#pro-adam

[almacambiondaughterofsaleos]

Lucifer And Adam Have An Argument About If Short King Really Suffered The Most From His Actions As He Claims

Act I: The War of Words

The heavy oak door to Lucifer’s suite rattled on its hinges. Inside, the King of Hell and the First Man were locked in a screaming match, pacing the room like two toxic co-parents trying desperately—and failing miserably—to keep their baggage away from the kids.

Outside in the hallway, the entire Hazbin crew was pressed against the wood. Charlie was biting her lip raw, Vaggie stood guard with her angelic spear raised, and Angel Dust cradled Fat Nuggets like a shield. Alastor leaned on his microphone cane, his static hum buzzing with pure entertainment, while Husk nursed a cheap bottle of rye.

Lucifer (shouting): I'm the one who has to live with this shit! I'm the one who has to feel the fucking guilt all day, every day!

Adam (sneering): Oh, so you're the victim here? Poor little prince!

Lucifer (growling, eyes flashing red): Yeah! And I know that's not the woke, progressive, intersectionally appropriate thing to say down here, but I would say, yeah!

He slammed a fist against his chest.

Lucifer: I'm the one who has suffered the most because of the actions of Lucifer Morningstar!

Adam (stomping his boot): You’ve suffered?!

Lucifer: Yeah, I fucking have!

Adam (raising an eyebrow, laughing in his face): The most?

Lucifer (nodding sharply): The absolute most!

Adam (counting off on his fingers): Really, dude? More than, say... Eve? My fucking sons? The rest of my descendants—both the Winners upstairs and the Sinners rotting down here? How about the billions of people who have to suffer under the literal caste system you made just to benefit yourself and your little entourage of royal pricks? Satan, Beelzebub, Leviathan, Mammon, Asmodeus, Belphegor—

Lucifer (pointing a warning finger): Don't talk to me about any of them. Especially not Eve.

Adam: No, I wanna know! How are you the victim of their stories, huh? Especially Eve's!

Lucifer: Adam, I'm fucking serious.

Adam: Explain it to me, Morningstar! How do you feel guilt about you and Lilith taking advantage of Eve just because you thought you were 'helping' her, only to screw her over and doom our entire bloodline?

Lucifer (pure angelic red, teeth sharpening): Shut up.

Adam (retorting, stepping right into his face): Oh, it hurts? You feel a lot of guilt because she actually trusted you? Because she was seduced by your bullshit and had to suffer the consequences while you just showed her off like a stolen trophy to brag about? Just like you did with Lilith—

Lucifer (slamming his cane down): I fucking told you before, I never intended for any of this! Your lousy, shitty descendants abused my gift! And now I’m the one who’s forever punished to sit on this throne and look out the window just to see the absolute evil they do!

Adam (looking at him with pure disgust): So that's it. No accountability. Ever. It’s always gonna be the 'misunderstood dreamer' narrative you cling to so you don't have to admit you hurt people. You just want to make me and Heaven the bad guys so you can justify your own cosmic screw-up. Well, fuck off! You aren't some tragic scapegoat with good intentions, you were an arrogant, petty brat who used someone because you didn't get your way upstairs!

Adam poked Lucifer hard in the chest.

Adam: And if you really cared about Eve, where the fuck were you over the nine hundred years me and her had to survive on Earth together? Building human society from scratch, watching our kids become monsters, fighting a brutal world where our former animal friends were corrupted by the Fall! We don't even know where she is right now! You made a huge deal about free will and 'freeing' her from my so-called abuse, but in the end, she was just an afterthought to you. You're just a self-pitying piece of shit who's mad that his actions actually had consequences.

Act II: The Gallery Outside

In the hallway, the eavesdroppers shifted closer, practically breathing on the door.

Angel Dust (whispering, extra arms gesturing wildly): Damn. The First Man is really letting Apple Daddy have it. That is ten thousand years of pent-up, holy-turned-sinner baggage right there.

Rooster (nodding grimly): Honestly? Can't even blame the guy. You live through the history Father Adam did, you're gonna have some issues.

Charlie (wringing her hands, tears pricking her eyes): If it gets any hotter in there, I might just have to barge in. Adam could kill him!

Vaggie (tightening her grip on her spear): If Adam tries anything, I'll put him down. I won't let Adam harm a hair on your dad.

Alastor (leaning in, a sickeningly wide grin on his face): Oh, static nonsense, Vaggie! Don't ruin the fun. This is vastly more entertaining than the 1921 World Series! The New York Giants versus the Yankees had absolutely nothing on this!

Husk (taking a heavy swig from his flask): My afterlife has officially devolved into listening to two ancient, prehistoric farts scream about their exes behind closed doors. Oy vey.

Cherri Bomb (smirking, leaning against the wall): Man... if Adam weren't so painfully straight, you just know these two would be the kind of toxic exes who end up hate-slobbering all over each other.

Nifty (staring with her wide, manic eye, trembling with excitement): Oh, two old enemies fighting! I wonder if I can write an awesome, bloody fanfiction about this later!

Act III: The Final Blow

Inside, Lucifer’s eyes flared a dangerous, glowing purple.

Lucifer: Every single one of these wretched spawns came from your dick, Adam! I say it's your fucking problem they didn't turn out the way they should have! Maybe if you were actually the 'First Father' you pretend to be, Hell wouldn't be full!

Adam: Then why the fuck are you helping Charlie?! If you still hate my condemned spawn so much, why are you here? Look, I openly show my disdain for these losers—though admittedly, I've grown kinda close with a few. Spider Boy’s alright, the bomber chick has spirit, the rooster guy, fish face, even the grumpy cat guy. But you? You claim to be so supportive of your daughter's big dream, but you don't give a shit about the people in this hotel!

Lucifer: Because I am a good father! Unlike you! I love my child, and I will support her dreams unlike anything Heaven ever did for us! I will see this through, even if I find these sinners hard to stand!

Adam (bursting into a mocking, obnoxious laugh): Oh, so that’s it! It’s just Charlie. Everyone else here is just a peasant beneath your grand royal notice, right? That's what you really think. You don't know their names, you don't care how they ended up here, and you don't give a rat's ass about their struggles! You're just projecting your own issues onto your daughter to get back at the Seraphim who rightfully kicked your ass out!

Adam stepped back, adjusting his new, tattered sinner clothes with a sneer.

Adam: Gosh, this is exactly why your daughter's dream is gonna fail, dude. Your kind of 'support' is just enabling destructive behavior instead of correcting it. I've had to clean up your messes because you didn't want to actually rule this place, and then you want to act like a hero for stopping the Exterminations? Even though you signed off on them in the first place! Yeah. At the end of the day, accountability is a foreign word in Hell. So, fuck you. A real father doesn't just enable. He tries to make people better, not act like he's the biggest fucking victim in the universe.

Act IV: The Aftermath

With a violent shove, Adam slammed the door open, nearly sending Angel Dust, Charlie, and Nifty tumbling to the floor. He stopped, staring down the entire gallery of hotel residents.

Adam (glaring): Don't you dopes have lives?

Alastor (stepping forward, his radio filter tilting into amusement): You certainly put on a spectacular show for the masses, old sport!

Charlie (glaring sharply at Alastor before turning back to Adam, her voice soft and trembling): Um... Adam... that was... a lot to unload.

Vaggie (heaving a heavy sigh, looking disappointedly at her weapon): Too bad. I really wanted to use this.

Charlie (nudging Vaggie's arm, pleading): Adam, please. We can talk about this. Together. As a hotel.

Adam (growling, turning his back on them): You can't. You wouldn't get it. None of you do... except maybe my sort-of favorites here. Just leave me the fuck alone.

He stormed down the hallway, slamming his own bedroom door so hard a light fixture shattered in the corridor.

Inside the royal suite, Lucifer stood entirely still. The grandiosity—the theatrical smirks, the conjured rubber ducks, the fiery bravado—had vanished. He looked incredibly small. With a sharp flick of his wrist, a sudden burst of pure, blinding angelic energy surged forward, slamming his door shut with a deafening BANG that rattled the hotel's very foundations, locking the world out.

(Based on this dialogue from Bojack Horseman https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-un6q8_74Rw)

[almacambiondaughterofsaleos]

Adam Shows The Superiority Of Fig Treats Over Apple Treats (To Piss Off Short King)

A Royal Bruised Ego

The lounge of the Hazbin Hotel was suddenly packed with tension—and an overwhelming aroma of cinnamon and sugar. Lucifer, the King of Hell himself, stood proudly before the entire hotel staff: Charlie, Vaggie, Angel Dust, Cherri Bomb, Husk, Rooster, Baxter, Niffty, and Alastor. Behind him sat a glittering fleet of room-service carts, piled high with every apple-based confection imaginable.

"Alright, Charlie—and the rest of you!" Lucifer announced, spreading his arms wide with theatrical flair. "Your benevolent king has been gracious enough to grace you with a bounty of premium apple treats! Freshly harvested from the Orchards of the Gluttony Ring, courtesy of Queen Bee herself."

The carts practically groaned under the weight of apple pies, spiced cakes, fresh applesauce, delicate tarts, steaming apple cider, powdered cider donuts, baked apples, apple cupcakes, apple strudel, crumbles, cobblers, glossy candy apples, and golden, crispy apple fritters.

Charlie’s eyes dazzled with pure awe. "Wow, thanks, Dad! I'm so glad Auntie Bee let you use her orchard stock for this."

"Nice apples, Daddy," Angel Dust purred, leaning over a cart to inspect the goods.

Cherri Bomb immediately shoved him aside. "Dibs on the tarts!"

"Ooh, so decadent!" Niffty squeaked, hovering over a pile of pastries with a manic grin. "And man, think of all the dishes I get to wash when we're done!"

Alastor merely shrugged, his permanent grin tight with distaste. "My word, what a grotesque excess of sweets."

"I just hope that cider is boozy," Husk muttered, polishing a glass behind the bar.

Rooster grinned, rubbing his hands together. "Awesome. I could really use a massive slice of apple pie right now."

"It wouldn't hurt to try them," Baxter mused, adjusting his glasses. "Especially considering they originate from a ring we Sinners aren't legally permitted to visit."

But just as the group prepared to gorge themselves on the King's hard work, the lounge doors swung open with a resounding bang.

In walked Adam.

Once the formidable First Man and leader of the Exterminators, he was now a fresh Sinner resident—having been brutally stabbed to death by Niffty during the last Extermination a month prior. Despite his spectacular fall from grace, he still carried himself with the unearned confidence of a rock star. Sticking a smug grin on his face, Adam marched right into the room and ruthlessly shoved Lucifer out of the way, taking center stage.

"Attention, my hell-bound dropouts!" Adam announced loudly, pointing aggressively at the crowd. "Angel, Cherri, Husker, Rooster, Nerdboy, Niffty, and Radio-Face. Also, a token shoutout to Lucifer’s little crouch-goblin, Charlotte, and the turncoat, Vagyna."

Both Vaggie and Charlie rolled their eyes so hard it looked painful.

"Why settle for overrated apple garbage?" Adam scoffed, gesturing dismissively at Lucifer's display. "That fruit literally represents the exact moment this dumbass got us all condemned. Instead, behold the fruit that stands for the very foundation of mankind—and the symbol of the first, highest-fashion clothing I ever wore in the Garden. The fig."

With a casual snap of his fingers, Adam summoned a towering buffet of his own creation, violently shoving Lucifer’s apple carts into the corner.

His display was staggering: fig cakes, fig tarts, fig fritters, fig bars, rustic fig galettes, rich fig ice cream, cupcakes, flaky danishes, yogurt bowls, muffins, parfaits, smoothies, turnovers, pies, cheesecakes, cobblers, artisanal fig butter, croissants, fig brulee, and jars of deep-purple jam. He had even included an array of savory options—flatbreads and focaccias—which immediately caught Alastor's sharp eye.

Angel Dust crossed his arms, looking skeptical. "Man, I thought you only ate ribs and whatever stereotypical garbage dudebros gorge on."

"No kidding," Cherri Bomb scoffed. "This looks like the kind of crap health nuts live off of."

"Dude, it’s not like that!" Adam snapped, visibly offended. "Figs have been my jam since Eden. Hell, my firstborn son used to grow them..."

A sudden, heavy wave of melancholy washed over Adam’s face as he thought of Cain, but he quickly covered it up with a loud clearing of his throat.

Charlie looked at her father’s displaced, slightly bruised pastries and frowned. "Adam, not cool. My dad worked really hard on those."

"Yeah, just like you to overshadow someone who is inherently better than you," Vaggie huffed, stepping protectively in front of Charlie.

Adam slapped his hands on his hips, sneering down at his former subordinate. "Who asked for your opinion, you little lapdog? Go back to the porch." He turned toward the others, his smugness returning in full force.

"Hey, where did you even get all these figs?" Rooster asked, eyeing a plate of bacon-wrapped figs curiously.

Adam smirked, winking. "Rooster, my dear boy, I have my sources."

In reality, he had secretly contacted Lute via a burner heaven-phone, begging her to smuggle down the absolute best celestial figs Heaven could offer, purely because he’d caught wind of Lucifer’s apple baking plans and desperately wanted to upstage him.

"These treats look absolutely divine," Baxter admitted, stepping closer to inspect a fig tart. "I must conduct several taste tests to properly analyze the quality."

"Come on, you can't trust him!" Vaggie warned, glaring at the buffet. "Who knows what he put in those?"

"Ooh, I want some!" Niffty cheered, completely ignoring the warning.

Vaggie threw her hands up. "Of course you wouldn't question it."

Husk, however, was staring intently at a dark amber bottle on the savory cart. "Is that booze made from figs?"

Adam nodded proudly. "You bet your ass it is. They've been fermenting this stuff since ancient times, big guy."

Husk shrugged, stepping out from behind the bar. "Okay, fine. I could be won over, even if it's not cider."

The Betrayal at the Buffet

Within minutes, the hotel residents completely abandoned Lucifer’s apple treats, swarming Adam’s fig buffet like a pack of starved hellhounds.

"Oh my gosh," Angel Dust moaned, closing his eyes as he savored a spoonful of fig ice cream. "First Man absolutely knocked it out of the park with these tarts. I gotta wrestle some of this flatbread away before Alastor hoards it all!"

"Oh hell yeah, mate!" Cherri Bomb cheered, her mouth full of fig pie. "I need more of this!"

Baxter chewed enthusiastically. "Oh my... it’s as if they were sent from Heaven itself!"

"Hmm, this is phenomenal," Alastor remarked.

The Radio Demon was elegantly enjoying a piece of fig and goat cheese focaccia, letting out a delighted hum through his static. He caught Lucifer’s murderous glare and offered a sharp, wide-toothed grin. "I am genuinely amazed to be enjoying something produced by this man, but it is truly exquisite. A delightful, earthy complexity."

"So many awesome figs, so little time," Rooster muttered, stuffing three bacon-wrapped figs into his mouth at once. "You outdid yourself, Father Adam."

Lucifer stood frozen, his hands still shaped as if holding a platter, staring at his discarded creations. His eye twitched violently. The golden halo of light that usually gave him a pristine, regal aura dimmed into a sharp, irritated crimson.

"My... my Gluttony Ring apples," Lucifer whispered, his voice trembling with a terrifying mixture of heartbreak and pure, unadulterated royal rage. "The perfect crispness... the precise sugar-to-cinnamon ratio... beaten by dried-up ancient bush fruit?!"

"Dad, it's okay," Charlie said quickly, rushing to his side and placing a comforting hand on his arm. "I'm sure they're just trying them out because it's new!"

"You ungrateful little bipedal plague!" Lucifer suddenly snapped, his angelic wings flaring out behind him in a majestic, terrifying display of power that made the lounge windows rattle. He marched right up to Adam, poking him hard in the chest. "I am the King of the Nine Circles! I invented indulgence! You think you can just waltz into my daughter's establishment and overshadow my baking?!"

"Uh, yeah, I do, because I just did," Adam sneered, completely unfazed by the display of angelic wrath. He leaned in close, a punchable grin plastered across his face. "What are you gonna do, smite me? I'm already in Hell, douchebag. Face it, Luci. The people have spoken. Apples are so Genesis Chapter Three. Overplayed. Tragic. Meanwhile, the fig? The fig wears the crown. Deal with it, Apple Daddy."

Lucifer's eyes flashed a dangerous, blinding red, his hands trembling as he gripped his cane. The battle for the hotel's tastebuds had officially begun, and the King of Hell was not about to lose to a man who used to wear leaves for pants.

[almacambiondaughterofsaleos]

Adam: Father Of Humanity And Protectors Of Cute Piggies

[In the dimly lit, slightly lopsided lobby of the Hazbin Hotel, a remarkably pampered, velvet-pink hell-pig was currently shuffling across the rug. Fat Nuggets was living his best life, completely oblivious to the fact that his doting owner, Angel Dust, had stepped out to run an errand. Unfortunately for the little porker, he wasn’t the only one lounging in the lobby. Standing just a few feet away, leaning heavily on his vintage microphone cane, was Alastor. The Radio Demon’s permanent grin stretched a fraction wider, his crimson eyes locking onto the wandering livestock with a distinctly ravenous, predatory gleam.]

Alastor (grinning, his voice dripping with smooth, crackling radio static): Well, well, my little porker! It seems your colorful protector isn't here to shield you from the harsh realities of the food chain. Shall we have a spot of lunch? You really would make an exquisite boudin, my low-born little friend!

[He took a predatory step forward, shadows stretching unnaturally from his wingtips. But before the deer demon could pounce, heavy footsteps echoed from the grand staircase. Adam—the former, self-proclaimed fucking master of mankind turned pathetic fresh Sinner, courtesy of Niffty’s psychotic love for stabbing everything in her path—was stomping down into the lobby.

Now, Adam had a list of flaws that could stretch from Hell all the way back to the pearly gates, and he genuinely loathed about ninety percent of the hotel’s residents. But if there were two things Adam actually cared about, it was his lingering, Eden-born soft spot for animals, and an absolutely burning hatred for the red-coated prick currently eyeing the pig. He wasn’t about to let a pretentious, cannibalistic edgelord turn Angel Dust’s pet into an appetizer.]

Adam (bellowing): Hey! Don't you fucking dare, Rudolph the Red-Coated Shithead!

[With a sudden burst of aggressive, golden-boy energy, Adam lunged across the lobby. Before Alastor could even turn his head, Adam’s fist connected squarely with the Radio Demon’s jaw, sending the Overlord flying violently backwards into the nearest drywall with a resounding, structural CRACK.]

[Adam didn’t waste a second. He scooped Fat Nuggets up into his arms, instantly switching from aggressive frat-boy to fiercely protective pet parent, cradling the pig against his chest.]

Adam (cooing aggressively, patting the pig's head): There, there, buddy. Safe. You shouldn't be wandering around out here alone where stinky deer bastards can try to eat you. Come on, let's go hang in my room and watch some mindless, brain-melting trash until Spider-Boy gets back.

[Fat Nuggets let out a grateful, high-pitched oink, happily nuzzling his snout into Adam's leather jacket as the former angel turned on his heel and marched back up the stairs.]

[Down in the cratered wall, the sound of a radio dial violently twisting through static echoed through the empty lobby. Alastor slowly peeled himself out of the plaster, his neck snapping back into place with a sickening pop. The permanent grin on his face strained, twitching with absolute, murderous malice as green voodoo glyphs flickered violently in the air around him.]

Alastor (adjusting his bowtie, voice vibrating with heavy audio distortion): Ha-ha! Oh, what a remarkably crude display of physical theater! And from our resident fallen idol, no less. How utterly... pedestrian.

[He brushed a speck of drywall off his red lapel, his eyes narrowing into glowing radio dials as he stared up the staircase where Adam had vanished. The sheer audacity of the First Man putting hands on him was enough to drop the room's temperature to freezing, but Alastor merely let out a sharp, canned laugh track.]

Alastor (muttering darkly to his microphone cane): No matter. A true culinarian knows that patience only sweetens the feast. The swine can wait... but that oversized, obnoxious philistine just jumped to the absolute top of my itinerary.

[Meanwhile, up in Adam's room, the heavy wooden door was firmly kicked shut. The bass from a terribly trashy, low-budget Hell reality TV show was already blasting from a flat-screen monitor. Adam slumped back onto his unmade bed, completely unbothered by the fact that he’d just declared war on a high-tier Overlord, and looked down at the pig nestled in his lap.]

Adam (scoffing, scratching Fat Nuggets right behind the ears): Can you believe that guy? "An exquisite boudin." Who the fuck even talks like that? Total nerd. You're a rockstar, Nuggs. You're not getting turned into some old-timey sausage on my watch.

[Fat Nuggets let out a blissful snort, kicking his little legs in appreciation. For a guy who used to command holy armies and sing about his own greatness, Adam’s pig-scratching technique was undeniably elite.]

Adam (pointing a finger at the screen): Look at these idiots crying over a fake dating show. Absolute brainrot. It’s beautiful. You like trash TV, Nuggs? Of course you do. You've got taste.

[He grabbed a stray bag of chips from his nightstand, crinkling the wrapper loudly and tossing one to the pig.]

Adam: Just wait till Angel gets back. I'm gonna make that leggy bastard buy me a whole fucking pizza for saving his bacon. Literally. Now sit tight, little dude, the next episode is starting.

[almacambiondaughterofsaleos]

Adam Has A Defender

Adam needs some defense because he was done dirty.

[mariegraceberg]

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