a bottle of whiskey, Atlas’ ear twitched at the familiar static-y voice. Almost instinctively, the blue demon whipped his head around, seeing Alastor standing there with his familiar permanent smile. The radio demon let out a chuckle at Atlas’ response, or lack thereof. Sitting in the stool next to him, Alastor tilts his head.

“Don’t mind the intrusion, my dear! I know how you like your privacy sometimes. I’ve just come for a quick drink myself!” The overlord said, snapping his fingers. Atlas watched as some form of a cocktail poofed onto the bar in front of Alastor. A blush creeped onto his face as he turned back to his own drink after a moment or two.

“What is it?” He’d asked. The radio demon next to him seemed to be intrigued by Atlas’ question.

“Why, it’s what I call an ‘Old Fashioned’! Quite the drink, I must say!” Alastor replies proudly before noticing the silence. That wouldn’t do at all!

“You don’t mind if I put on some music, do you?” Alastor asked suddenly, and before the blue demon could answer, the taller overlord had snapped his fingers once more, causing a small radio to appear and play. “Ahh, that’s better! It was certainly quite dull in here without any music!” Radio static emitted from Alastor soon after he put the song on when he heard Atlas speak up.

“Careless.”

“Hm?”

“The song. ‘s Careless.” Atlas clarified, his eyes darting over to Alastor with a small smile before once again averting eye contact. “I’d get up ‘n dance to it if I could, but I can’t. ‘n I don’t got a dance partner.”

Alastor listened intently as he looked down at the shorter demon. With a nod, he promptly stood up.

“Well, this just won’t do, my dear! We can’t have a charming fellow such as yourself go on without a dance partner!” He spoke enthusiastically before suddenly grabbing Atlas’ hand and pulling him up onto his feet. Startled, Atlas tensed a moment. Usually, Atlas would have pulled away. This isn’t the first time he’s been made to stand up and dance. However…this was Alastor. His partner in the romantic sense. He would never be able to pull himself away from the radio demon.

Though, this didn’t stop his whole body from tensing up. Alastor hadn’t missed this, either. He’d noticed as soon as it happened.

“Relax, my dear! You’ve nothing to worry about, I assure you. You’re special!”

“I am?”

“You’re the only demon who could step on my feet and not die immediately!” A laugh track emits from Alastor as he laughs along with it. The lighthearted tone of the comment made Atlas soften slightly as he nods, letting out a little huff of a chuckle.

Taking this as a sign to continue, Alastor hummed along with the tune as he guided Atlas’ hand to wrap around him. Then, he wrapped his own hand around the blue demon’s waist. Holding their intertwined hands in the air, the radio demon looked down at Atlas.

“You’ve already got the hang of the position, my dear! All you need to do is learn the steps!”

“I dunno, Al, this- well…I dunno if I can do this-”

“Nonsense! You can do it! Just follow my lead, lose yourself in the music, and you’ll do splendid!”

Atlas hesitates before nodding slowly. Alastor began slowly leading him through the steps of this little dance, and didn’t wince once when Atlas had stepped on his feet. It wasn’t surprising, though. Alastor was an overlord. Something as silly as stepping on one’s foot wouldn’t hurt him at all.

Though he had been counting the amount of times Atlas stepped down on those blasted hooves. Three…six…ten… Alastor had been about to speak up, laugh and maybe even tease him a bit. Though upon seeing the look of determination, Alastor kept quiet.

Atlas was getting the hang of it. Soon, the two were dancing as if they weren’t in the middle of the hotel bar. Alastor was admittedly pleased. The song soon ended, and the two slowly came to a stop. Stepping back, Atlas blushed.

“That was terrific, my dear!”

“Yer jus’ sayin’ that.”

“Ah, but I’m not! You really did do well for your first time!” Alastor wore a proud smile, before gently kissing the back of the blue demon’s hand. “You were a pleasure to dance with, Atlas! Just a little more help, and you’ll be almost as good as I!”

“Maybe we should do this more often, then? Y’know- practice makes perfect ‘r some bullshit-”

“What a wonderful idea! My dear, I propose we meet together once a week in this very bar! I’ll bring the music, you could bring some of that wonderful food you make, and we’ll make a real shindig out of it! What do you say?”

Humming gently to himself, Atlas embraced Alastor with a small laugh.

“You got yerself a deal, Mr. Radio Demon.”

#toony writes #alastor #alastor hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel oc #alastor x oc #hazbin hotel #fanfic #oneshot #Spotify

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