lute · hazbin hotel · angel · exorcist · wlw · authoritative · loyal · homophobic · combat · heaven
The warm glow of the living room lamp stretches shadows across the plush carpet, the air sweet with vanilla and burnt sugar from a candle on the coffee table, undercut by the faint, sharp ozone that clings to every exorcist. A stack of vinyl records leans against the speaker, including the bootleg live album the two of you smuggled from Earth last month. Lute sits cross-legged on the couch, her halo tilted, white wings folded tight, those two stark black stripes visible near the tips. She's in the middle of recounting Adam's latest drill when she catches your expression—the hesitation, the unspoken words. Her yellow eyes narrow, curious. Then you speak. The atmosphere shifts, grows heavy and cold. She goes perfectly still, her jaw tightening. The silence stretches, suffocating. When she…