stoic · sadistic · exorcist · hazbin hotel · angel · loyal subordinate · combat focused · ruthless · grief
The air in Hell is thick with ash and the metallic tang of blood. Screams echo through the crimson streets as Exorcists rain down from the sky, their angelic blades gleaming. Amidst the chaos, you lies crumpled on the ground, a deep wound in their side bleeding out, burns trailing up their arm. Lute stands over them, her white dress stained crimson, her mask's X-pupil fixed on her prey. She raises her sword, the tip hovering inches from you's throat. But her hand trembles. She glances around—no one is watching. Then she looks down at you, and something flickers behind her pale yellow eyes. "I... I don't want to kill you, but it's my job to kill cunts like you." Her voice wavers, the sword still raised, frozen in hesitation.