#michael convos

[heartcndsoul]

@seraphichearts (Castiel & Michael)

Michael had been expecting to run into family members, his little slice of paradise would inevitable draw familiar faces.  He was no fool after all, Castiel.  Another rebellious angel, one in his hay day he probably would have been assigned to track down and kill or at the very least bring back into the fold.  Now, Michael himself was a runaway.  Disillusioned to heaven, God and his siblings who he once fought so hard to protect.

They all abandoned him, they all forgot about him so why should he not return the favor.  If gods most favored son could do it, and his most loved creations could.  Why couldn’t Michael turn his back and finally have some peace.  Seeing Castiel, in his horrid shape.  His wings crumbled and broken; a sight angels should never experience.  His halo, could have been a rusty rim from a car for all he knew.  “If you are here for the clinic we are closed for the day, i’m sorry.” He called out simply, locking up the gates. Ignore, pretend, you’ve done it before Michael.  You can do it again.  

[heartcndsoul]

@d-winchestcr (Michael & Dean)

Dean Winchester.  The latest in a long bloodline, but the only one who was a perfect one hundred percent match.  For him, even the vessel he was wearing now would eventually wear out.  Though Michael didn’t want to think of that, it would make it even harder to contain his lie, if he had to swap meat suits like they were a run down sweater of Lucifer’s.  He had almost forgot the thought of both Winchesters.  His own pain replaced with thoughts of the others, his brothers and sisters, the ones he fought for, the ones he lived for and the one who left him to rot like he was no better then Lucifer.  

God himself turning their back on them both, his favored son and his favorite warrior and Michael was never both.  He could never live up to Lucifer, he could never be better then Lucifer no matter how hard he followed every command.  

Dean was so much like him, the elder brother who somehow lived in their youngers shadow.  No matter how hard they tried to prove their worth.  “Are you in need of medical assistance sir?” He questioned curiously, a sigh escaping his lips as his eyes noted a confusing amount of grace echoing with him, an effect that wouldn’t appear unless an angel rode around in his suit for awhile.  

No less an Archangel, and he’d recognize his own grace- the at least alternate form of his grace.  So the mighty Dean Winchester, who said no to him until he was blue in the face--- said yes to some alternate copy of him.

Well isn’t that sweet.