#oh michael is an angel

[fandomestuff]

[mobius-m-mobius]

#same energy but he loves it 😅🥰

[katherinehoughtoncastle47]

[mizgnomer]

Describing Crowley and Aziraphale's relationship

Bonus: Crowley and Aziraphale describing their relationship

[gummy-axolotl]

It's finished!

Pls reblog 💜

@kovox @actuallynickels

[anime-lover-mooncake]

Wanted to draw everyone admiring Lucifer's new wings in "What Time Is It?"

[skullfragments]

i see your "thousand eyes and wings" biblically accurate aziraphale and raise you "biblically accurate according to weird ass medieval illuminations" aziraphale (& bonus crowley)

inspired by this illuminated manuscript page depicting the story of adam and eve:

(i'm pretty sure tumblr fucked the quality on these do please click for full size😭)

[ashtonsunshine]

hehe

via Michael's instagram. 1st May 2024

[sinclairdoll]

Imagine being an angel who fell in love with Baldwin.

(I've written something, but i will not write anything more, so if anyone is interesting, just go)

Baldwin was inside his chambers when a bright light appeared for him. He tried to protect his eyes with his hands, but the white light was too bright. When the King finally opened his eyes, he was confused, more than anything, confused to see that feminine looking being with 6 wings and a white dress covering her body. Baldwin watched as you tried to walk but fell on the floor. Even against all his logic, he came to help you stand up. As fragile as he was, he still helped you stand. 

“Who are you” He asked, mesmerized by your angelic beauty.

“I am… One of the guardians of benevolence… An angel, an servant of the Father."

“But… That can't be” Even with your wings on display for him to see you, it was still unbelievable. 

You waved your wings, looking at him with a frown. 

“I am who i am. If you don't believe me, that is a shame, Baldwin.” 

[cherubchoirs]

Michael, the Ruined Prince

Michael, having used all of his power to seek out God, had failed as the Prince of Heaven. He had abandoned his people, absent for centuries on a fruitless search filled with unheard, increasingly desperate prayers and an unrelenting, bone-deep exhaustion that is now permanent. His grief grew day by day, and an angel in isolation begins to wither, to warp – they must be with one another lest they twist into their extremes, retreating into their divine purpose until it becomes self-destructive parody. And Michael had already been scarred long ago by his role in banishing Lucifer, by God’s own ever-mounting wrath that ate away at the mercy he was meant to feel alongside it. Michael had already been insular, something had already pulled at the seams of his soul, and now centuries of failure consume him. He would return to Heaven with nothing for his people. Nothing for the siblings he swore to protect.

So his final thought in a deeply troubled mind urged him to try one last time. That if he could not find God, then he must bring God to himself. He must sin, he must beg for punishment, and then God will come to deliver it onto him. Just as He once did to Lucifer. It disgusted him, to think he had to debase himself to be as the sinners he held nothing but vile contempt for ever since he couldn’t cope with the guilt of the first fallen angels. But his prayers have failed, his days of weeping have failed, he moved Heaven, Earth, and all of Hell to come up with empty hands. Less than that. Not even a feeling. So Michael, even as a Cherub who could not, did everything he could to replicate his memories of when he had witnessed God Himself tear the light from His angels. Michael had seen it every time, it was he that had to bind any fallen angel that survived it to their place in Hell. He knew, implicitly, what the ritual was even if God seemed to enact it in one beautiful, elegant motion. And he did just that. Imperfect pantomiming, flawed execution, but the same ritual as best as Michael could copy it. All to himself.

But only God and the high Seraphim can sever an angel from their light.

His soul was rent from his body. His light was torn to shreds by his inexperienced hands. The agony that it screeched resounded all the way back to Heaven in unintelligible, muted whispers of nauseous grief no one could understand. Michael felt himself die, but it was incomplete. He was left in a corpse, a body destroyed and succumbing to all it meant but with him still inside of it. God did not come, and Michael was trapped a ruined body, bereft of a soul, of his light, giving way to rot and deterioration yet fully functional. He could do nothing but take this as a sign from God, one that he will not be punished no matter his crime for being such a loyal servant. Even as his body falls apart, as plants begin to burst from his remains, he believes himself to be blessed – see how he grows God’s garden. See how his crown remains pristine. He adorns his exposed bones with gems and finery, ostensibly as thanks to God for keeping him alive, keeping him sinless when he had so despised his impending fall from grace. But. Michael is, in the back of his mind, highly aware of what he’s become. He knows he is rotting, he knows he is in a dead body, he knows, somewhere, God had nothing to do with it. It was just a mistake, it was just his own foolishness with catastrophic consequence. He is more noxious than a fallen angel now, a botch job shambling numbly back to Heaven when he feels the death of Gabriel.

Upon his return, he largely attempts to hide the rot of his body, at least from the citizenry – he cannot hide it from Raphael or Uriel, nor does he try. To Michael, it proves his devotion, it shows God’s still present love for him, and it is a testimony to how he cannot fall, that he can never lose his place in Heaven. Raphael begs for him to be healed, Uriel pleads reason to him, but neither had ever been as strong as Michael and ultimately, he is their leader. No matter the state he returns in, he is the Prince of the Archangels and truthfully...they both fear him now. He is not the Michael they loved, not the one that had been quiet and stoic yet still loving in return. The Michael that would have done anything for them, that never wanted to lose another like he lost Lucifer. He commands them now to join him in binding Gabriel, his tangible grief the only thing that seems to be left of who he had once been.

Internally, Michael sees their fear, he feels the crushing guilt of Gabriel’s fall, he is violently ill with one true look at himself. He had gone wrong a long, long time ago, when he lost Lucifer, and now all of that was being made manifest, but he can’t face it. As flesh falls away, he covers it more and more with jewels as if that could hide the decay he can feel spreading night and day, the only thing he feels now. He must retreat into his purpose, he must not allow such devastating failure to be his legacy. So he turns on Gabriel. Gabriel, whose light had been severed. Who walks freely in an abandoned Hell. Who still has a living, breathing body. Michael’s vitriol toward the damned hones in on Gabriel, consumed with being sure he is left nailed to the lowest pit in Hell for his treachery. All the love he once had turns to hatred and in it, the other three can see that Michael has been left shattered, that nothing in him truly believes God made him this way. God’s most loyal, left to rot.

Additional information:

Michael now always exudes the Odor of Sanctity, but there is a distinct undertone of mold to it

The opalescent webbing that runs through his body is the angelic brain - normally it is iridescent and transparent with a strange glow, but Michael's is opaque and dull

Michael now prefers walking, something noted as unusual when he returned to Heaven, but it's simply due to the fact that his body has been left entirely numb and so it's difficult to maneuver in the air properly

He is very protective of his crown and dragon-skin bag, as they seem to be the only things left uncorrupted on him

[toffiendfee]

They are not very helpful.

[luckkythirt33n]

"Well, yes, and that is why I'm going to have a word with the Almighty, and then the Almighty will fix it."

I asked questions once. I spoke to Her. I wondered and pondered. I used my voice that she gave to me, this mind of mine, the one she cast me out for. Do you not remember? How much trouble can I get into for simply asking a few questions, how much trouble can you get into for asking a few questions. There are no right people, not even you nor even I. Do you not see? Do you not remember?

"That won't happen."

Please tell me you remember.

"You're so clever."

You gave me the same advice once, just tangled up in different words. The warning you gave me amongst the stars. As above so below. I don't want you to fall, not like I did for being so stupid.

"How can somebody as clever as you be so stupid?"

Please don't fall. I am your mirror. I am your words. Please listen to yourself (please listen to me).

[raggedy-spaceman]

S02E03 I Know Where I'm Going

Like father like child ❤

[unseeliefaerie]

Noticed a pattern of Crowley reaching out to Aziraphale and Aziraphale rejecting him and now I'm sad

Bonus (Spoilers for Season 2!)

In the face of all that, Crowley is so brave for this

[dailyfigures]

everyone reblog/reply with your favourite figure you got in 2023! <3

[luyo-mi]

My take on the infamous Michael tehe