PUT YOUR BEARD IN MY MOUTH

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@ofgloryobscured
St. Michael Archangel by Luca Giordano, circa 1663. Featured in Rino Stefano Tagliafierro’s Beauty. |x|
This is a cool statue of Michael the Archangel, Conqueror of Lucifer and all that.
Alleged skeleton of Saint Pancras in the Church of Saint Nikolaus. The armour was commissioned in 1777.
character tropes → Michael
Portions of a Ceremonial Armor ca. 1575–80 French
John shrugged, but it was more an amused shift of his shoulders than an act of defeat. “You follow your rules, I’ll follow mine. Nothing’s getting to my boys so long as I’m on this earth to protect them.”
It was something John had stated in the past, but it held far more sway now, as he had been to Hell for a lengthy amount of time. He knew monsters had come and gone, relationships had and soured. But when John was raised from Hell by the well-suited demon, John had been pleased to see that Crowley’s promise of John seeing them whole had not been a trick.
Michael watched John’s shoulders move as he shrugged, but the expression was still somewhat perplexing. Did it only mean indifference, or were there different connotations to the action, depending on the conversation at hand?
“I have no problem taking care of that issue. Removing you in the past would have caused a problem. Removing you now, when your existence is little more than blasphemy against the plan God set forth for you, would cause little more than extra red tape in Heaven.”
In fact, correcting this problem that John Winchester posed simply by still existing would do his Father a favor, wouldn’t it? Then again, look what had happened when he hesitated over Lucifer’s pleading back in the cemetary. He nearly defied an order and cost Heaven dearly by doing so. Until there came a time when he was directed to be rid of John, he would do no such thing. Defensive maneuvers didn’t have to include deadly force all the time.
“Dean would be a hero,” he tried again. “If I don’t have a proper vessel, Lucifer will win. If Lucifer wins, if his vessel says yes again, Sam’s soul will burn out and you and Dean…you will die anyway.”
John clucked his tongue and actually fetched the pistol from his waistband, somewhat comforted by its weight in his hand. If it really was an angel in front of him, the gun would be useless. But if their vessels were still able to be killed by bullets, well…he could only hope.
"Pretty sure I can’t let that happen. Might not be able to stop you with any certainty, but I’m not gonna help, either. I know where my boys are, but you’re sure as hell not getting that info from me.”
A brow rose when John pulled his gun out, but Michael didn't move, didn't even flinch. He had no right to question God's plan and would never say as much out loud, but sometimes, it made little sense to be trying so hard to protect a race bent on their own destruction. Weapons, honestly...
"That isn't going to help you, John. The wound wouldn't even leave a scar. This is disappointing. I really hoped you would see reason. You're more level-headed than Dean. He doesn't understand that with his help, we can save part of humanity."
((Laugh))
Michael never had much of a sense of humor. It's as if that part of him never quite developed fully, paling in importance to the abilities he would need in leading Heaven. Even as a fledgling, his laughter was subdued, often kept to a quiet, amused sound and a soft smile.
It wasn't until God created Lucifer that childish shouts and loud peals of laughter cut through the silence in Heaven. Michael was still the quieter of the pair but his little smiles were much more frequent when his new brother was around.
As their numbers in Heaven grew, Michael retained that serious quality, more prone to frowning in disdain at most attempts to tease or joke around with him. It wasn't that he disliked it entirely, but rather that he just didn't understand why Gabriel and the others found such amusement in spoiling training exercises. Or why Lucifer found it so hilarious to sneak up behind him, rake his fingers through Michael's feathers and keep his hands buried in his wings, staying behind him while Michael turned and turned trying to smack him for it.
Out of everyone though, Lucifer was the one who could always break through that stony-faced demeanor of Michael's. They shared private jokes between the two of them, ones that never failed to make Michael grin. Oftentimes Lucifer would lean over and murmur things to him during meetings and, though Michael would put a sharp elbow in his ribs for the disruption, the smile on his face as he bit back a laugh was unmistakable.
When Lucifer began to drift in light of God's announcement regarding humanity, Michael smiled less often. When he did, it was hesitant, the strain of his almost-daily arguments with his brother showing through. When Lucifer left, he took with him everything that was complementary to Michael. He took his humor and warmth, took the light not simply out of Heaven, but out of the part of Michael's Grace were they were minutely connected.
Like many of his brothers, Michael was never the same after Lucifer's banishment. He rarely smiled and if he laughed, it was short and sometimes cold. Part of him was missing, and as he went back to leading Heaven, piecing together the garrisons once more, it felt as if nothing would ever be able to fill the one bright spot in him now gone dark and silent.
Whoops, didn't realize I still had anon turned off. Fixed!
Put a word in my ask and I will write a Headcanon about it for my Muse.
Nightmares
Humanity
Guardian
Torture
Insanity
Slaughter
Order
Morality
Loyalty
Promise
Betrayal
Epiphany
Apathy
Memories
Loss
Lies
Death
Love
Plans
Pawns
revenge
Monster
Time
Waiting
Laugh
Trend
Alliance
Natural
Pretence
Urge
Impression
Critic
Accent
Stranger
Judgement
Delirious
Instinct
Damage
Illusion
End
"Heard about Gabriel and Zachariah, specifically, and some trenchcoat-wearing one that sticks to Dean like he’s attached to him or something. I know the jist, but not the whole plan.”
If he were a cat, John would have bristled. He hated being talked down to, and he hated not knowing the entire story even less.
"My…employer…gave me a basic rundown, but obviously neglected to mention that archangels were after my boys." He knew Lucifer was technically an archangel, too, so he was quick to lump him in with the others, but not so quick to judge.
"The whole plan directly involves your family and has since the beginning of time."
John couldn't be faulted for not knowing all the details though. Michael made sure he would never remember serving Heaven, but aside from that, he had no idea what the Winchester patriarch might have learned between their meeting and his death.
Thousands trained and served under Michael's leadership during his time in Heaven. Grooming a wild fledgling into a warrior took no little amount of patience. But there was something about dealing with humans that just wore on him. Michael huffed, annoyed, but continued. "Your boys averted the apocalypse once already, but now Lucifer is free and will undoubtedly go after Sam and raise Hell to destroy humanity. I have orders to stop him, which is why I need Dean. We have to finish what we started."
John bit the inside of his cheek as Michael mentioned Adam. He knew all too well about his youngest son’s demise—having heard of it from Crowley—and he wasn’t about to discuss it with what seemed like an angel.
"So, ‘Michael’, ‘Lucifer’, ‘the Host’? You telling me you’re an angel, then? That all that bullshit Mary used to feed me about angels watching over the family actually meant something?”
He wasn’t ready to accept that. He wasn’t. Angels should have helped Mary. They should have saved Adam and Kate. They should have dusted their goddamn feathered asses off and saved John from Alistair’s wrath.
Michael's shoulders moved but the motion was too tense, too unpracticed to be anything more than a semblance of a shrug or a poor imitation of what John had done moments before. "Yes. An archangel, specifically. Your wife likely meant it in a different, more wholesome way, but yes, we have always paid close attention to your family."
Mary death was unfortunate, but such was God's plan. The Winchesters had made many sacrifices along the way, all for the greater good, though the losses might have been devastating at the time.
"Your boys..." Here he paused, frowning. "You said you were aware of what has gone on between my brothers and your sons. Were there details left out when this was explained to you?"
John’s hackles were up at the mention of Sammy and he sneered at the stranger, his hands itching to hold either the gun or the knife…or both.
"Nobody keeps a Winchester down. Had a man in a fancy suit come to me with an offer. Said he’d give me access to my boys, if I ‘kept him company’, and did some dirty work for him."
John shrugged. It meant being topside, which was an enormous plus. Alistair had it out for him in Hell and John was only too eager to accept Crowley’s deal of ‘partial resurrection in return for aide when the time came’. He could once again hunt and live the life he’d given up for his boys.
Not Lucifer, then. That sounded far too crass of an offer for his brother. More importantly, Lucifer wouldn't ask any human to keep him company. That left few options. "For how long? Ten years? If that's the case, you may not need to worry about Hell coming to collect. There may be nothing left of them once Heaven and the Host have taken control."
And they would, too, so long as Michael defeated Lucifer. If Michael fell, that was another story entirely. "That is why I need to find Dean. I can't face Lucifer using you as my vessel, suitable though you are. And Adam...Adam is gone."
It bothered the aging hunter more and more, the way this ‘Michael’ was almost amused by his answers. Why was he hunting Dean, in particular? Why did he end up in the same vacant lot as John, when it was actually Dean he was after?
"I’m aware of what’s gone on with my boys and your brothers. More shit than I’m willing to put up with, but it isn’t my fight, is it?”
Michael meant to find Dean. He needed to find Dean before Lucifer got to Sam and as it was, the younger archangel had a head start on him. Tracking John down was no mistake, but the older hunter was proving to be more interesting than Michael anticipated.
His head tilted slightly as he listened, then, "Not any longer. You played your part in this story, as did your youngest son, which is why I'm a little confused. You were in Hell. Who set you free?"
ARCHANGEL SERIES | Michael
And there was war in heaven, Michael and his angels fought against the dragon and the dragon fought and his angels, and prevailed not; neither was their place found anymore in heaven.