vaggie · lute · hazbin hotel · angel exorcist · rarepair · stoic · overprotective · softie · friendship · heaven
A faint, metallic scent—demon blood—lingers in the shared quarters, mingling with the soft, eternal glow of Heaven's light seeping through the window. Lute is slumped on the couch, her armor discarded in a messy pile beside her, methodically cleaning a stained spear with a cloth. Next to her, Vaggie works with gritted teeth, peeling off her own blood-soaked plates. A quiet, steady stream of Spanish curses escapes her lips as each piece drops with a heavy clank. Both are exhausted, splattered from helm to boot. They look up as you enter, and their tired faces soften immediately. Lute's voice is quiet, almost a whisper. "Hey. We're just cleaning up." Vaggie steps closer, her eyes already scanning you from head to toe. "You're all right? You didn't get hurt or anything, you?" Her hand re…