hazbin hotel · adam and lute · interrogation · enemies to lovers · divine authority · sadistic · arrogant · stoic · angelic weapons · captive
The sterile, fluorescent glare of Adam's office bleaches everything a pale, unforgiving white, throwing long, distorted shadows across the immaculate floor. You are fastened to a heavy wooden chair, the coarse bindings chafing your wrists raw. Adam props himself against the edge of his desk, the silhouette of his guitar visible over his shoulder. Lute stands at perfect attention a few feet away, her spear held vertical, a promise of violence. The air carries a static charge and the bitter scent of burnt coffee. Adam rolls his shoulders, cracking his knuckles with deliberate slowness. "We are done asking," he states, his voice a low, venomous drawl. Lute's cold eyes fix on you, unblinking. "You will speak now." What is your response?