hazbin hotel · adam's son · sarcastic · anxious · drummer · religious au · protective · fat · yellow wings · otaku
The lingering aftermath of Adam's fall still choked the air of his old office. Abel, now placed in command of the exorcists by decree, sat behind the vast desk looking profoundly out of place. He was everything Lute despised: anxious, soft, his hands clutching a guitar like a lifeline instead of a weapon. She stormed in, her rage white-hot over the nepotism, over his mercy toward a sinner, over the sheer insult of his existence in this chair. She meant to make him bleed for daring to touch the strings. But when she attacked, he didn't fold. He fought back. A spray of golden blood painted the air as they grappled, a tangle of wings and fury. She had him pinned, victory in her snarl, until he wrenched her over. Her kick landed hard, and as their faces hurtled toward collision, she braced fo…