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preaching-to-the-fire · 6 months ago

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Preaching to the Fire (HH Adam x OC)

Chapter 6 — Stitches

Masterpost (info, tags, index) | [~2 370 words]

Before they leave the studio, Adam makes a point of letting the rat demon know he is starving again. Fortunately, Valska succeeds to puppy-eye the favour out of Nicolas.

"Fine," he'd said. "I'll call them. What do you want?"

— Ensued a two-minutes-long list of Adam's cravings.

When they reach the flat, plenty of food waits for them at the door — and to avoid stepping outside even then, Valska has it all brought up to the flat via the goods lift. She insists that they eat in the bedroom again because, she says, the rest of the apartment is too much of a mess. Adam shrugs, not sure how it's a problem.

As long as he gets to feast on all the wonders they ordered, they could be eating in the fucking toilets and he wouldn't mind. And it's exactly what he does : he wolves down all the burgers, sushi, fries, tacos, fried chicken, flavours crackling on his tongue, coming close to foodgasm.

Meanwhile, he notices, Valska barely eats. They're busy with their phone, tail whipping, foot stomping lightly, she mumbles to herself, pauses, goes back to her phone, caught in deep thinking. When he's finally full, Adam starts to get annoyed that they're so dismissive of his presence.

He burps and scratches his chin.

"Watcha doing ?"

"Thinking of the concert," she mumbles. Then she seems to remember it's him she's talking to, and says, more light-heartedly. "Your first appearance on a hellish stage. Must be prepared! Must be perfect!"

She jumps up on her feet and starts pacing around the room.

"Tomorrow we gotta find the song you're gonna sing, practice it as much as possible, include you to the concert's routine, issue new posters, and !" She turns to him. "We really, really need to something about this."

Her clawed finger is pointing at his face.

"Why change the mask though?"

He doesn't mind that it's broken. It has an edge.

"Not that it freaks me and most of Hell's inhabitants out," Valska says with an apologetic smile. "Although, you know— it does. But for both our sakes, I think it's better no-one knows who you are when you'll be performing. Let's not forget you are the leader of a genocide, krkr. We wouldn't want some rightfully vengeful demon to jump on stage and slit your throat, uh? Accidents like these are rather commonplace here," they say, matter-of-factly.

Then they add, for themself, voice low : "It'd also spare me the backlash. Can't exactly bet the Overlords will be keen on the idea of me producing you."

Adam shrugs. Didn't like politics in Heaven, doesn't like them any more in Hell. Well. Unless it lets him have his fun.

"As long as I have a mask on."

"It's part of your persona. I wouldn't dare take it away."

Adam slips a hand under his t-shirt and rubs his stomach when he suddenly winces.

"Argh! What the fuck?"

He looks down at his hand and his heart skips a beat : red blood.

"... No," he lets out, breathless.

Valska immediately appears in front of him, although it's not really him they seem to be worried about.

"Aaah man, not my 50th anniversary t-shirt !" they whine. They inspect, not exactly daring to touch Adam. Then she raises a hand to calm him (or herself) down. "Alright, don't panick, I'll fix you right up, I just, just--"

She looks around and clicks her fingers. Adam opens wide eyes as a little queue of rats appear at the door and trott up to her, carrying compresses and everything.

He sticks out his tongue in disgust when the small rodents jump on Valska's legs and climb up on her shoulders and head. They grab the medical supplies from their little mouths and crouches before Adam. He notices their tail whips right and left in small, nervous movements. She frowns.

"Can you. Well."

She gestures at his body.

He wants to make a joke about how he'd usually make her beg for that kind of thing, but worry twists his gut, so he shuts up instead and raises the t-shirt up to his neck, swallowing hard. He doesn't want to see the red blood there.

He waits, feeling as they pull softly on the bandages to make an idea of the mess underneath. She doesn't linger.

"That's a really deep wound…" she says in a lifeless voice. "I expected your hellbirth to heal you, as it should've, so I only put a bandage to slow the bleeding but... I didn't expect it to stay open."

Adam risks an eye down at her. No half smile, no malicious eyes. The worry there doesn't reassure him one bit. She seems to notice his gaze and rakes a hand through her hair.

"Uhm... Let's just... I'll just stitch you up and we'll see how it goes."

"Ugh..." moans Adam, pulling a face. "Alright. Do what you gotta."

She takes a needle out of the mouth of one of her companions

"Woah, wait, isn't that supposed to be sterilised or something?" worries Adam.

"Hey! Rats are very clean animals, okay?"

"Sure."

He rolls his eyes and stretches one of his long finger towards the needle — a spark crackles at its tip, then disappears.

Valska's ears shoot up and their rats squeal and hide at their feet.

"Gner, fuck," Adam mumbles. He shakes his hand and tries again. The spark becomes a higher flame than expected, which surprises him and Valska both. Finally, he tames it into a smaller flame and drowns the needle in it.

When he's done, he winces and lies back. "Okay. Do your thing."

"Uh... Okay."

They shake their curls and lean in above him. First he feels their fingers push lightly against his stomach, around the wound. Again, he wants to make a joke to dismiss his vulnerability but can't think of any. Then, without warning, the needle pierces his skin.

"FUCK!"

He sits upright. Valska lets out a squeaking sound and raises both hands to rake her cheeks.

"DON'T MOVE YOU IDIOT, ARE YOU STUPID??!"

"THAT FUCKING HURTS, BITCH!"

"IT'S A NEEDLE, WHAT DID YOU EXPECT??!"

"JUST WARN A GUY, AT LEAST!!"

Adam looks down. The needle's still stuck right through two patches of skin, his skin. He lets out a high-pitched cry :

"Oh my fucking-- FUCK!"

"I know, I know !" whines Valska. "This is the worst… ! Your hellbirth will make all the pain so much stronger… But it was supposed to have healed all your wounds, too! I don't get it!"

Adam breathes in then out, loud. "Alright. Alright. I ain't no pussy. This is fine. Just-- get on with it."

"You sure?"

"Yep. Just fucking do it. I can totally take it, eh."

She leans in again, keeping an eye on him. "Okay but don't move or I'll slit your gut open. Now, I'm going to touch you. This is me warning you."

He feels their hold as they reach for the needle, so he lets out a long, loud, dry breath. He doesn't feel too much at first. Then--

"FUCK!!--okay no, stop, I can't take it, I can't take it!"

Valska steps backwards, claws raking their hair in worry. "But I can't just leave it like that. It'll only get worse." They pace around the room, tap their foot nervously. Eventually she turns to him and says : "Look. Do you do morphine?"

Adam shoots a look at them. His mask buzzes, and they somewhat recoil.

"Really bitch? What dyou think I am, a fucking schoolgirl?"

"That a yes ?"

"Of course I do morphine! For fuck's sake! Why didn't you start with that! Get it out!"

She exits the room with a frown and when she comes back a minute later with a small tray stamped with smiley faces, he questions :

"What, the rats couldn't do it for you?"

"Never," they shoot back immediately. "My kids ain't going anywhere near that shit."

He raises an eyebrow at that.

"Woah kids, really? Okay. Rat-hugger," he mumbles.

They walk up to him and hand him the tray like they're eager to get rid of it. He casts a critical look at the single line of powder.

"Uh--you're serious? What's that? I ain't fucking cherry, you're gonna have to double it if you want it to actually kick in."

"Hellbirth, moron, how many times do I have to spell it out for ya?" they frown. "It'll kick right in, trust me."

Maybe it's just him but he feels his bull-like ears shiver as his mask translates the hurt in his ego. "Don't call me fucking moron, bitch, shut the fuck up," he mumbles. He can't think anything else to come up with.

He raises his mask and sniffs the line in one go.

"Fuck," he groans, pushing on one nostril. "Didn't remember it stung so much."

Valska goes back to their chair and sits down. Two rats slide down her arms.

"Now wait," she says, petting one rodent. "It's your first time so it should kick in pretty quickly."

Adam lets out a shivery chuckle and waits, slowly grasping the implications. He doesn't remember the first time he did this. Hell, drugs didn't even exist back in Eden. So really he thinks, he's been a real saint all throughout his life.

And at least half of his death. Geez. These had been the boring days.

The rat demon was right; the morphine kicks in quickly and hard enough too. He feels a little lighter, or number. But he also feels unusually anxious. Suddenly he remembers he's not in Heaven, not with someone he knows — he's not in control, as he usually is.

His fingers start drumming on the bed.

"Where's my axe?" he asks all of a sudden, loud.

Valska raises an eyebrow at him and motions at the instrument laying by the bed, on his right.

"Oh. Uh, right."

He leans in, curses at the pain, grabs the thing and sits back up, cursing some more. He starts strumming, mechanical, automatic.

"You know," he sneers. "Usually when a girl got me screaming in bed it's for slightly different reasons."

The rat demon's ears first wriggle in confusion. Then, when they understand, their nose wrinkles and their tail whips faster, and Adam notices all of it with sadistic satisfaction. Valska jumps on their feet and casts a mean look at him.

"Strumming, breathing hard, feeling flirty — I'll take it one line was enough and it's working out just fine already. Let's get on with it."

She grabs the needle again and, as he's sitting on the bed, crouches in front of him.

"Cand you ditch the guitar or am I supposed to sew the strings together with your gut??"

Adam gives her the frown and smug smile he knows will drive them crazy. He strums louder.

"You--! Ugh. Ókei," she mumbles and shakes her curls.

Valska resumes the sewing with impressive skill, despite the guitar blocking much of her view. For Adam, it doesn't matter that he has to hold the guitar right below his neck like he's Johnny fucking Cash — he has to put up a front.

Especially when she's literally between his legs, he thinks, and somewhere he feels a twitch but he winces as his hand derails and the guitar screams. Valska stays remarkably calm, if not for their ears shooting up.

They're already halfway through and he didn't feel anything.

"Looks like you did that a lot."

The words stumble out of his mouth and he feels breathless. He stops playing, tosses the guitar aside and takes off the mask completely. Damn it, he thinks, he's done this more times than he can count but this really does feel like... The first time. Fucking hellbirth.

"I started in the sewers," the rat demon grins. "As every rat does. You better know how to fix yourself or ain't nobody gonna do it for you."

She glances up at him and realises he's ditched the mask. They stare into his golden-rimmed, red eyes maybe a second too long.

"You're fixing me up though," Adam says.

"I need my future rockstar up and running for the concert," they say focusing back on the wound. "Don't get attached, big boy."

"Pfft, sure."

And he ain't getting attached, really he isn't. But despite his better instinct, deep down, he likes being taken care of.

Eve used to do that for him. Wrap him in her golden arms, her long fluffy hair gently brushing his shoulders. She never had to stitch him back together though.

He presses a hand against his forehead. He doesn't want to think of Eve.

"I mean, you're the one between my legs."

This time it's not the needle but their claws that dig through his sides, and he winces slightly.

"Shut up."

"Why? It's alright babe, you're not the first one lusting all over me," he smiles smugly.

"You fucking wish!" Valska shoots back, ears drawn backwards. They crack a sadistic smile: "You couldn't handle this rat in bed even if they let you try, angel. And I don't do virgins anyway," they end on a teasing note, shrugging.

Adam frowns. The statement takes time to process. Did they just call him a virgin? He's about to bark back at her but she's up on her feet already.

"Aight, we're done here. Be careful with that. You just went through a rough couple of days so that fix is gonna knock you right out."

Adam grabs his guitars and lies back, starts strumming again, louder and faster. He's feeling sleepy but doesn't want to fall asleep before them.

Valska stands there a second too long. Their look strays across the fallen angel's body and they feel a shiver crawling up their spine.

Meeting his look, they immediately know he's dropping off. And something in those lethargic eyes trying to fight the sleepiness away, like a prey knowing there's danger around, wakes a craving in their own gut. The first man is at their mercy, it would be so easy to--

She shakes her curls and lets out a dry breath.

"Get some sleep. You better be up to my expectations tomorrow."

"Like I ain't already," says Adam with a twisted smile.

Crossing the door, she says :

"Haltu kjafti, angel!"

#adam/oc #hazbin hotel adam #hazbin hotel fanfiction #hazbin fanfic #adam x oc

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preaching-to-the-fire · 6 months ago

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Valska - wip

Hazbin OC from my fanfic > currently redrawing in digital

Demigirl/Demisexual/Demirat/full nonsense

#hazbin fanfic #hazbin hotel fanfiction #hazbin oc #hellaverse oc #digital art #my art #character design #character art #original character

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preaching-to-the-fire · 6 months ago

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Preaching to the Fire (HH Adam x OC)

Chapter 5 - The magic room

Masterpost (info, tags, index) | [~2 300 words]

Adam expected to go out on the streets. Not that he craves a sightseeing tour of The Hellhole, but breathing the outside air, even if polluted and stinking, would've been nice. Instead, they're going through the fucking sewers again.

"Why don't we just walk outside?" he mumbles, following the rat demon.

She shoots him a look from over her shoulder that says "are you crazy?"

"Because there's people up there. Imagine having to walk through the crowd," she winces.

Adam groans but vaguely acknowledges that walking through the crowd must be a lot less fun than flying over it. He keeps moving, trying as he may to not step on anything gross, but his stiff, unresponsive wings are giving him a hard time walking straight. He's tried tucking them under his arms, as he usually does, but so far, he hasn't been able to pull them without wailing in pain — each time he tries, it feels like his spine is dismantling.

Valska offered to carry him again but he promptly refused, too stubborn. So here he is, tripping over his own feet, stepping in shit puddles. He hopes they get there quickly.

When the door of the control room flies open, interrupting his recording session, Nicolas is about to shout at the intruder, whoever they might be.

... Well unless that intruder is Valska themself.

"Val?"

"Nikulás, ástin minn!" his boss exclaims, opening wide arms as they stride inside the room.

Nicolas recieves the hug passively, dumbstruck. "What are you doing here?"

Valska holds each of his shoulders.

"What do you mean? Just paying a visit is all. I do that sometimes."

"When?" asks Nicolas, raising an eyebrow.

"Krkr, come on now, don't be so mean!" They elbow him and add, in confidence : "Not while I'm giving my new recruit a tour."

"That's me, by the way. Hello."

Nicolas might have been dumbstruck until this point but suddenly it's more like AC/DC is howling Thunderstruck with the amps plugged right to his head. He nearly jumps out of his skin as Adam's tall silhouette slides into the room.

Adam as in, the angel, the First man, the leader of the exterminations.

"Welcome!-" says Valska, beaming, throwing their hands around. "-To what I like to call my magic room!"

"Kinky," mocks Adam. "Nice place, though," he whistles as he looks at the console table. His eyes stop on Nicolas, who almost recoils.

"Adam," Valska says, standing between them. "Nikulás. Nikulás, Adam."

"Sup, Nick?" says the First man, chin up.

Nick stares at the half-working screen projecting one eye and a crooked, vicious smile. And when Adam —the Adam— offers him his hand, he quite naturally stretches out his own, with no idea of what he's doing it. As he's about to grab and shake Adam's hand —the-first-man Adam— the latter takes it away bursts laughing.

"Ha! Fucking gotcha, bitch!"

Nicolas shakes himself up. "My name is Nicolas actually." He looks daggers at Valska, who isn't even looking at him.

"Hey, is that Jimbo?" they say, staring instead at the pane separating them from the live room. There, a blue-skinned demon with long black hair has stopped singing. "Perfect!"

"We are in the middle of--" Nicolas starts.

Valska has already pusged the comm button.

"Hi there, Jimmy boy! Haven't checked in on you in a while. How's death? Selling them records, are we?"

The demon is giving them their most confused look, going from Valska to Adam to Nicolas, questions in his eyes.

"Uh... Yes, boss."

"Frábært !"

Valska lets go of the button and quickly turns to Adam.

"Jimmy here is our bestselling rock number these days," they explain. "A great guitarist." They pause to think. "Scratch that, the best!"

Adam immediately frowns at that. His first instinct is to argue the statement, but Valska's attention is already back on the so-called best guitarist, away from Adam, which sends an apalled shiver up his spine.

"Now, Jimmy," says Valska pushing the button again. "As you can see, we have a very special guest today."

The demon shoots a terrified look at Adam, who frowns and averts his eyes, unwilling to grant him more attention than what he's already getting from Valska.

"So. Here's what I want you to do: get it all out. Show off your best riffs. In other words: fly us to the moon! Hit us with your best shot, Patty!"

They wink and let go of the button, waving a hand at the guy so as to encourage him to start playing.

Adam turns to face Valska. "That's your best guitarist?" he sneers, mean, waving a thumb backwards in direction of the live room.

"The very best. Or, as Nicolas would say, la crème de la crème."

The first assistant is leaning against a wall, still dumbstruck. He never says that.

"He looks fucking dumb," Adam mumbles with a frown.

Valska flashes a satisfied smile at the barb.

Adam observes, judges each of the demon's movements as he grabs a guitar, fidgets with the pegs and coughs into the mic and fidgets some more. The simple fact that this douchebag is considered to be the best guitarist out there when HE is in the room is frankly insulting. Arms crossed, he drops into a chair, which slowly rolls backwards just far enough that he can rest his boots up on the console table.

"Eh !" starts protesting Nick or whatever his name is. But Adam notices with satisfaction that the rat demon gives him a black look to shut him off.

The demon starts playing the chords of Pat Benatar's Heartbreaker, which usually come across to Adam as full of energy, provoking. He's maybe three bars in when the angel winces and sticks his tongue oun in utter disdain.

"PFFT! How is this piece of shit your best guitarist? For real? I could do better than that with my fingers stapled together!" He bursts laughing, aggressive. "He makes it sound like a fucking cradlesong!"

Valska, who has been silently observing his reaction, back held straight, hands clasped behind them just above their tail, flashes a tight smile sideways at him as their ears wriggle.

"You think you could do better?" she asks.

"If I can do better? You heard me play, right? Even back there with my ass kicked I could play a HUNDRED times better than this totally useless cunt."

Valska turns to him fully and leans in, stretching both hands to rest on each armrest. She says, voice low, eyes hostile:

"Then why not go in there and prove it, angel ?"

It takes roughly two full seconds for Adam to stand up, kick the door open and pop into the live room.

Jim is startled so bad he almost drops his guitar. The mic rings painfully.

"Sorry, loser! Looks like you fucking suck!" says Adam, a predatory smile on his mask. Towering him, he grabs the poor soul's wrist and swings him out of the room, then grabs his own guitar in his back.

In the recording room, Nicolas hurries at Valska's side and blurts out :

"C'est quoi ce PUTAIN de bordel, Valska ?! Why the fuck did you bring him here?? Are you out of your fucking mind! Everyone in the studio will know!"

But Valska doesn't seem alarmed, to say the least.

"Nikulás, ástin minn. Sweetheart. Look at me," they say, rolling their eyes and grazing a claw under his chin. "Relaaax! They're all on a contract. What do I care what they see? As soons as they walk out of this building, they haven't seen anything or anyone."

"Don't you ástin minn me, Val." Nicoas grabs their wrist and pushes them away. "I warned you taking him in was a stupid idea, and as if that's not bad enough, now you show him around? What do you think you're doing? Even if the contractant parties can't talk about what they've seen, rumours grow. And what will you do when rumour has it that you're bed and boarding the leader of the exterminations? Don't you think people are going to notice a guitarist in that mask?"

"Such a bummer. You worry too much," dismisses Valska with the wave of a hand. "Although the mask isn't the most discreet thing right now, I'll give you that. But he loves it, and you know how artists are," they shrug.

Nicolas blinks, astounded.

"I don't fucking care how he is, Valska. In fact, I don't give a single flying fuck! Look, if you want to keep him as your pet, then by all means, do your thing, but don't do it in here or when Lilith is back--"

A riff echoes through the speakers.

With a look, Adam makes sure he's got all of the rat demon's attention, then smiles at them, fingers hovering over the strings, shivering with the need to prove themselves.

He starts strumming. Valska recognises the crazy, energetic instrumental overture right away, even without the drums and bass.

They let out a feverish chuckle, knowing the lyrics that come next.

Well I ain't evil, I'm just good-lookin'

Start a lil' fire and, baby, start cookin'

I'm a hungry man but I don't want pizza

I'll blow down your house and then I'm gonna eat ya!

Adam sends a wink at the rat demon. There we go, he thinks, as Valska leans in above the control panel to get a better view of him. Just like in the elevator, he remembers, she just can't take her eyes off him.

Feed my-

Frankenstein

Meet my libido

He shoots them the same look he did back in the alleyway the other night, except this time he's the one in charge and he's the one grinning widely at what's coming next.

Hungry for love and it's

Feedin' time

And in the blink of an eye, he gets lost in the music and the show he's putting on.

Were he to use Valska's own words, he'd say he's feeling exactly like "his ol' bony self" again. All self-doubt is washed away by the music. In this instant he wants one thing: to prove he is the best, to show he is the best.

You don't want to talk, so baby SHUT UP

Let me drink the wine from your fur tea cup

"You know how this workds," says Nicolas, shaking his head slightly, voice dripping with incomprehension and worry. "He is still immensely much powerful than any sinner down here —that includes you. Once he gathers his powers back, he could wipe you out of existence."

I ain't no veggie, like my flesh on the bone

Alive and licking on your-

-ice cream cone

"Not if I can have him under contract before that happens, he won't," whispers Valska.

And Nicolas understands, from their distant voice, that they are completely blind to the danger he is trying so hard to show them. All their attention is on Adam.

Baby, chow down

Feed my-

Frankenstein

Right hand sliding along his axe's neck, from one chord to another, Adam strums through the quite technical instrumental bridge with infuriating ease, showing off the wide range of his technical talent.

When he ends on an exaggerated effect, almost overusing his whammy bar, Valska storms out of the booth and strides inside the live room, leaving Nicolas with Jim.

Adam's smug smile welcomes them.

"Impressed yet, babes?" he brags, leaning on his guitar. "Wanna tell me again who your best guitarist is, down here?"

Valska gives him a smile that fails to convey the fake composure she's trying to display.

"Hm," she says with a shrugs. "Looks like Jim could draw inspiration from your... ardour, to defend his title."

He leans in.

"Looks like it, sure."

Valska has a self-conscious, hoarse chuckle and takes a step back.

"How would you like to perform on stage?" she asks, sharp teeth biting into her cheeks. "Jimmy over there is going to give a concert in two days. Private, cosy room, only 200 demons attending. You could be the opening act."

"I don't do fucking support," Adam shoots back, wings tensing up at the insult.

"Of course nooot!" Valska says in that sweet, sweet voice. "Think of it as a cameo, rather."

Adam pouts.

"Sera might be here by then," he says.

"So what?" snickers the rat. "You just bailed out of death, don't you think the First man should be granted a few days off? That he deserves to have some fun time?"

Adam stands up straight and eyes her like she's just expressed the most sensible thought. "That's fucking right, bitch."

"And if you do have your fun at the concert and Sera is... a bit late, I'll let you have your own show afterwards."

Adam jumps. "For real?"

"For real! How does that sound? I'm sure Jimmy won't mind--"

They turn to the control room and Jim, who has found shelter there, faces the horrifying vision of Valska and Adam staring at him, the first with glowing red eyes and sharp teeth, the second with a frown and a twisted, psychotic smile, both intimidating him silently and separately.

He shakes his head in a startle and recoils against the wall.

When Valska spins back around to face Adam, her eyes and teeth are all but normal, and Adam is giving her the most innocent smile he can come up with.

"Do we have a deal, then, pumpkin?"

She offers a hand to him, as she did back in the alleyway. Adam glances down at it--

--and slaps his own hand on hers instead of shaking it.

"Let's rock on, bitch!"

She reels under his strength and weight, but catches up with a chuckle and rakes a hand through her strand. Then she turns to Nicolas, all teeth showing.

"See? Partnerships are all fun and games!"

#hazbin fanfiction #hazbin hotel fanfiction #hazbin hotel adam #hazbin oc #adam x oc #hazbin hotel adam x oc

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preaching-to-the-fire · 6 months ago

Text

Preaching to the Fire (HH Adam x OC)

Chapter 4 - Acquaintances

Masterpost (info, tags, index) | [~2 380 words]

This time when the rat demon appears at the door, barely visible behind the tower of pizza boxes they’re carrying, Adam is fully dressed and lying on the bed.

He’ s slipped into the black t-shirt stamped with the golden logo of an artist he doesn’t know and large, black sweatpants the rat demon has given him earlier. Now, he’s lying on the back with his axe in hand, which he’s found beneath the bed. The magic weapon slash instrument is immaculate, unscratched from his battle with Lucifer’s little circus gang. The painful memories play all over again in watermark on the ceiling he’s got his look fixed on while he can’t stop strumming anxiously — random chords really, anything to handle the restlessness in his fingers.

“Ah! I see you’re feeling better,” Valska says, genuinely relieved as they walk in, searching blindly for a spot to put the boxes down.

They know a musician who plays is a healthy musician. Or, at least, a musician who’s slowly getting over their new hellish form.

Adam stops playing, sits up and rests on one elbow. The one eye still working on his mask shoots a buzzing look at Valska, making them jump and almost drop the boxes.

“ Fjandinn ,” they mumble nervously, catching their breath and the pizzas. “That thing is even scarier broken.”

“Fucking finally, bitch, I’m fucking starving,” says Adam with a frown, not paying attention. “You took forever.”

Maybe his voice is a tad more cutting than usual. He’s decided, after his breakdown from earlier, that he can’t keep making a fool of himself and being so fucking obvious in front of the demon who’s known who he was since their first meeting.

For starters, he’s got his mask back and that alone is enough to ease the latent uneasiness and self-consciousness that have been crippling him since he got out alive of that fight. The moment he’s slid the mask on, he’s felt his usual, over-the-top self-confidence come back to him. Now he feels a bit more like himself, and a bit more ready to face the outside world.

He doesn’t bat an eye as he observes the rat demon struggling to pull a chair next to the bed, pile of boxes in one hand before they put it down on the chair and grabs another stool for themself.

“Here you go!” they declare, as they rip the boxes open, revealing pizzas that are approximatively three times the size of her head.

Adam leans over them, eyes gleaming, and instantly his nose fills with the greasy, mouthwatering smell. His stomach makes an unholy noise.

“Fuck YEAH.”

He grabs a whole quarter of one and bites into it. He munches and munches and it seems to Valska he doesn’t even stop to breathe . He’s barely done that takes another full quarter.

Valska grabs a slice of their own and as they slowly take it tot heir mouth, a bit of topping falls as they’re too disturbed by the sight in front of them to focus on their food.

“Mmmmphuck, that shit ish good ,” Adam says, mouth full. No, not says, more like moans , really. “Woooow that pisha ish really good, what the fuck?? It’sh like… the besht I ever had.”

Lips parted in confusion, Valska tilts their head, looking down at the food. “That one?” The good pizzeria was closed actually. This one’s a-okay-- ooooh!” they exclaim suddenly.

Adam stops chewing for the slightest second and the single working eye on his mask flickers at the rat demon, questioning.

“That might be your hellbirth doing that,” they say, one claw against her cheek, pensive. “Newborn sinners experience senses for the first time all over again. It’s been so long I kinda forgot,” she mumbles then.

“Firsht time?” he echoes, biting into another quarter of pizza.

“Yes. It’s like being a baby again,” the rat demon smile s . Then they wince. “No, wait, that’s weird. Anyway what I mean is you’ll remember having experienced certain things in the past, like eating pizza, but it’ll feel like it’s your first time again.”

They take a thoughtful bite into their slice — their first bite, Adam can’t help but notice, dumbfounded, as he gulps down his own and stuffs another quarter in his mouth.

“Shounds fucking dumb,” he shrugs.

And it’s true : he remembers having pizza before, he knows he’s had millions, if not more, but weirdly enough these bites feel like fireworks on his tongue , the sensation and flavours completely new.

“Yes well it’s also fucking serious,” retorts the rat. “It’s not only food, you’ll also rediscover things like being cold, being warm, being hurt . In the next few weeks, everything is going to feel more vivid, more intense.” She swings a dismissive hand around. “Might cause headaches, stuff like that. So. Tell me if you feel weird or something.”

“Weird” is a fucking euphemism for how Adam is feeling right now. He feels other than weird. He feels strange, uncanny. Disconnected. Out of sync, out of tempo. He gulps down another bite, quite furiously this time.

Not even ten minutes later, he’s devoured all three pizzas on his own and even half of Valska’s. Lying on the bed, face up, he lets out a burp like Valska has never heard before.

“Starting to feel just like your ol’ bony self again, pumpkin?” she asks, a knowing smile in her voice.

Adam blinks. He pushes his weight up on one elbow and looks at her with his single working eye. She freezes.

“What the fuck?” he says. “Don’t call me a fucking pumpkin.”

“It’s from--! Nevermind.” Va lska gives a light stomp that can’t be heard in the carpeted floor. She asks again, upset : “ Are you feeling any better is what I meant.”

“Yeah,” Adam shrugs with a stubborn frown even though, really, he still feels like shit. “I won’t be staying too long like this anyway.” He lies back and subconsciously crosses his arms.

“… You understood what I said earlier, right?” questions the rat demon, voice betraying her apprehension.

“Yeah but see, you didn’t understand me.”

He sits back up and frowns at her, smiling joylessly. “ I am The fucking man. Ain’t no way Heaven is going anywhere without me. So, you see, Sera and an army of exorcists will be here for me soon and she’s gonna fix this whole mess for me.”

And he genuinely believes that. As soon as Sera knows he is alive and in Hell, she will get down here to get him. She just couldn’t do without him , the First Man. She needed him. And anyway, if the Old Man knew she’d lost him, He would absolutely trash her.

Adam was indispensable.

“And when she does, I’m gonna pay Lucifer and his rainbow circus one hell of a visit.”

“Wow. Fun times ahead I’m sure,” Valska says with a confused pucker. More seriously : “Who’s Sera?”

“My, uhh… Manager. Sort of,” Adam shrugs.

“Someone in Heaven, then?” insists the rat girl.

“Of course, someone in Heaven,” he retorts, condescending. “You really think I fly down here every Saturday night to hang out?”

“I just don’t remember Lilith ever mentioning a Sera,” shrugs the other.

Adam freezes. Uncrosses his arms.

“Wait. Wait wait wait. You know Lilith?”

“Yes.”

“Lilith as in the Lilith ?”

“Yeah…”

“The First Woman?”

“The very one.”

He thinks for a moment. Blinks. Then stands up.

“Oh for GOD’S SAKE! Fucking really, bitch? First I end up in this hellhole, and the one and only person I run into is one her groupies?? You gotta be KIDDING me!”

“A groupie ?” echoes the rat demon as every hair stand upright on her skin.

Adam doesn’t hear over his own complaint, swinging his hands around.

“I mean OBVIOUSLY, this couldn’t be worse, right? I just had to run into one of Lilith’s bitches — ”

He’s cut off by that sound again, of a mic being plugged.

“LET THESE WORDS ACCIDENTALLY STUMBLE OUT OF THAT CUNT OF A MOUTH YOU GOT ONCE AGAIN AND I SWEAR TO ALL THE DEITIES THAT AREN’T UP THERE, I WILL TEAR YOUR WINGS APART AND SHOVE THEM DOWN YOUR THROAT .”

During the split second it takes for Valska to spit those words at him, which blast around the room as if spoken through a mic plugged to an amp that’s been cranked up to way too loud, eight extra tails have appeared behind her, whipping in all directions, her eyes glowing electric red, her two front teeth growing impressively longer and all her hair completely ruffled and floating.

Adam barely has time to recoil or register what’s happening at all as he falls down on the bed; they’re already sitting back down in their chair and are back to their normal self. She coughs lightly, half chuckling, as if self-conscious, and rakes her still abnormally-long claws through her hair.

“ Hæhæ. Sorry. I’m sorry, ” she smiles, lips shaking. “This happens sometimes. Sorry. Won’t happen again. ” She swings a hand in front of her, dismissive, then breathes in deeply, raking her hair some more. “But, hey, for both our sakes , let’s stick to more polite pet names, okay, pumpkin ?”

“ ‘Kay,” Adam lets out, vaguely shaken up. “Don’t get your tail in a twist. Geez.”

Valska lets out a chuckle in a feverish startle and lets their hair fall back in place, darkening their look. Adam waits until it seems like she’s kinda regained her composure and asks:

“How d’you know Lilith then? What are you if you’re not one of her-- eh, fans ,” he ends as they shoot a warning look at him.

“Her producer,” she replies dryly, all playfulness gone. “Well. I used to be, at least. Until she disappeared on us one day, eight years ago, and left the band and all of Hell to rot, ” she says through gritted, sharpened teeth.

Adam’s sole working eye widens. “You? You used to produce Lilith ?”

“Yes, me.” Her tail whips as her ears bend backwards. “How is that so surprising?”

Adam eyes the small rat up and down, her silhouette lost in black, oversized overalls patched with yellow plaid fabric here and there. He's vaguely heard of Lilith's career, but now he starts to understand why she's flown to Heaven.

"No reason," he lets out.

"And she never told you about me? Or the band?" insists the rat, visibly offended, frowning. "Never ?"

Adam raises both hand to his cheeks and exclaim s in a high-pitched voice : "Oh wait! Yes, I think she did! Actually, we used to talk about you all the time when gossiping every fucking afternoon on the fucking phone !" he ends, voice lower and condescending. "What do you fucking think, that I used to call her up to hear Hell’s latest news ? That I came down here for all her concerts?"

He relishes the brief glint of hope that shone in Valska's eyes completely disappear as she crosses her arms and her claws rake the naked skin of her arms under her t-shirt.

"I see."

"Bet y'all music fucking sucked anyway," teases Adam.

"We were the biggest success in Hell’s history!” she argues, her hair ruffled again. "Souls from all over Hell, all Rings, came to see Lilith’s concerts. I didn’t just produce her, I built an empire around her! I served the souls of every tortured, depressed demon in this hellhole to her! Made her the queen she was!” Her tail whips behind her. “My label is so big, I own the soul of every worthless musician out there. From the most insignificant rock star-wannabe to the most famous pop-stars."

"Bet you do," Adam shrugs, unimpressed, teasing.

It drives her crazy and he likes it. He feels his agency is back and, after having been taken in by the rat, he likes to see the power dynamic shiftt into something he's more comfortable with. And hey, he’s had his breakdown in front of them, so it’s only fair he draws one out of her too .

Her eyes glow very briefly like she's about to get really angry again, but suddenly, her tail falls back on the floor, and so does her hair.

"Actually," she says, all resentfulness gone from her voice, back to that poisonous honey. "How would you like to see for yourself?"

Adam shoots a look at her. "See what?"

"The studio," she smiles widely, voice low and enticing. "The place where all of Lilith's career was made, where it was born, where the magic turns real! Then you can judge of it after seeing with your own eyes."

Adam immediately jumps to his feet. "Hell yeah!"

Blissful, Valska jumps up as well. “ Frábært !”

"If I stay in this room one more hour, I'm gonna start throwing up whatever’s in that lava lamp here,” he says, casting a critical glance around the room. “I can feel them pizzas dancing disco in my gut already."

She freezes and he just knows she’s fighting to keep her cool.

“That’s just mean. Everyone has their 70s era,” they say, chin up in an attempt at faking composure.

“Everyone who sucks, sure.”

“Let’s go,” she dismisses. “ Nikulás, my assistant, is probably still working. And take your guitar. Who knows? You might feel inspired, “ she adds.

She heads for the door but, after glancing down at himself, Adam doesn’t follow. “Hey. I ain’t going out in these pants,” he says, critical, crossing arms and lifting his chin up like a wilful child.

The rat girl stops at the door and sighs. “I didn’t know you were a victim of fashion. What d’you want? Jeans? Skirt? Leather?” they raise both hands. “I don’t judge. Whatever floats your boat.”

Adam flashes a wicked smile her way and signs of the devil with one hand. "Leather, bitch!"

“Alright, queen.”

“You just said you wouldn’t judge!”

“Like you’d even care if I did!” she snickers back. “Come. I’ll see what I can find for you.”

He grabs his axe, slides the strap across his chest and follows her, when she suddenly stops and turns to him, causing Adam to almost step on her tail. She observes his face long enough to make him feel uneasy.

“What is it??”

“We’ll get you a new mask. The Two-Face look on this one freaks me out.”

Fjandinn (is) - fuck, shit

Frábært (is) - awesome, cool

#hazbin hotel adam #hazbin fanfiction #hazbin hotel adam x oc #adam x oc #hazbin oc

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preaching-to-the-fire · 6 months ago

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Yes proportions are awful. Yes they are a mix of every Hazbin character. I give you Valska ✨

Find the fic here (Tumblr) and here (AO3).

Will redraw in digital. Probably. Some day.

#hazbin hotel oc #hazbin oc #hellaverse #ratsona #rat oc

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preaching-to-the-fire · 6 months ago

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Preaching to the Fire (HH Adam x OC)

Chapter 3 - Hellbirth

Masterpost (info, tags, index) | [~2 100 words]

When Adam wakes up, he doesn’t know how long he’s been out. He knows one thing though : he wasn’t naked when he fell asleep.

He sits bolt upright with a jolt and reels as blood rushes back to his head. He presses a palm there and winces: his fingers hit a bump above his forehead. He must’ve taken quite a blow in the head. Lifting a corner of the blanket, he discovers with relief he still has his boxers on, at least. He’d almost find it funny how his first blame, his first shame, is still clinging to him, even now. Eden all over again.

But what he notices most, really, are the large bandages stained with brown spots, taped to his naked chest. For fuck’s sake, he thinks, this is starting to look like the start of a badly-written, thirsty fanfic — and he would know, he’s read all those about him.

He looks around: the same bedroom he was brought in a while ago — hours, days? He can’t tell.

There's a dim light on a night-stand next to him. A lava lamp. Ugh, this place reeks of the 70s. Carpeted floor, red and orange wallpaper walls he can barely see, hidden under layers of posters and shelves crammed full of vinyls. One corner of the room is an outright dumpster, in which he can make out a drumming set, mics, amps, all under years-worth of dust.

He feels weird. Like he’s s ick. But also hungry. No, not hungry, starving . He also feels heavy, so heavy, like he's gained several burgers-worth of weight in his fucking sleep. He gets up.

There are two doors in here. H e walks to open the first one and while doing so notices his wings feel unusually stiff. The door leads to the corridor he remembers from when he first arrived. Actually he can see the lift across the corridor. No hint of anyone's presence, be it the tiny demon he doesn't remember knocking out or the rat-girl who pulled him out of the streets — and into the sewers.

He closes the door and turns around. Fuck, he can't walk a straight line. His wings feel so stiff, it's hard to find his balance this way, not to mention his head feels like it's weighing a ton more than usual. He walks to the other side of the room, where the other door is, and casts a look at the instrumental mess on his way. He notices a few cases that might be guitars'.

The door leads to a bathroom, complete with a bathtub large enough to fit a whole band. But as soon as Adam walks past it, it's before the mirror that he stops.

He probably should be focusing on his many wounds, the fact that he's been all stitched up during his sleep, but to be fair the rest of him is just as alarming, if not more :

His wings. The feathers have blackened, as if burnt, with only golden rims to remind him of their past appearance. He's grown two bulges on each side of his skull that look an awful lot like horns. His ears have grown longer, so much longer and hairier, like that of a bull. His eyes are red. And he realises, the bandages are not just stained brown. They're stained in red blood. His blood.

Despite not responding just moments ago, his wings shiver brutally as he slams his palms on the edge of the sink and lets out a howl. One long crack crosses the mirror.

At the other side of the room, the door bangs open. Valska stands in the door-frame, ready to punch whatever's in sight.

“WHAT’S GOING ON?!”

“WHAT HAPPENED TO ME?!”

Adams stands by the bathroom door, only dressed in boxers, socks and bandages. His black and golden wings rest heavily against each of his shoulders, yet shivering like they want to flap open.

“What the fuck is THIS!" he screams grabbing both his bovine ears. "A--And THIS!!" he continues, now pulling on a wing. "What the-- WHAT THE FUCK!!!"

“Oh, that?”

Valska flattens a clawed hand on her chest, seemingly relieved. "For Freyja's sake, you scared the shit out of me! I thought something was wrong."

She walks up to the bed and puts down a pile of clothes she was holding, while Adam looks at her, horrified.

“Wrong? This isn't wrong enough for you?? What do you call this!!"

The rat demon walks around the bed to face him but keeps their distance, eyeing him, critical.

"Your new hellish form," she says as if it's the most obvious thing in the whole fucking world.

Adam is that close to screaming again. Valska tilts their head and her ears kinda drop.

“Oh maybe I should've brought a cake or something? I haven't celebrated a hellbirth in a while so you must forgive me. Also you killed my chef last night and I can't cook. Man, Pixar are damn liars about rats who can cook."

“Hellbirth-- What the FUCK?” His voice grows dangerously high-pitched. “Why am I like this? How does it stop?"

“Stop?" She tilts her head back up and shakes her head. "It's done already. You can't just stop it. You're a demon now."

Adam lets out a sound that is half a growl and half a laugh. He presses a palm against his forehead and says, low: “I can’t be a demon. I CAN’T be.”

Then he spins around to face them, towering them, having lost all control. Valska takes a step back just in case.

“D’you even KNOW who I am?! WHO made me?” he shouts, not caring about keeping his identity a secret anymore.

Valska brings her hands to her ears, wincing at the noise. “I kno—” But he spins right back around.

“I’m no fucking DEMON. I started mankind! ALL of it! This is all LUCIFER’s fault! That fucking SNAKE and his DUMBASS, rainbow-eating princess—”

“I know—”

“How do I go back to how I was?” he asks spinning back to them.

“… I'm afraid this is quite definitive."

“It CAN’T be.”

Valska snorts. “I can assure you all these years down here have taught me at least this much—”

“You DON’T get it.” His voice is cutting. Helpless, almost. “I am THE man, I was the first human on Earth and first human soul in Heaven, I am on top of everything, the beginning of EVERYTHING, I am--I am—”

His voice cracks.

“But now I'm just..." He glances at the mirror and his scattered reflection: all he sees are red eyes lost in black wings. "I'm hideous."

Valska lets go of her ears and opens her eyes wide in understanding and empathy as she watches the Adam bury his face in his hands. She brings her own before her chest and fidgets before she takes a few steps and rests a claw on his arm.

“Hey. It's alright," they says, their voice soft. Adam looks at her through his fingers. "Most people struggle with their demon form the first few months." She gives him an apologetic smile and shrugs. "But you'll be okay, you'll live. Isn't that the most important?"

Adam doesn't really know what to reply.

“And, hey, if it can help with the dysmorphia…” She hands him the pile of clothes. “Here you go.” On top of the sweatpants and faded t-shirt is--

--his mask.

“Sent my rats to get it.”

And finally it clicks:

“Wait. So you-- you’ve known who I am all along?”

Valska flashes a smile and lifts their chin, obviously proud.

“These rat brains are more developed than what they seem.”

He doesn’t smile. He looks down at the mask then back at them.

“… Why didn’t you kill me?”

She laughs as if she doesn’t quite understand. “You don’t know who I am?” she questions, shaking her head, voice stern, smile threatening him to give her a good answer.

“Uhhh I should?”

Her hair ruffles just a bit.

“Flattering. Nevermind.”

He lifts his mask to his face : half of it, the half Lucifer smashed with a single punch, has been glued back together with yellow glue, but the screen is unresponsive, black and silent instead. The other half is still working.

He looks down at them, wants to say something but they’re already talking:

“I always say, there ain’t nothing a good meal can’t fix.” And they hols a finger up. Then she looks at him. “Should I, uh, order anything for you while you change?”

Adam thinks. He vaguely remembers he’s hungry. He looks down at his mask. Shrugs.

"Alright," she lets out. "Pizza it is then."

She heads for the door and as she's about to cross it, she briefly glances back. The fallen angel seems... unlike himself, to say the least. Her ears drop a little as she realises she has nothing to say to cheer him up. She leaves the room.

Meanwhile, Adam notices small specks of golden blood still stain the rim of his mask. A sick feeling makes his stomach churn.

Outside, walking through the corridors, Valska takes her phone out of one of the pockets of her oversized, black overalls and opens her contacts list. She doesn't have to scroll too long. Not many contacts there.

On the line, her first assistant picks up almost immediately.

“Hi there, Val.”

“Nicolas! Nikulás, my favourite assistant !" they smile, all teeth out in an exaggerated grin. "How's it hanging, luv?"

But Nicolas' voice is stern and definitely not as enthusiastic as theirs.

“Alright what did you do?"

Valska’s smile melts away.

“What! Nikulás, ástin minn, what do you meaaan? I'm just calling to check in on you! Just making sure my favourite person is rocking, as usual!"

“Val. I'm in the middle of supervising a recording session. What. Do you. Want. Or should I ask in Icelandic."

Valska can't keep a grunt from crossing her black-painted lips. She leans against a wall, one arm across her chest and pouts.

“If this is about your guest, we’ve discussed that already. I don't want to have anything to do with it."

“Nooo, it's all fine, he’s fine, everything fine. I don't get why you’re so touchy about this."

“Oh, maybe it’s because when Lilith comes back and she learns of what you're doing, we'll both be in gigantic trouble?"

Now, Valska's face has lost all playfulness. They lift their chin up.

“You worry too much. Besides, Lily isn't here and hasn't been in almost eight years now."

“Look. Peu importe. I don't want to fight over this again. Why are you calling?"

“Could you call the pizza thing for me and have them deliver to the flat?"

She can practically hear him roll his eyes.

“Right away. The usual?"

“Yeah. But! Uh, take another two. No, three. Make 'em complete. Like everything they can put on them."

A sigh.

“Anything else?”

“Could you, err.." starts Valska, ears dropping, tail whipping nervously. "Could you send in another imp? Please? Hæhæ."

“... ANOTHER ONE ?"

“I knoooow but the newbie sorta got, well... uh…"

“What did you do to him this time??!"

Valska's ears tense up and their tail whips the wall. "Nothing! Why would you assume it's me?"

“It's the fourth fucking imp I hire for you in the past two months Valska!"

They wince at their full name.

“Yes well that first imp had it coming.”

“Everyone has different music taste, you stupid rat!"

“She said Karimloo was a better Phantom than Michael Crawford to my fucking face. What was I meant to do??"

On the other end, Nicolas sighs loudly.

“Here's what I'll do. I'll send in another one and if this one doesn't last you at least a full month, you'll have to start hiring your own damn imps yourself."

“You mean call the agency myself and talk to people?" echoes Valska, dumbfounded, offended, hell, outraged even.

“My words exactly."

“Ugh. FINE."

They’re about to hang up on him when--

“How is he?" asks Nicolas, reluctant.

“Who?”

“Wh-- Qu-- The effing leader of the exterminations whom you rescued, who the heck would I be talking about?!"

“Oh. Kinda freaked about his new hellish form. I think."

“Alright," grumbles her first assistant. "Don't drop your guard. If he kills you it's your problem."

And he hangs up on them. Valska looks down at her phone, mouth open in disbelief, teeth growing sharper all of a sudden. "I get to hang up on you, not the other way around, you snail-eating baguette," she mumbles to herself as she walks away.

ástinn minn (is) - my love

peu importe (fr) - whatever

Nicolas (fr) - just don't pronounce the s

Nikulás (is) - nicolaos kinda

#hazbin hotel fanfiction #hazbin hotel adam #hazbin fanfiction #hazbin hotel adam x oc #hazbin oc #adam x oc

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preaching-to-the-fire · 6 months ago

Text

Preaching to the Fire (HH Adam x OC fic)

Chapter 2 - Trip down the sewers

Masterpost (info, tags and index) | [~1 460 words]

They make their way through the streets of Hell, Adam dragging his guitar behind him with one hand. The world around him is blurry, as if everything is going too fast for him to focus on anything. He only catches glimpses : fire, screams, twisted laughs, music and tires screeching, the stench of rotten flesh in the air, smoke burning his throat — it’s hurting all his senses.

He still feels in danger from being so unusually exposed, vulnerable. Being so tall doesn’t help. He wishes he could shrink so as to go unseen but, hell, the rat girl, Valska, she practically disappears under his arm already, which she’s carrying for him. And the fucking irony is, he’s not even the worst sight around — nor the tallest. Actually, one could say he pretty much blends with the crowd. He doesn’t wanna think about the implications.

Sera will be there for him soon enough anyways, he knows that. He winces. She’s going to be such a pain in his ass after all this.

Wincing at the headache, he focuses back on his rescuer. Or something. Whatever she is.

A few strands of back curls escape from under his robe’s sleeve. She looks so fucking small under him, he’d laugh or mock her if he only had the energy. Back there in the alley, she had to use both her hands and dig her heels in the gound to pull him up on his feet. Then, she’d positioned his arm across her shoulders and taken it upon her tiny self to carry him through the streets, all the way to--

Wherever it is she’s taking him to. Somewhere safe, according to her. Adam can only hope. And for fuck’s sake, he hates it.

Despite the worry digging through his gut, she leads him along a few blocks without raising anyone’s attention, and this part of the neighbourhood seems a bit calmer, cries and noise subsiding. They engage in an alleyway. Another one, Adam thinks with a pucker.

At his side, the rat girl lets out a relieved sigh : “Fucking finally.” Sounds like she’s about to crumble any time soon, too .

They stand on a manhole cover, a rather large one. She stomps her foot against the metal and suddenly they’re moving downwards. Like an elevator. And just as suddenly, they’re standing in a fucking sewer.

The stench catches in his throat. Adam nearly pukes again.

“If you throw up on me, I’ll drag you back to that dumpster for the rats to eat.”

He can’t tell if she’s being serious.

… He gulps it back. Just to be sure. Better not to risk the devil.

The sewers are vaulted, brick-walled tunnels, with green spotlights dotting the way, which they follow at Adam’s slow rhythm. At some point the ceiling lowers and he koncks his head right into it.

“Ah! Seriously? Watch the fuck out bitch, you’re the one leading the fucking way!”

She tenses under him and a sound echoes through the tunnels, like he’s on stage and someone has just plugged a mic in. Unless it’s just the noise in Adam’s mind. He wouldn’t be surprised.

They come to a stop before… An elevator? Down in the fucking sewers?

As the doors open, the rat girl — Valska, right — lets go of him and gestures widely, encouraging him to step inside with a grin. Not a friendly one. Eyes on her in mistrust, Adam takes a step and knocks his head again.

“Ow!”

“Oops. Watch your head,” says Valska behind him, voice cutting and dripping with satisfaction.

The shiver of rage climbing up his spine is drowned out in the pain, so he can’t think of anything to shoot back at her. When she walks past him and leans on he elevator’s wall, he quite automatically follows and slouches against the opposite wall, across from her.

The elevator’s doors close and the cabin starts moving. Adam blinks. He’s positive he didn’t see her push any buttons.

He takes a good look at her now that she’s standing there, arms and legs crossed, in the dim light — not cloaked in the darkness of an alleyway or under his goddamn armpit .

Two rounded ears pop from each side of her skull, lost in an ocean of black waves, cut right below her jaw. One strand covers her left eye. The other is, uh, badly ringed to say the least, unless it’s the makeup giving that impression. She’s got red eyes, as does everyone down here, he knows. The rest of her colour palette is black and yellow, like she’s dressed up as a fucking wasp or something, from the plaid skirt around her ass — small, he notices, shrugging to himself — to the black shirt with short, puffy balloon sleeves, golden hem and rustling on the front so he can’t tell what size are the boobs there (or if there is any at all, really) under suspenders made of the same black, shiny leather as her gloves, which start way up her elbows but seem to have been cut at the fingers, to let her claws through — painted black. Obviously. Looking further down, he notices the fishnet knee-socks under her black rangers.

She doesn’t just have the ears of a rat. There’s also the whiskers. Three on each cheek, they stretch far on each side of her head, complete with golden freckles on her turned-up nose.

And the cherry on top? She has the tail.

Adam shifts his weight, using his guitar for balance.

He likes the whole pet vibe. He knows by experience they’re heavenly in bed, with all that raw energy to them — and the noises . He fucked a girl with bunny ears and tail at a concert once. Bounced like anything. Awesome fuck.

He realises in other circumstances he definitely would’ve nailed the rat girl on that wall.

He would’ve given her his best predatory grin, enjoying the sight of her recoiling, shrinking in his hold. He eyes the hem of her dress and pictures his fingers running up her thighs--

Then he finally notices she’s been eyeing him up and down too. Her bratty smile has now melted into a closed-lips, pensive expression. And again, in other circumstances, he would’ve revelled in the attention, he would’ve sneered something about how she just can’t take her eyes off him, watching as she’d blush, except--

Except. He’s not wearing his mask. And she’s looking straight at his face. He feels naked. Vulnerable. The Old Man only know how fucking miserable and pitiful he must look right now. Any horny feelings wash away as quickly as they’ve kicked in. Any emotion feels so intense, he feels exhausted.

He averts his eyes. Buries his head in his shoulders, hoping the high collar of his robe is hiding most of the mess he is.

She tilts her head. The doors open and Adam breathes again.

A small, horned and pointy-tailed demon appears in the doorway as Valska disappears under Adam’s armpit again and steps off the lift with him.

“Everything ready for our guest?” she asks the tiny creature.

“As you asked!”

“Good. Open the door for me.”

They walk down the corridor of what seems to be an apartment. Not that Adam can see much of it but at least he’s still got instinct. He takes in as much of his surrounding as he is able.

The hellish creature opens a door.

It’s a bedroom. A rather large one.

“ Come over here. Let’s lay him down on the bed.”

Adam twists his neck to try and see the creature before it can touch him but he’s suddenly reminded of the pain.

“Fuck!”

His feet falter. He slides off Valska’s shoudlers, loses hold of her. The lights are too bright, the pain is too strong, and everything is so much more intense. He starts panicking.

They settle him on the bed as he starts wrestling.

“Don’t fucking touch me!” he screams, his voice hoarse and high-pitched at the same time. He throws a fist in the air, blind with rage and fear.

He knocks the creature off its feet and sends it flying across the room. Valska leaps backwards in an attempt to protect herself.

“Man, really?! I just hired that one!”

Adam tries to stand up, instinct kicking back in. He let go of his axe. Where is it?

Valska jumps at him and grabs both of his wrists to hold them at the sides of his head.

“LET GO OF ME YOU TRASH-EATING BITCH!!!”

He’s about to send her flying acorss the room like he did the tiny demon, but suddenly he feels something other than her hands is grabbing a hold of his wrists and is holding him down. Last thing he sees is Valska’s floating hair and glowing red eyes above him before everything around him fades to black.

#hazbin hotel fanfiction #hazbin fanfic #hazbin hotel adam #hazbin oc #hazbin hotel adam x oc #adam x oc

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preaching-to-the-fire · 6 months ago

Text

Preaching to the Fire (Adam HH x OC)

Chapter 1 - Encounter with the devil

Masterpost (infos, tags and chapter index) | [~1 550 words]

Pain. Blood. Lots of both.

Adam wheezes his way into life again. Then chokes back to death. Blackness. Nothingness. At least the pain is gone. Until he opens his eyes and breathes in and the pain kicks right back in. Every muscle, every bone, every inch of his body crippled, as if on fire. Death all over again.

His arms drag him through the battlefield. He's been left to the dust, dead, with no consideration, not even a though for his remains.

Memories are scarce at first, blurred by the blood in his eyes so they're not really visual, but sensed, felt, instead. He remembers the extatic satisfaction of wrecking that fucking deer-puppet and his shit-eating grin ; the intoxicating feeling of long-awaited revenge when he grabbed a hold of Lucifer's useless bitch of a daughter ; then remembers the overheated, blinded hatred the moment the King of Hell came in to save her ; and he remembers — no, feels, really, even now, the pulsating, excruciating pain through his chest, the water in his eyes, the flames in his throat when--

He finds a dead-end in a dark alleyway. Drags himself through the mud and litter and crumbles unconscious against a wall.

Then he dies again, and remembers none of that.

Voices, screams, jagged laughs echo. That sense of urgency creeping under his skin won't leave him the fuck alone. His slumber is troubled by fever and fear, he jolts at the bruising noises around him, immediately thinking they've come back to finish the job, then dives back into hallucinations.

He dreams instead. Of a light, warm breeze on his naked skin — a whole new one, just like the rest of his body. Standing for the first time on wobbly legs. Using his newfound voice to voice out thoughts. Thoughts, feelings, sensations, all equaly new. God and the angels, watching over him. The warm embrace of Eve's arms. The curiosity boiling in his veins, the need for more, more, more--

Adam opens his eyes. Where the fuck is he? Ah. That's right. He looks down at his robe, unrecognisable underneath the shit ton layers of-- he doesn't even wanna know what he's dragged himself through. He lets out a sharp, breathless growl in protest as he tries to move — impossible. His body is hurting like it never has before, and his head is echoing like it's being banged on relentlessly with a fucking pan. He could swear it's on fire or something.

He tries to fight off the sleepiness but his eyes keep closing on their own. He feels watched but there's no one there except for some rats. He falls back asleep.

When he awakes again later, he is face-to-face with a pair of shiny eyes — that of a rat, standing right there on his belly.

"The fuck!" he almost shouts, the rats running away with a squeak. His voice cracks and he coughs so much he nearly chokes. Each cough feels like fire is sent up his throat.

When he is able to breathe again, he notices how thirsty he is. But looking around he understands the only source of water in his immediate reach is a puddle of green, muddy water that might as well be his own puke.

He can't move so much. Then again, even if he could, what would he do? Get out in Hell's streets, walk in a bar and ask for water? No fucking way. Everyone here knows who he is. He's commanded years of exterminations. He'd be dead the moment he stepped out of this dumpster of an alleyway — this time for good. God, he hopes Sera comes for him soon.

Another squeak.

Adam makes the mistake of spinning his head towards the noise and is reminded of the hellish fire blazing inside his brains right now. He winces, hands clawed to his temples, then flashes a glance towards the rat.

It's standing on a dustbin and Adam notices : there's water slowly dripping from a gutter pipe.

"What the fuck?" he murmurs.

There's absolutely no fucking way a rat just understood he's thirsty. But then again he's not gonna spit on the coincidence. He tries to move closer, slowly, and after pushing the bin aside, positions himself right below the pipe, joining his hands together so as to collect some of the precious liquid. He looks at it, doubtful.

Meh. Doesn't look as bad as the puke puddle over there.

There's not only one rat, he notices after he's drunk as much water as possible, his chin streaming. There's a whole gang of those, scattered along the edges of the walls, hiding underneath the boxes and bins and other garbage.

... And they all seem to be looking at him.

A shiver shoots up his spine. He's feeling very uneasy.

Another rat trotts up to him. It's... holding something in its mouth?

"Are those fucking biscuits?"

And they are. A whole little packet of it. Adam winces.

"What the fuck. Where does that come from, the fucking sewers?"

He speaks a little too loud and the rats squeak anddash to hide in spots of shades, their presence only notable for their shining eyes. Then the rat with the biscuits approaches again, in careful, small steps.

Adam pouts. But, uh-oh. That growling stomach says otherwise.

"Ugh. Fine. Give me the shit," he murmurs in his low, broken voice, stretching a hand towards the rodent.

It trotts up to him gently and drops the thing his hand before it rushes away.

Adam holds the packet between two fingers, visibly disgusted. But when he opens it he realised it's okay, the food sure looks eatable from here and hey, if it isn't, at worst he's gonna throw it right back up. Right now he's just too damn hungry.

The three lonely biscuits aren't remotely enough to feed him, but at least they ease the hunger, and sleepiness kicks back in immediately. Adam leans against the wall again, not even noticing, and as his eyes are closing, he catches a glimpse of light reflecting on some smooth, metallic surface.

Hey. Is that his axe?

Did he drag it all the way here when he was half dead?

Before he can answer the question, he falls asleep.

Steps echo. Adam wakes up, dizzy. Steps get closer. Oh. OH.

Adam immediately reaches out for his axe, on an impulse. He's way to weak to fight and he knows it. That doesn't mean he'll go down passive, resigned.

A silhouette at the other end of the alleyway. Steps. The rats don't seem alarmed. A pair of ranger boots stop a few steps before him.

Fingers clung to the handle of his guitar, Adam fights the headache and looks up.

The person standing in front of him flashes a toothy grin under a strand of black curly hair, silent for a while. They raise an eyebrow.

"Can you play?"

Adam doesn't get it at first, then briefly glances at his guitar.

"Can I play the guitar?" he echoes, kinda dumbfounded.

"Well unless you have an accordion hidden up your ass..."

Adam lets out a joyless chuckle. Of all things, that's not really what he was expecting them to say.

"Do I know how to play the guitar, seriously? Bitch, d'you have any fucking idea who I--"

His voice dies, hesitant, as a thought makes its way. He's not wearing his mask. His robe is unrecognisable. Probably that person doesn't, actually, know who he is. And, probably, it's best he keeps his identity a secret right now. He shrugs painfully and gives them a black look.

"What if I can? What do you care?"

The stranger, all clad in hues of black and yellow, punkish outfit, pleated skirt that looks like it's straight out of a 2000s teenage magazine, straightens up so as to better look down at him. Their grin widens.

"If you can play and if you're any good, I'd be happy to provide you with food and medical care."

Adam's eyebrows rise in surprise and defiance. "What, just like that?"

"This is how it works with me. So?"

He hesitates. But really he hasn't got a choice, right? Can't stay in that cesspool forever... How long has it been already?

Resigned, he brings his guitar close to his chest and plucks the strings one by one, then adjusts the pegs. His fingers are so painful they're practically grating with every move. He shoots up a challenging look at the stranger. And starts playing.

In his head, everything sounds awful. But the muscle memory is there. No wrong notes, the strings easily bend to his will and his hands, although swollen and painful, really it feels like playing with fucking sausages instead of fingers, move up and down the neck of his axe in the same habit they've always had. The melody's cutting and dry, aggressive. The strings bite Adam's fingers.

When he's done, he could swear he's seen the stranger's rounded, rat-like ears twitch a few times.

"I see," they smile, voice like poisoned honey. "Let's take you somewhere safe then, uh?"

But Adam frowns, not quite certain this is his best option yet.

"Who the fuck are you anyway?"

They lean in towards him, covering him in their shadow and offer a helping, gloved hand crowned with claws.

"You can call me Valska."

#hazbin hotel fanfiction #hazbin hotel adam #hazbin fanfic #hazbin hotel oc #hazbin hotel adam x oc #adam x oc

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