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michael every time someone from spn calls him lucifer: *bobby hill vc* that’s my purse i don’t know you-

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i think so much..... about how much michael looks like vivienne. and how much he looks like tate. and how much he looks exactly like so many historical portraitures of lucifer-

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I’m not going any further.

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Michael Langdon: Powers

Due to his demonic heritage, Michael displays a variety of powerful supernatural abilities, on a higher level than even the Supreme Witch.

Clairvoyance - The magical ability to read the minds of others and project their thoughts into them. This power is also known as Telepathy.

“Night Vision of the Soul” - The magical ability to “see into the dark places that people try desperately to keep hidden.” He uses this power to sense Gallant’s anger towards his grandmother and reveal to Mallory that he knows she secretly wants to kill Coco. It is likely Michael inherited this ability from his creator, The Devil, who mentioned in Asylum that he simply “know[s] everything”.

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     Water  is  unceremoniously  splashed  onto  his  face,  catching  on  his  eyelashes  and  making  him  sputter  and  scowl.  Besides  his  open  annoyance,  there’s  no  tell-tale  fizzle.  When  he  finally  speaks,  straining  against  the  dual-use  sigil  cuffs  that  hold  his  hands  behind  his  back,  his  response  to  the  treatment  is  childish.

     ‘   You  guys  are  mean-,   ’

@mudwoven,  for  𝖉.  𝖜𝖎𝖓𝖈𝖍𝖊𝖘𝖙𝖊𝖗,   𝖘𝖈.

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     I  know  you.  That’s  what  Michael  thinks,  but  doesn’t  say-  eyes  almost  luminescent  as  they  lock  with  the  younger  (he  knows  by  scent-)  hunter’s.  He’s  not  safe  within  their  vicinity,  their  close  presence  sending  a  skittering  anxiety  down  his  spine,  quelling  cool  against  his  lower  stomach.

     Maybe  he  should  claim  as  much-  I  know  you.  He  doesn’t,  not  really.  It’s  just...  the  smell  of  him-  the  weight  of  his  soul.  ...maybe  he  should  lie.  Are  they  going  to  try  to  kill  him?  Instead  of  speaking,  Michael  merely  watches  from  the  upper  floor,  taking  a  long  moment  to  watch,  measure  and  consider  options.  Questions  like,  ‘Who  are  you?  What  do  you  want?’,  don’t  settle  with  him.  Michael  knows  him-  them.  So,  instead...   ‘   Do  you  know  who  I  am?   ’

@sunsymbols

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michael was not born evil- he was born inhuman, a predator; the myriad of animals and the babysitter he killed as a toddler were instinctual kills that all occurred when michael was too young to have cognitive thought. (additional proof for this is vivien craving raw organs whilst pregnant with him.) as he grows older those instincts mature, turn up only defensively- i.e. 1. the priest constance called to ‘exorcise him’ or w/e (“his words hurt my ears-,”), 2. he kills the butcher when he’s nasty to miriam, his only parental figure post constance kicking him out, and then we can’t forget 3., the cop interrogating michael was beating him and michael pled for him to stop before he killed him.

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𝑷𝑬𝑹𝑴. 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐂𝐀𝐋𝐋! 🔪🥀

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How did you end up in here? I was defending someone.

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mm thinking about how michael’s big brat energy™ w men.... while being a big ol’ simp when women-

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Atsushi Sakurai interview (1993) 🖤

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???​:

“  …  father?  ”  he  was  supposed  to  be  dead.  HE  WAS  SUPPOSED  TO  BE  DEAD!  couldn’t  see  him…  and  yet,  he  sensed  it.  familiar,  and  just  as  terrifying  as  ever,  waves  of  power  coming  off  somewhere  nearby.  something  twisted,  and…  wrong,  remnants  of  lucifer’s  grace.  but  he  was  gone,  he  was…  dean  killed  him.  c’mon  kid,  you  killed  his  vessel  yourself!  so    ——–    so  what?  he’d  picked  up  a  new  one??  escaped  back  to  their  world?  DIDN’T  MATTER.  DIDN’T  CARE.  he  had  to  end  it.  “  no.  no…  ”  a  careful  step  back,  as  hand  lifted,  mustered  all  the  energy  inside  of  him.  and  then,  allowed  it  to  explode,  a  powerful  blast  of  celestial  energy  hurtling  towards  the  other.  not  again.  never  again.  “  NO!  ”

STARTER  CALL  |  @apocylips​

     -father?  A  useless  word  he  himself  had  pled  to  the  skies.  His  usually  lax  pose  gives  pause,  straightening,  tensing  and  disappearing-  though  not  silently,  not  subtlety.  Black  birds  rush  the  other  boy  and  when  they  clear,  Michael  is  standing  before  him.  Bold  of  him,  considering  how  he’d  felt  a  singe  somewhere  within  him  from  the  other’s  outburst.

     It  isn’t  that  he  isn’t  wary-  because  he  is.  But  there’s  something  about  the  other.  He’s  familiar  in  the  sense  his  twin  had  been  familiar  (some  ghostly  sprig  of  similar-)  right  before  he’d  gobbled  him  up;  an  inadvertent  killer  from  the  start.  Father.  He’d  called  him...  Michael’s  face,  previously  broadcasting  brimming  interest  drops  and  turns  to  cold  confusion.   ‘   No-  what?   ’   The  other  boy  is  so  bright.  He  radiates  a  warmth  that  sets  Michael’s  teeth  on  edge  and  makes  him  feel  oddly  remorseful.

     ‘   I’m  your  age-  can’t  you  tell?  I  can-,   ’

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Michael: whY won’t you let me be the supreme?!

Cordelia: