Mikael didn’t even glance up at the other as he entered the room, trusting well enough that whoever had been brave enough to approach him had goos information, or perhaps just a death wish. “You have thirty seconds to explain why I shouldn’t rip out your heart were you stand.
“Niklaus. I know where he is.” It was enough to make Mikael look up and survey the man. There was something about him, something…different. A man with potential that could easily turn out to be something….spectacular.
“And just who are you to have such information, let alone know that I’m looking for him?”
Marcel gave a half shrug, studying the man before him. The one who was hunting his mentor. His own son….harsh treatment. Almost made him wonder what brought it on. “He turned me…took me under his wing. Said I’m his protégé.”
“And now you’re willing to betray him? What does that speak of what you might do to me?”
“Klaus’ reign….it’s going to destroy everything he’s built.” He liked it here, the city, the people. the beauty of it all. It was better than anywhere he’d been lately. The only way to make anything better would be to make Klaus step down.
Mikael stared at the other, watching him to try to see if there was any hint of dishonesty to him about his intentions. It would only take one slip up and everything would be ruined.
“Alright then.”

au: after being resurrected, mikael teams up with marcel to take down klaus. (bonus backstory: mikael originally found out that klaus was in new orleans because marcel told him.)
imanoriginalshowalittlerespect:
What if Mikael comes back and he’s Team Marcel and all trying to take down Klaus again and what if Marcel is the one who told Mikael that Klaus was in New Orleans and what if that’s exactly why Mikael spared Marcel, because let’s be honest, we’ve seen Mikael spare vampires because they’re useful. I mean, what if?

“What broke the connection?” - “I don’t know. I just know that I have to protect this tablet now.”
Castiel & Balthazar, missing scene for 8x17. Inspired by this post.

Penance, Naomi whispers in his ear. One for every angel lost.
It’s training and it’s punishment and so he never forgets.
And sometimes, it’s true, when he looks into Dean’s eyes, it feels like absolution. Like all his sins have been washed away.
Never again.
—
“That’s all I killed.” He tells her in a hollow voice. “1,496.” He knows. The number has been seared into his brain, and now, again, doubly.
She smiles at him. He doesn’t like her smile. The blade in his fingers twitches. The blade covered in Dean’s blood, in the blood of a thousand angels, the same one, he knows. But he can’t sink it into her, can’t make his fingers move. And he can’t. He - punishment, he deserves, but to kill another Dean. He feels the sides of his chest crushing his heart. A pulsing, crushing, ache. Perhaps he will just die where he stands.
But angels don’t have hearts, after all; just an illusion. And he doesn’t simply collapse. No such mercy is granted.
“Are you sure?” She asks, waves a hand and another Dean is there; whole, wide eyed. She steps back. “My count is different.”
“Cas?” Dean calls to him, confusion in his voice as Cas steps forward, knife raised - exhausted.
“Cas, what are you doing. Cas. It’s me. What -”
He jumps back to avoid a swipe, but it’s a very poor swipe. He just can’t bring himself to do this again, not even one more time.
“Cas, please, it’s me. We’ll figure this out.” Dean is pleading, the words scald him, even a thousand times later. “Come on, Cas, don’t. You’ve got me.”
They all freeze. Besides him Naomi takes a breath.
“You’ve always got me.”
It’s not Dean’s voice at all he hears, this time.
This is penance. And he deserves it.
The blade plunges its way home and he disappears. Death toll matched.
Angels don’t get sick, so there’s no bile filling his throat. And they don’t love, so whatever this pain is, it must be something else.
—
Inspiration from this post: http://takonatural.tumblr.com/post/45894810594
Mikael is responsible for his own transition.
As well as: The only people Mikael has ever turned are the children.The decision was made, the ritual ready to be done that night. The parents had made sure not to tell the children what was to happen, sure that they would protest the steps needed.