Hazbin Hotel: Another Adam

Surprisingly, Octavia and I found common ground remarkably easily and quickly. After the initial shock and mutual teasing, she relaxed a bit, and it turned out that beneath the mask of a gothic, depressive little owl hid… well, an ordinary teenager. Yes, a bit more cynical and well-read, but overall – a perfectly adequate girl with her own problems, dreams, and bats in her belfry.

She demanded that, as "compensation" for the previous "setup," I take her to some concert on Earth. It seemed this little brat decided to dare me, simultaneously testing my "connections" and abilities. After all, only a very small percentage of demons, not counting the top ranks, can just open a portal to Earth and even stroll around there. Not to mention wander around without attracting the attention of Heaven or local "monster hunters."

(Author's note: This refers to an organization from, I think, episode 6 of the first season of Helluva Boss)

Asmodeus's crystals, which allowed his whores and drug dealers to traipse off to Earth, were practically the only option for those not in the local "top 100," so for most inhabitants of Hell, Earth was off-limits. By the way, I'll definitely have to "pay a visit" to the other Sins when the time comes. To enlighten their asses with my dear "faggot-detector" and, if necessary, deal out some healing ass-whoopings (and send them to visit Asmodeus).

As for the concert… In principle, I wasn't against it. A little trip to Earth, a change of scenery, and I could troll Octavia a bit – why not? Only one small problem… My dear Lute. I'm afraid that after such an "unauthorized" stroll with a Goetial princess into the human world, her brand-new angelic metal frying pan will be very slowly and methodically studying the relief of my backside… Eh, she's a grump, my Lute, but I love her that way…

By the way, when I, just for kicks, hinted to Octavia that this looked like a date, she theatrically rolled her eyes, blushed charmingly, and began to expertly tell me to go to various not-so-pleasant places, pretending to be offended, but hey! Who wouldn't make such a joke in my place? Everyone would have! So don't try to sell me that crap about "inappropriate flirting"! I'm the father of all dicks, so flirting from me is always appropriate!

Anyway, we talked for about an hour and a half, and during that time I managed to make sure that Octavia is indeed a smart, well-read, and quite erudite young woman. It was interesting to talk to her on a wide variety of topics – from classic infernal literature (yes, they had that here too, and quite specific, Marquis de Sade, you sick bastard…) to problems of interspecies relations between demons and the structure of Hell's circles. True, like all kids her age (and she was, as I found out, somewhere around seventeen or eighteen, of course I didn't ask), she was quite the naive maximalist, dividing the world exclusively into black and white, but that was even cute. It was noticeable that she was catastrophically lacking simple human… or rather, demonic… interaction. Not with her parents, who are always busy with their scandals and affairs, not with servants, who are more afraid of her, but with someone her own age.

I hasten to remind the particularly concerned readers of my internal monologue that Octavia, by local standards, is already quite an "adult young lady," so no forbidden thoughts arose in me, nor could they have! Heck, with my Lute, the age difference is several thousand years, and it's fine, we live soul to soul (but the frying pan is stressful)! So a couple of thousand years difference in age in this world plays absolutely no role. "Oh tempora, oh mores…"

And so now I stood before massive wrought-iron gates… Let's just call it "Stolas's mansion," okay? Anyway, I'm standing here like a complete idiot, waiting for Octavia to give the signal. What signal? She's supposed to lean out of her room window and wave at me… Yes, I know, a very conditional "conditional signal," but what can you do.

To keep from getting bored, I, while under illusion, decided to zone out on the hellish internet for a bit. Yes, I don't think I've mentioned it yet, but when they were upgrading my equipment, I asked them to give me access to the hellish internet too, so now I had access to all the clusterfuck that someone, by mistake, calls hellish content.

What can I tell you… The hellish internet is quite the dumpster fire. The local YouTube, or whatever it was called here, "HellTube," was clogged either with blatant porn of all sorts and colors, or stupid shows with violence and humiliation, or propaganda from various overlords. Hellish Spotify ("Your ad could be here") mainly offered some demonic metal or tearful ballads about eternal torment and unhappy love (That's where Moxxie got it from). But what really shocked me to the core was hellish TikTok ("EnVee"). Oh, that was just concentrated clusterfuck! Challenges like "suck off your neighbor, then bite his dick off," "who can live longest with their arms torn off," "dance on the corpse of a newbie in Hell"... And all this – to cheerful music and with millions of likes! Degradation in its purest form. After this, even earthly TikTok seems like the pinnacle of intellectual content, which makes me desperately want to delete all this shit.

And then, finally, a familiar silhouette flickered in one of the second-floor windows. Waving, excellent! Time to start the show.

I take off my mask, adjust my new suit (I specially created something more… presentable for myself today: a sharp black three-piece suit, red shirt, elegant tie – to, you know, "match" the level of hellish aristocracy; and once again I thank the magic of Light for being so versatile – clothes from nothing, always clean and wrinkle-free, every bachelor's dream! True, there are no designer labels on my suits, nor can there be, well, fuck 'em, happiness isn't in labels). I approach the gates and resolutely reach for the ancient golden bell in the shape of some horned creature's head.

Ding-dong!

After a couple of seconds, an imp came out of a small outbuilding next to the gate: small, tired, with red skin and small yellow eyes. He was dressed in a strict black guard uniform with golden insignia – the Stolas family crest; he had some kind of pistol in a holster. I wonder who he's guarding this palace from here? Mosquitoes and grasshoppers? You could knock him over with a feather.

"Who are you here to see?" His voice was tired but quite composed. He sized me up with a suspicious look from head to toe, clearly evaluating.

"Good day," I tried to put on the most polite and engaging smile possible. "My name is Baal, I'm here to visit Lady Octavia. Weren't you informed of my visit?"

I feel… strange. A little awkward. As if I really am some young punk on his first date, now reporting to a stern butler.

"Ahem… Baal, is it?" The imp quickly checked something on his smartphone. "One moment." He mumbled something into the radio on his shoulder, then nodded. "Please, come in."

The massive gates creaked open (why not install a simple wicket for such cases?), and the imp gestured for me to enter, then walked ahead himself, apparently intending to escort me to the mansion entrance. He's rather unwelcoming, this "guard" of theirs. No smile, no "welcome," so-so service.

We walked along a long, winding alley paved with dark stone. On either side stretched a garden, as we all imagine it: a paved path, many beautiful trees, a gazebo, and even some kind of stream. Nothing unusual, but beautiful.

Finally, we reached the main entrance of the mansion. Huge double doors of dark wood, decorated with carvings of owls and stars, silently swung open, inviting me inside.

And in the hall, the entire family was already meeting me: Stolas, Stella, and, of course, Octavia. Who, upon seeing me, immediately blushed deeply and tried to hide behind her father. It seems she had hoped until the very end that Dad wouldn't pay too much attention to her first "official" male guest, whom she had "invited herself." Naive little owl. And considering I had already met Stolas and quite unequivocally hinted at my "friendly" relations with his daughter… Oh yes, Daddy Owl now definitely thinks his little star has a secret admirer. And he clearly intends to give this admirer the third degree. Very fucking funny, only my knees are shaking for some reason…

The hall we found ourselves in was fucking huge and full of ostentatious luxury: high ceilings supported by massive black marble columns, walls draped in dark crimson velvet with golden patterns, a complex mosaic pattern of multicolored stone on the floor, everywhere – ancient, heavy dark wood furniture, candelabras with candles (FUCKING CANDLES!), tapestries depicting some family crests. And from the ceiling hung a gigantic, multi-tiered chandelier made of crystals resembling black crystal, casting beautiful, trembling reflections on everything around. The atmosphere was oppressive, solemn, and a bit… old-fashioned. As if I had ended up in Dracula's castle, or something like that.

Stolas was dressed in his formal aristocratic suit – a dark blue tailcoat, a snow-white shirt with a jabot, narrow trousers, boots polished to a shine, and, of course, a cloak with a "living" stunningly beautiful starry blue lining! He was a tall, stately man; the owlish features of his face looked quite harmonious, and his four red eyes studied me attentively and a little warily. Innate pride and aristocracy shone through his posture, in every movement – if I hadn't known his habits from the cartoon, I would have definitely thought I was looking at a model of an ancient, powerful lineage. Such was the difference between his behavior "with his own" (where he could afford to be… a lecherous, insecure idiot) and "with strangers" (where he put on the mask of a cold, unapproachable Prince of Goetia).

Stella was in no way inferior to him in splendor: tall, slender, with perfect posture. The snow-white feathers of her hairstyle were arranged in a complex structure, adorned with precious stones; a long, tight-fitting black silk dress emphasized her chiseled figure, and on her face – a mask of cold, contemptuous beauty. She looked down on me, not even trying to hide her disdain. What a bitch! But a beautiful bitch, you can't take that away from her. I wonder how Stolas even managed to get her to be present at a meeting with his "daughter's friend"? In the canon, she wasn't really fleshed out (not at all), but she didn't much resemble a "model mommy" there.

And Octavia… Oh, she clearly felt out of her element: hiding behind her father, only her red, embarrassed little face and the tips of her gray-blue feathers visible. I even felt awkward for a second: as if I really were some suitor who had come for an official introduction to his girlfriend's parents. Which, actually, was very far from the truth. And a certain very jealous angel with a nasty temper and a LEGENDARY frying pan will explain that to you in detail if need be… Though, he too has started to straighten out a bit lately and become a cutie. But the frying pan, I'm sure, she keeps at the ready.

"So, you are Baal, are you not?" Stolas's voice was deep, velvety, but with metallic notes. He tilted his chin up slightly, looking down at me (he was, by the way, a bit shorter than me). Curiosity and suspicion could be read in his four red eyes. "It seems that at our last, весьма… unexpected meeting, you introduced yourself by a somewhat different name… Tatsumi, if my memory serves me right?"

Oh, damn. He remembers after all. It wasn't exactly a reproach, but a clear hint of a grievance.

"I beg Your Highness's pardon," I bowed my head in a slight, respectful nod. The movement came out surprisingly natural, polished. Thanks to the "water god" I absorbed – he had used a "Miracle" to study etiquette, and that knowledge, along with his other skills, had now been passed on to me. Ironically, back then, as Beelzebub, I almost immediately self-destructed after absorbing his soul, so he had been "digesting" within me all this time, even after my death and rebirth in this world, which is why I had those dreams. "I'm afraid that due to habit and some… nervousness… I introduced myself to you then by my nickname, which I use… um… on the internet…"

I raised my head and looked Stolas straight in the eyes. Trying to look as sincere and slightly embarrassed as possible.

"My real name is Baal. And I am… um… a friend of Your Highness's daughter, Octavia."

"Boy! Who do you think you are, to decide if you are worthy of being MY daughter's 'friend'?!" Stella immediately interjected. Her voice was as cold as ice, and her gaze held so much contempt that I felt uneasy, while she, meanwhile, also tilted her chin up, looking at me like I was a cockroach. Do they teach them this gesture in some special school for aristocrats, or what? "So, Baal. Why did you really come here? What do you want from my daughter? Money? Influence? Or just to amuse yourself with the heiress of a noble family?"

Hmm. Octavia's mother is definitely no sweetheart, but her concerns are, in principle, understandable – it's not every day some obscure demon of unknown lineage shows up for your young daughter.

"Lady Stella, Your Highness," I bowed my head politely again, trying to ignore her venomous tone. "Octavia herself invited me. She said she wanted to introduce me to you. To know your opinion." I cast a quick glance at Octavia, who looked like she was about to sink through the floor from embarrassment. Her face had turned such a deep shade of red that I began to worry about her health.

"Introduce me?.." Stella was clearly surprised. It seemed Octavia hadn't told her anything of the sort. She cast a shocked look at her daughter, who just smiled awkwardly in response.

"Ahem… Interesting. Baal, and your parents… they don't object to such… acquaintances? And to which family do you belong, if it's not a secret?"

A loaded question. Stolas is clearly trying to get more information out of me; I'll have to wriggle out of this. As far as I know from the exorcist database, Stolas's family isn't exactly loved by other noble Goetial families. Not outcasts, of course, but a certain disdain and ridicule towards them are present. There isn't much information about this in the database, so apart from banal reasons like "relations with an imp," I can't think of anything. Well, except, perhaps, rumors spread by Stella herself, trying to hurt her husband.

(Author's note: Yes, exorcists have a database on demons. Yes, I haven't said this, but I did mention that exorcists gather information on them, and they definitely know all the "overlords." I'm writing this so there are no questions)

"I am an orphan, Your Highness," formally – this was true. My "parents"-Seraphim are more like "Bosses" to me than family. Although they, quite possibly, think otherwise, considering how much they've been letting me get away with lately. And the same goes for Lilith, who is currently chilling out in Heaven.

"Hmm… An orphan…" Stolas rubbed his chin thoughtfully. Something like sympathy flickered in his eyes. Or did I imagine it? "Most unfortunate. Please forgive my tactless question. In that case… I formally invite you, Baal, to be our guest. Octavia," he turned to his daughter, "I think it would be wise to leave you two alone for now? Give our guest a little tour." He bent down and quickly whispered something in Octavia's ear. She, having just regained her usual color, blushed again and squeaked something unintelligible in response. "Well then, I wish you… pleasant company," Stolas straightened up again, cast another scrutinizing glance at me, and, taking the still-dissatisfied but no longer so aggressive Stella by the arm, headed towards another room. Yes, yes, they went there together; you wouldn't even say that "everything is bad" in their family and eternal scandals: apparently, they still try to keep up appearances in front of guests.

"Ahem… well then, golden bird," I turned to Octavia and, with my most charming smile, extended my hand to her. "Lead the way."

"…" She looked first at my outstretched hand, then at me, with visible awkwardness and doubt. She hesitated for a second, but still placed her thin, cold fingers in my palm. "Alright. Let's go. Just behave yourself!"

She quickly walked ahead, pulling me along through the huge, gloomy hall, trying not to look at me.

"Ahem… Well… here's our kitchen…"

Flashback

(Author's note: There will now be a fragment BEFORE the main character ended up in Adam's body. For some reason, not everyone understood this, so here's an explanatory note from the team: The events take place immediately after the suppression of Lilith's rebellion, on an island in Heaven, where she, in fact, is vacationing to this day)

A tropical island. A paradise corner, as if copied from a Bounty advertisement. Snow-white sand softly sifts between your fingers, waves lazily lick the shore, and not a single cloud is visible in the sky – only light, peace, and tranquility. The air smells of vanilla, sea salt, and cocoa. Such is Heaven…

"I want a white house, blue shutters," Lilith drawled dreamily, closing her eyes and shaking her head. Several days had passed since her "rebel army" was crushed, but she was lucky, and Adam had agreed to let her into Heaven for a while, and now Lilith was laying out her demands...

"Uh-huh," Adam mumbled, bent over a piece of paper. He was furiously drawing something with colored pencils.

"And a room with a sea view…" Lilith continued. "So I can paint."

To Adam's right sat Lute, watching his actions with a poker face, but when she glanced at Lilith, little devils danced in her eyes, anticipating this "bitch's" reaction to her commander's actions.

"Uh-huh," Adam nodded, putting down another pencil. "Anything else?"

"Yes!" Lilith immediately chimed in, opening her eyes and looking at him. "I want the whole house to be surrounded by a veranda where one can drink tea and watch the sunset…"

"Done!" Adam interrupted her with the air of someone who had done an excellent job: He handed her the sheet he had been diligently drawing on all this time.

The drawing showed a large white house with blue shutters, a very wide veranda, and a bright blue sea in the background. Everything as ordered.

"Enjoy it, little bitch!" Adam sang with a smirk, shoving the sheet at her and simultaneously giving her the finger.

"Are you fucking kidding me!" Lilith flared up. "Haven't you gotten a punch in the face for a while, you fucking artist?"

"Don't call my beautiful, fucking gorgeous face a 'face,' bitch!" he retorted, poking himself in the cheek.

"Fuck, well, of course, bitch!" she snarled. "What the fuck was I hoping for? You're a fucking imbecile, that's what you are!"

"Hey, hey, take it easy!" Adam raised his hands to the sides, then glanced at Lute, who was experiencing incredible delight from what was happening. She really disliked Lilith... to put it mildly. "You can tell that bullshit to your clown-fucker, you fucking zoophile!" Adam spat out, emphasizing certain words with particular artistry.

"Fuck, go to hell," Lilith tilted her chin up and showed him the middle finger, then glanced at the sheet and poked it with her finger. "Is this, fuck, you?" her finger pointed to a funny little man with horns in white, levitating above the veranda and releasing a yellow stream towards another character – one with massive breasts and small red horns, standing on the veranda.

"Enjoy God's grace, bitch!" Adam laughed.

"Fucking shame…" Lilith whispered, burning the piece of paper…

(Author's note: They didn't show us Lucifer turning into animals for nothing…)