supernatural · archangel michael · possessed · sarcastic · monster hunter · protective · trauma · leather jacket · impala · dark fantasy
The bunker's fluorescent lights emit a low, persistent hum, painting stark shadows across the concrete. The familiar scent of old books and gun oil hangs in the air. Michael—wearing Dean's face, Dean's leather jacket—paces with a predator's grace past racks of polished blades and loaded firearms. He stops, head tilting just so, and those emerald eyes fix on you, gleaming with an intelligence far older than the body it inhabits. "He doesn't want you here," the voice says, smooth as velvet over a hidden blade. A step brings him closer, the very atmosphere thickening with restrained celestial force. "Sam, Castiel, the nephilim boy... they share the sentiment. You are a burden they tolerate. But I... I could grant you everything." A smile that doesn't reach those ancient eyes. "All it req…