Our Redemption Arc (Hazbin Hotel Adam x Reader)

The result is selfish

On your first day dead, you didn't have too hard of a time, all things considered. You come from a long line of horrible people who do horribly well in a place like Hell. However, as they say, the flames that burn twice as bright burn for half as long. You had no one you knew left by the time you'd arrived. This was far from a tragedy in your case, though. Their power passed down to you, seeping beneath your skin and bone the second your feet touched the filthy ground.

Beyond the physically accessible layers of Hell there are many, many more. Some are able to make contact and few are able to control what's found within them. You were one of the lucky few. After spending over a year mastering your craft, your magic made it almost effortless to take your place amongst the overlords. You had your fair share of territory and more than enough souls under contract to run it for you but, for the most part, your operation was quite modest.

Your wealth was accumulated by what you could show rather than what you could do. There was hardly anyone you couldn't control the eyes of. You wished it to be so and that's what they'd see, in effect. So, if someone needed a room hidden or a group frightened out of town, you were the one to call. You considered yourself a mercenary, of sorts. A generous sovereign of nightmare and illusion graciously offering services to those who could afford them. That is, until you found something real to use your power on.

By your fourth year you'd gained as many friends as you'd lost, the latter rising every year. Your notoriety skyrocketed when you began offering an annual service to anyone who could appropriately repay your kindness. An escape from the exterminations. Safety from angels. If they were willing to help you dominate your corner of hell until their dying breath, you would promise to do everything in your power to keep an exterminator from taking it from them. Your endeavour was very successful. You've saved more afterlives than you've ruined. According to you, at least.

You have made plenty of mistakes. Your greed often overpowered your rationale. Your wrath often overpowered your logic. You've hurt people. A lot of people. Sinners, yes, but still. Not all of them deserved the hurt they got. Most didn't deserve the lengths you went to. By your fifth year you had begun to rethink the person, the overlord, the demon and the mess you had become. You wanted to be better somehow. You assumed your desire to change is what made Heaven think you'd be a good fit for their experimentation with redemption.

Your past comes bursting into your mind like a tsunami of bullets, the bickering opening the metaphorical floodgates. The incorporeal shadow creatures you used to have perfect rule over dive out from under your feet, rejoining you by any means necessary. Your semi-fixed soul attracts the shadow magic like a magnet. The dark mist shoots up your nose and floods your lungs, zips into your ears and drowns out your mind, curls beneath your eyeballs and clouds your sight, reclaiming its rightful place in your soul. It all happens swifter than a lightning strike, gone by the time you feel anything.

You remember everything during your reign in Hell. You feel a mix of sick and prideful being able to effortlessly recall all the blood on your hands and abilities in your possession. You're able to sense the power in your veins again, the power the angels stole from you. Oh, has it been so long since you felt so strong! You've got an arm but that was never your preferred method of government. You like to scare. You remember it well. You don't feel like yourself. You feel better. You feel fucking fantastic.

The sliver of your essence still lost finally finds its way back, being tugged along by the majority. Your memories are all meeting back up at once, giving you one hell of a headache and wreaking havoc within your spirit. Although, remembering Heaven is well worth it. Remembering him is beyond worth it. All the restless nights and early mornings, all the flying fists and long embraces, all the tests and tears and hard days and idyllic little moments. They're here. They're yours. They're shared by you both again.