blood, violence, and depravity!

❥ SACREDSINNERS

medium activity, semi-selective MULTIMUSE with characters from HAZBIN HOTEL. featuring LUTE.

“Oh, well, the whole bag of course. I was practicing, a couple batches burned. I made three, this is the one that turned out the best!” He held them up happy, excitedly. “I barely had to use any of the flour we had since you had so much in that bag. I gave a couple out too. Charlie and the bar cat were very willing to try them.”

Michael was excited, they looked aesthetically pleasing and that seemed to be the thing humans cared about the most. That flour Angel left in the kitchen seemed to do fine too. It smelled odd when he was working with it, but humans only seemed to care about how something looked once it was done.

The whole bag? The whole bag?

"Great!" It was not great. That stuff was potent enough to kill several large elephants if someone didn't have the correct drug tolerance for it— something that Angel was one hundred percent sure Husk and Charlie did not have. Those two, along with any other poor sucker who Michael would offer these to would be higher than the Heavens themselves.

He needed to confiscate these things, now.

“Yay!” And with that, Michael popped out what looked like the most normal possibly edible tiny cute packaged bag of cookies one would ever expect. No fire, no damage to the hotel, no screams of the terrified coming from anywhere. It looked like he actually baked a perfectly well done plate of actual cookies. That is, at least, until he opened his mouth.

“You left one of your bags of flour in the kitchen. So I just threw that in there since we didn’t have enough left. I hope you don’t mind. I can pay to replace the flour if you do.”

There were drugs in these cookies.

Flour? Angel doesn't remember using flour or buying any flour recently. He doesn't even bake that often unless it was some sort of big occassion. Even then, Charlie kept the kitchen pantry plenty stocked with the stuff. Why the fuck would he be the one who..

Oh shit. That was certainly not flour that he'd left behind.

“Angel, do you want some cookies?”

His instinct is screaming 'no' to the highest heavens above and the lowest ring in Hell. He has seen carnage. He has seen something far beyond what one would define as divine punishment.

It was in his best interest to not consume whatever concoction the archangel had created, and yet, before his logical mind could catch up to his body..

"Depends on the mood, honestly. Sometimes Val gives me some stuff, other days I'm goin' to dealers and those shitty vendin' machines 'cause I happened t' piss him off."

It's a noncommital shrug from the spider.

@exalted-slaughter

".. Planning to murder me?"

Flitting his eyes upward, he gives the angel a once-over and angles a digitized brow. The man doesn't seem shaken by the question— not in the slightest. Hell, he looks like he's been asked this before, given the flat disintrest that resonates through his tone.

"Fuck this holiday, an' not in the sexy sorta way."

@exalted-slaughter

Curled up into nothing more than a ball of unkempt feathers, she was unresponsive. For a moment, one could almost believe that there was no life to be found within before a muffled voice rings out.

".. Stay."