#michael langdon fanfiction

[delicateflowerss]

Dark Paradise

You try to adjust to a new life, married and living in a manor. But you quickly realize that not everything is what it seems, including your mysterious and devilishly handsome husband, Michael Langdon.

Warnings: 18+, DUB-CON, violence, murder, demon!Michael, blood kink, pain kink, breeding kink, dacryphilia

Word Count: 4.2k

You’re not sure if you’ll ever get used to the dark corridors where shadows dance in your periphery, or the damp smell that makes you feel like you’re underground. It smells of rotting fruit, a slow and lingering decay, almost like death surrounds you.

As long as it doesn’t reach you.

You’re also not sure if you’ll ever get used to the man that haunts these grounds. This tall, dark manor that sits in the middle of nowhere.

He’s not dead, he’s just your husband.

His appearances to you are scarce, only really seeing him at mealtimes and occasionally passing him in hallways.

He’s elusive, mysterious to you in ways you cannot comprehend. Ever since you arrived at the manor, all you’ve had are questions.

For an unknown reason, you can’t remember your life before this place. All you know is you were married off to a man named Michael Langdon.

Sometimes, you have the strangest dreams with a house that feels like the complete opposite of here. One filled with love and light and white walls, and not this frigidness that wraps around you now.

The days almost feel like they go on forever, blending together as nothing surprising happens.

Until one night, you’re pulled out of a peaceful slumber by a piercing scream.

It takes you a moment to blink away the sleep, wondering if it was real or part of a dream.

It doesn’t take long before another one echoes throughout the manor. It’s shrill, a seemingly female scream.

You clutch the soft sheets under you, your heartbeat loud in your ears.

You think about whether you should lie back down, ignoring it and going back to sleep. But you don’t think you could even if you wanted to.

Perhaps against your better judgement, you leave your bedroom, with only a candle lighting your path through the dark hallways.

Your white nightgown sways as you step between walls covered in paintings. The dim candlelight casts shadows on the faces, giving them a particularly ghoulish look.

You keep walking, hoping to find some sort of sign of what it is that woke you up. You’re not even sure where the scream exactly came from.

Before you can reach Michael’s room, a chill sweeps past you, extinguishing your candle, leaving you shivering in the dark.

A disembodied voice calls out your name in the form of a question.

“What are you doing out of your room?” he asks.

You instantly recognize the voice, and it stops you in your tracks. You swallow as he steps closer to you. Michael is holding a candle, illuminating the glare on his face.

“I thought I heard something. It woke me up,” you say nervously.

“I didn’t hear anything,” he replies, his brow furrowing.

“It sounded like a scream. I thought someone might have gotten hurt.”

“Are you sure you didn’t just have a nightmare?” he asks in an almost mocking manner, a cruel smirk growing on his lips.

“No-.” You sigh, stopping yourself. “No,” you say again, this time quieter.

“Come on. I’ll tuck you in and look under your bed for monsters,” he says, trying to step past you with a teasing grin on his face.

“I know what I heard, Michael.”

He stops, mere inches from your face and he can see the seriousness that settles in your eyes.

It doesn’t stop his own icy blue eyes from growing colder.

His gaze rakes over you before he leans in closer, warm breath fanning over your lips as he says, “you didn’t hear anything, Y/N. Time to go back to bed.”

You think your own breathing has stopped before he leaves you, going back to his bedroom.

That’s when your goosebumps return, Michael taking all warmth with him.

You’ve sat in the library all day, reading by the window as rain hits the glass. You decided that you’ll read every book in this place since you don’t have much else to do. You’re on 28 out of 11,200. Thunder rumbles above you as you turn the page.

Nothing has happened since you heard the scream, helping you to believe that it was either a dream or your sleep-addled imagination. You tried asking your handmaid if she heard anything that night, but she said no, giving you a strange look like you might be going mad.

You quickly shut up about it.

Michael hasn’t brought it up, which you’re somewhat grateful for because if he did, it would probably be to make fun of you some more.

Even if he has been polite enough about it, it’s been difficult to be around him. He’s always had an intense gaze but something about it has changed. It lingers for too long.

You think that’s always been the case. But now you react differently, a heat growing in your cheeks and a fire igniting in the pit of your stomach.

“Are you hiding from me for a reason?”

You practically jump, startled by the deep voice near your ear.

You close your book and look over your shoulder, finding Michael standing behind you. Amusement lights up his face and his hands are clasped together behind him.

“Do you normally spend your time in here?” he asks, eyes scanning the room, finding books from floor to ceiling and a fire raging, keeping you warm.

“Sometimes.”

You stare at him, still confused as to why he’s bothering you. Shouldn’t he be busy with something?

“So why do you seem to be in here more than you used to be?”

He steps over to the chair you’re sitting in, wood creaking underneath him. He looks over your shoulder, reading the title of your leatherbound book.

You swallow, able to smell the rich scent he wears. It’s musky with a dash of sweetness, like a piece of fruit being harvested from the earth.

“Just reading more, I guess,” you finally answer his question.

“Hm, well I wanted to apologize for the other night.” He pauses, like it’s hard to get the words out. “You were obviously shaken, and I could’ve been nicer.”

Even if his apology could be more genuine, at least it’s an apology.

“I also want to give you something,” he says before placing something on a side table near you.

You pull your brows together as you take in the gift.

“A pomegranate?” you ask, moving your gaze to him, eyebrows raised.

He picks the piece of fruit back up, mischief dancing in his eyes. In one motion, he cracks the rouge skin open, revealing hundreds of little seeds.

He gathers exactly four seeds in the palm of his hand, setting the rest of the fruit back down.

Without saying anything, he brings his hand closer to you, offering it as if you have no choice but to accept.

You hesitate for a moment before reaching to grab them from the palm of his large hand.

But when your skin brushes against his, a gasp falls from your lips, an image flashing in front of you.

It’s Michael, but he looks different…wearing different clothes than he wears now, almost like a school uniform.

The pomegranate seeds fall to the floor before you look up at him.

There’s a question in his eyes that almost matches yours. But it’s just a flicker of confusion before it disappears, turning into irritation.

He clasps his hands together again before leaning down to you and saying lowly, “if you make a mess, you must clean it up. Remember that.”

You keep your eyes away from him, not able to look at him. You can faintly hear him walk away, but your mind is too focused on the words that seem to have another meaning to them. A meaning that makes heat swirl inside you.

The sun is out today, but just barely. It peeks slightly behind gray clouds. You’ll take it over nothing, deciding it called for a stroll in the garden.

Except, as you look around, you realize there isn’t much of a garden. The flowers seem to be withering away, drooping without life and leaves almost crumbling to dust.

It must be the lack of sunshine, you think as you frown.

It’s so hard to find beauty in a place like this, instead only finding death and tragedy.

Without intending to, your mind wanders to a certain someone. You suppose not all beauty is lost.

You still have been avoiding Michael to the best of your abilities, still unsure what happened that day in the library.

You’re also unsure of your growing feelings for him. He is your husband, but it’s also true you two never consummated the marriage.

He never wanted to, and at first, you were grateful. But now, as you think of his golden curls and sharp jawline that could have been crafted by the gods themselves, you wonder if it would help ease the tension between you. Maybe it’s what you need to do in order to have a normal conversation with him.

But nothing about him is normal. He might be beautiful, but you can’t ignore the darkness that lies in his eyes and makes up his entire being.

You stop, finding a faded yellow flower sprouting from the ground. You bend down, pulling it up. Standing up, you stare at it in your hand, and you can’t help but wish it was alive.

You sigh, eyes closing, almost in defeat. But when you open them, you can’t believe what you see.

The flower is now a bright yellow, looking like it belongs in a vase full of fresh-cut daffodils.

It’s like the flower was resuscitated right between your fingers, finally getting the oxygen it so desperately needed.

There is no way you did this, so how is this possible?

Dinner is mostly eaten in silence. Some small talk is exchanged but you can tell Michael can barely bare it, gritting his teeth as you ask him how his day was.

Michael enjoys more intellectually stimulating conversation. It just so happens that usually means arguing with you or teasing you about something. So, you’re not very fond of it.

Once the plates are taken away, you think you can finally breathe, ready to take your leave to your room.

Just as you’re getting up, Michael stops you.

“Sit down. You haven’t had your dessert yet.”

“Dessert? We only have that on special occasions,” you retort, sitting back down.

“Well, you didn’t get to finish it the other day.”

You part your lips to question him again, but it’s answered when a maid places a plate in front of you.

A pomegranate split in half sits before you.

Michael seems to be waiting for your reaction when you lock eyes with him.

“What is with you and pomegranates?”

“They’re in season. I just want you try it.”

He leans back in his chair, giving a smile that doesn’t exactly reach his eyes. Instead, you find a glint there instead.

You nervously look down at the fruit, mulling over what he wants you to do.

You blink and you suddenly see that the red fruit has turned into a human heart, bloody and still beating.

You gasp, eyes widening as you push back your chair.

You look back to Michael, wondering if he sees it too. You’re met with a cold stare, his finger impatiently tapping on the table.

You frown, your eyes going back to the plate only to find the pomegranate.

Tears spring to your eyes as you consider the real fact that you’re losing your mind.

You don’t notice Michael getting up to stand next to you, your broken mind too caught up with all the peculiar things happening in the last couple of weeks.

He gently puts his hand on your shoulder, taking you out of the torment you’re putting yourself through.

By the time you turn to look at him, he has a few pomegranate seeds on his fingertips. You can smell the sweetness as he brings them closer to your lips.

“Don’t think about it. Just eat them,” he says as two of his fingers move past your lips and into your mouth.

You hum lowly in your throat as you taste how delicious they are, lips clasping tighter around Michael’s fingers, your tongue swirling around them.

He breaks the seal, removing his fingers before you swallow. He watches your throat move up and down, taking his offering.

You don’t miss the satisfied smirk on his plump lips.

It’s a night of tossing and turning. You’re able to sleep but it’s restless. Thoughts of Michael still lingering hours after he fed you the pomegranate.

When you’re finally able to sleep for more than an hour, you’re woken up by a scream similar to the one that woke you up weeks ago.

You know you heard it. It’s not in your imagination. No matter what Michael wants you to believe.

You don’t even think about it as you leave your bed, practically storming down the hall, deciding to leave behind a lit candle for light.

You pass Michael’s bedroom, getting closer to the faint sounds of cries and screams.

At the end of the hallway lies a singular door painted blood red.

You’ve never dared to go through it because when you arrived at the manor, you were told it is off limits.

Every time you would look at it, the hairs on your neck would stand up, giving you reason enough to never investigate it.

But now, you know you have to, tired of not knowing the truth.

When you step through the doorway, the air feels heavy, like all the light has been sucked out, only leaving a darkness that sits on your chest, making sure you cannot take a breath.

It’s pitch black, stairs going down to seemingly nowhere or possibly the pits of Hell. So, it’s either idiotic or suicidal why you decide to go down them.

Once you go down the stairs, a sweltering heat is the first thing you feel, like fire blistering your skin. It’s so bright down at the bottom of the stairs that it reflects in the irises of your eyes.

Hundreds of candles are lit with a few fires alongside them. The walls seem to be made of the earth, like a cave.

You don’t exactly understand what is going on, crouched at the bottom of the stairs spotting Michael walking toward a man sitting on the ground.

Cries and screams of “no” fall from the man as Michael brings a small knife to the man’s throat.

He slices it open, like a bleeding smile, his cries ceasing.

A sadistic smirk paints Michael’s lips, a satisfied one that is so similar to the one he had when he fed you the pomegranate seeds.

That’s when you notice everyone else. Bodies littered around the room, both alive and dead. Blood seeping from their various wounds. The ones who are alive seem to be chained to the floor or the walls, like they’re being tortured.

You can’t help the strangled cry that leaves your mouth, your stomach churning, thinking of the horror that the man you’re married to has been enacting.

You catch yourself, slapping a hand over your mouth. But it’s too late. He heard you.

Michael meets your gaze, and it only takes you a split second to get up and run back up the stairs.

You rush through the house, finding the front doors that keep you trapped inside this prison from the rest of the world.

You fling them open, running barefoot past the garden into the trees that border the manor.

Except just when you think you’re getting somewhere, you’re entering another door, one that goes right back inside the manor.

You look around with bewilderment, your mind racing to try and figure out what is going on. But you just end up hitting a brick wall, wanting to collapse into tears while nothing makes sense. You feel like the floor is moving, like your world has been tilted.

“Don’t cry, little witch.”

You turn to find Michael at the top of the main staircase, looking at you with a sort of curiosity and feigned sympathy.

“What?” you ask, voice cracking.

He continues down the stairs, stepping closer to you.

“Stay away from me,” you yell, voice still thick with tears. “I’m getting out of here.”

“You can try as long as you want to get away. But you’ll always end up back here.”

His looming figure is blurry as you blink away the tears.

You let him get closer, his thumb wiping your tear-stained cheeks.

“You poor thing.” You hear him mutter like you’re some naïve little lamb that needs to be protected.

“You’re stuck here,” he explains. “Those seeds you ate bound you here forever. With me, little witch,” he adds with a grumbling chuckle.

“Why do you keep calling me that?”

“You don’t remember,” he observes, tilting his head at you, like you’re his science experiment.

He thinks for a moment before continuing, “I suppose it would be better if you remembered. Then we really can have fun.”

Before you can protest or say anything, everything goes black.

Certain details are still fuzzy when you regain consciousness, but you remember it all.

You were a powerful witch in a coven. You remember your sisters and your Supreme, Cordelia.

You also remember him.

Cordelia made a deal. She knew who Michael really was, so she did anything she could to send him away, lock him up within the gates of Hell.

She had to make a sacrifice, and it just so happened to be you.

She came up with a loophole for you. The problem is that you couldn’t remember what it was when you arrived here.

You look around at your surroundings for the first time, finding yourself inside a circle of lit candles.

You try to move outside of the confines of the circle, but it’s like an invisible barrier is up.

You lie back down in defeat.

There is no fighting him or getting out. You ate the seeds of the pomegranate.

If enough time had passed without you eating them, you could’ve gotten away from here like Cordelia wanted.

Now you’ve sealed your fate. You’ve been promised to The Beast.

It’s not long before a door creaks open. The man you’ll be forced to spend eternity with, walks through the door.

“I imagine that was an enlightening nap,” he says, fighting off a mocking grin.

You swallow, keeping your eyes anywhere but on him.

“I was right that it would be better if you remember. I can feel the hatred coming off you. I like that more than indifference.”

He pauses, his eyes raking over your body, like he’s hungry and you’re his next meal.

“Of course, other feelings haven’t changed. You know, it was so hard not to say anything that day in the library when I could smell how wet you were.”

You finally turn to look at him, eyes widening at his casual vulgarity.

“Or any of the other times you were clenching your thighs together. And all because of me,” he adds, eyes full of mirth.

“You’re lying,” you argue, but you can’t deny how warm your cheeks are getting.

“Am I?” he challenges. “It really wouldn’t matter. You’re mine to do as I please with.”

You try to hide the waves of heat you feel, but you can’t successfully hide anything from him.

“What would your Supreme think if she knew how easily you gave into me? If she knew how much of a whore, you are?”

He walks around you in circles like you’re prey that he’s just playing with until he’s ready to feast.

It’s dizzying.

“Maybe I couldn’t stop Cordelia from trapping me here, but I knew I wasn’t going to let you go. Her silly plan with the pomegranates,” he laughs. “I was going to pull you down to the depths of Hell with me. Which is where you’ll be for the rest of eternity.”

You shake your head, wanting him to stop taunting you.

“You’re a monster, Michael,” you harshly say. “I’m sure you feel more at home here.”

He just gives you a humorless laugh, something cruel settling in his eyes.

“Cordelia doesn’t care about you. Her hatred for me outweighed whatever love she had for you. She’s probably forgotten all about you.”

You try to pretend that his words don’t claw at your chest.

“But if I’m going to have my little witch by my side,” he continues. “She can’t be an insolent one.”

You instantly regret hurling any insults at him.

“I think it’s time you learn how things are going to work around here.”

He steps inside the circle, barely giving you time to move out of his way.

“On your knees. Now,” he says, his voice sounding gravelly.

You scramble to kneel at his second command.

“Tell me, little witch. Who’s your God?”

You look up at him, confusion in your eyes.

“What?”

The palm of his hand meets your cheek, moving your head to the side. A slight sting burns your skin.

“Let’s try that again. Who is your God?”

You just shake your head, trying not to let the tears fall from your eyes.

His palm slaps your other cheek, the same biting feeling spreading through your face.

“We can keep doing this until you get it right.”

At least when Michael walked the earth, he had many people to subject his torture too. Now, he just has you. And any other sorry soul that might cross his path, you think. The image of crimson pouring from that man’s neck is still burned into your mind.

“You, Michael. You’re my God,” you defeatedly say.

“And how should you worship your God?”

You catch his gaze, unsure how to answer.

All he does is move his hand to undo his pants, unzipping them until you get what he means.

Your eyelashes flutter as you move your face closer to his cock.

He’s already hard, so you give a small lick to his tip, tasting the salty evidence of his arousal.

He watches you start to put his cock into your mouth and down your throat.

A groan falls from his lips as you begin to fuck him with your throat, spit spilling out of your mouth as you choke on his size.

He puts a hand to the back of your head, helping you to take almost all of him. You can feel your own arousal coating your inner thighs.

“I knew you were good for something,” he says as you gag a little.

He surprises you by pulling you off him, letting you fall onto your ass while your drool hits your chin.

He’s quick to grab you, pinning you to the floor as he puts his weight on top of you.

“I want you to feel me cum inside you.”

He doesn’t waste any time before he rips your white nightgown off you, seeing your naked body for the first time.

His own clothes come off and you hate that even if you know how much of a monster he is, all you can think about is him fucking you.

His hands have your wrists underneath them, pushed into the cold hard floor. You can’t move if you wanted to, but you don’t think you would anyway.

All you do is blink, and his face has changed. His skin is paler with cracks running through it, almost like cement. And his eyes have gone black, no light or emotion to be seen, just darkness, an overwhelming evil you’ve never seen or felt before.

It frightens you. His body is colder as he pushes inside you, a growl coming from deep in his throat.

He doesn’t care to wait for you to adjust, he’s rough in his thrusts, setting a pace that already leaves you gasping for air.

“Michael,” you cry out. “It hurts.”

You know you sound pathetic which is almost worse than how full you feel, your cunt stretching to accommodate the size of him.

“Good,” is all he says.

He licks and bites at your breasts, playing with your nipples between his fingers. It’s both pain and pleasure and it drives you insane. You can feel him deep inside you, the tip of his cock hitting that soft spot nestled in you.

You wrap your legs around him, your walls clenching around him.

He kisses your cheeks, wet with tears from the pain you have felt. He just licks it up, finding your pain to be delicious.

His lips drag against your throat, teeth nipping at the delicate skin.

He whispers, “I can’t wait to see you swollen with my baby. Evidence of how you belong to me.”

You can feel your pussy squeeze him at the thought, the coil in your stomach getting tighter and tighter.

He captures your lips in a sloppy kiss as he moves his hand down to rub your aching bundle of nerves.

It’s enough for the coil to snap. It’s only moments later when you feel him twitch inside you, coating your walls with his cum. He bites down on your shoulder, and you cry out in pain as he laps up the blood that seeps from the wound, soothing it with his tongue.

He’s breathless as he collapses on top of you, his skin going back to its usual color.

Your mind isn’t clouded with pleasure anymore, but you bring a hand to the curls on his head anyway.

He moves his head slightly to look at you, a smirk forming on his lips.

“If only Cordelia could see you now.”

#michael langdon #michael langdon x reader #ahs #american horror story #ahs apocalypse #michael langdon fanfiction

[redroses07]

F**k It I Love You /// Michael Langdon

Michael Langdon x Fem!reader

Summary: Reader is a witch, but her and Michael seem to have a special connection. So what happens when her coven has to oversee Michael taking the test of The Seven Wonders. Will she stay loyal to her coven, or herself?

CW: Swearing, Kissing, Alludes to smut, Sexual themes, some violence.

WC: 3.2k

A/N: Hey guys!!! My first full fic after my year long disappearance!!! I really like this and I'm super excited to post it! I'll definitely make a part two if this does good, or upon request. With perhaps smut? Anyways I hope everyone is doing well!! Love y'all and as always, enjoy! ♡⋆˙

You sit in your lonely, over sized room at Miss Robichaux's academy, awaiting this afternoon's daunting task. You and the rest of the witches on the council, including Zoe, Myrtle, and Cordelia, were to visit Hawthorne school for young warlocks.

It was a place where none of the witches, including you, enjoyed visiting. Mostly due to the crude and pompous attitude of the warlocks towards you and your sisters.

It's not your fault that warlocks were naturally inferior to witches. Come to think of it you had never met a warlock who was so much as tolerable. Well...that is until a few months ago.

This particular visit to Hawthorne was something no witch, or warlock for that matter, had ever thought would come to pass.

For the first time ever, the test of the Seven Wonders will be performed on a warlock. A young man named Michael Langdon.

From the beginning Cordelia, your coven's supreme, had refused to perform this test deeming that it would be suicide. That was until Michael brought two witches, Queenie and Madison, back from the dead.

While this changed her mind, it also raised her concerns about Michael.

Cordelia had called a meeting with you and the rest of the council prior to your departure. She had described a darkness in Michael, one she had never seen in someone before. She described his energy as almost inhuman, something otherworldly.

"I am warning you all, proceed with caution." Cordelia had said.

While you smiled and agreed like you had been made to do, you had other thoughts on your mind.

You had connected with Michael from the moment you first met him, and in a way you had never experienced with another. Your fellow witches had been standoffish and dismissive to him, most likely feeling threatened by his power, you didn't feel the need.

He seemed to feel comfortable around you from the beginning. You didn't know if it was because you were the only witch who cared enough to treat him like a human being, or if there were other reasons. Despite that, conversation with Michael came easy, and the more interactions the two of you had the closer you became.

What was originally a simple act of kindness turned into prolonged eye contact and uncontrollable eye contact. The increasingly frequent visits to Hawthorne began to feel less like a punishment and more like a reward.

No matter, your sisters came first, which meant you had to push your growing emotions away.

Under any other circumstance you would be excited to see your friend, but the Seven Wonders weren't just any other event. Especially after Cordelia's warning, so unfortunately today was going to be stressful no matter what.

"Hurry up everyone, time to go!" you heard Cordelia call, annoyance in her voice.

You jumped up, not wanting to anger her further, fixed your hat, and headed down the stairs.

You, Cordelia, Zoe, and Myrtle all gathered in a circle in order to transmutate to Hawthorne collectively. Queenie and Madison also joined you, Madison wearing her iconic scowl.

You stood next to Zoe, your favorite among the council. Not that you disliked the other witches...but Myrtle was a little batty and Cordelia was well...Cordelia.

"Prepare yourselves sisters." Cordelia said softly, a serious look on her face.

Next thing you knew, your group was standing outside the strange structure that was Hawthorne School for Exceptional Young Men.

The six of you walked in, all trailing behind Cordelia.

You passed through the dark corridors, trying to hide the fact that you hoped Michael would appear around the corner.

When you and your magical companions made it to the room where the testing would take place you were greeted by warlock Ariel Augustus.

Out of all the warlocks you despised he was by far the worst, there was just something so off-putting about him. Yet you still shook his hand and gave him a half-hearted smile.

You gave the room a quick glance, looking for Michael.

"And when will Michael be joining us?" You asked Ariel.

"I would like to get this over as quickly as possible" You add, in an effort to seem disinterested.

Ariel looks at you with a sour face before looking over your shoulder towards the door.

"Well, it looks like you've got your wish because here comes the young warlock now." Ariel replies with distaste.

You turn around, and are faced with Michael's golden locks and icy blue eyes. He's wearing his usual, a long black cloak over his school uniform, yet he somehow manages to make the basic outfit look better than ever.

"Hello Michael." You say formally, keeping your serious composure. All while the two of you exchange a playful look, agreeing that these formalities are ridiculous.

Michael greeted you and the two of you drifted off to the far side of the room where you pretended to make small talk.

"God, this is so stressful." Michael says to you, breathing out a frustrated sigh.

Around others Michael had the tendency to put on a show, but never for you. With you, he was free of judgement.

"It'll be okay, just trust your instincts. You've got this." If Cordelia knew you were giving Michael advice you would surely be punished, but she doesn't need to know.

Michael shifted on his feet and looked at the ground, failing at hiding the blush creeping up his pale cheeks.

You almost reached out to give him a hug of reassurance but then remembered the others in the room. If you were being honest with yourself you really did have feelings for him, although reality told you that would never work out.

"Can we all just shut up and get on with this shit." Madison announced with an eye roll.

It was never a dull moment with her around.

"Yes, yes." Myrtle said.

Everyone took a seat as Cordelia began to explain the rules of the seven wonders.

You and Michael stood near each other behind a couch.

You figured since your lower bodies were hidden from the others it would be safe to reach out and squeeze his hand for reassurance.

You slowly put Michael's hand in yours and ran your fingers across his knuckles. His palms were sweaty. You truly believed you were the only one who sympathized with him on this, and you were glad you could give him that.

You and Michael made eye contact and exchanged a look of longing.

You broke the eye contact to look at Zoe who was giving you a look as if to say "stop what you're doing." She knew, of course she knew. Zoe was your best friend, of course she could tell when you liked a boy. Even if the circumstances were far more dire than your average high school romance.

You drop Michael's hand but he reaches back over and pulls it back, signaling "stay"

You sigh, what on earth were you getting yourself into.

"Okay, now if the rules are understood, we may begin." Cordelia announced, while scanning the room.

No one objected, and Ariel motioned for you all to follow him.

You felt the warmth of Michael's hand leaving you, and you were released from your own thoughts. You looked over at him to see him slowly walking towards the exit.

"Come on," Michael called back to you giving you a half-hearted smile.

You hurriedly caught up with him and the rest of the group, although the both of you remained at the end of the pack.

Ariel led you down a series of dark corridors. They all looked the same, and you began to lose count of the amount of turns you had taken.

Good luck getting out of here if you needed to make a break for it, you thought to yourself.

When you finally reached your destination, everyone gathered in the center of the large room. It looked just like every other room at Hawthorne, drab and dungeon-like. The only difference here was that it was larger and relatively empty.

Cordelia stood in the center of the room, a stern expression on her face.

"The first of the seven wonders, Telekinesis." She pointed to Michael, calling for him to join her in the center of the room.

You watched him as he walked towards her. He did almost too good of a job at hiding his nerves, walking with such effortless grace. You were almost envious.

Michael pointed to a candle hanging on the wall along the far side of the room. The candle quickly floated into his grasp.

The warlocks applauded, looking thrilled with his performance.

Telekinesis was the easiest of the seven wonders, and one any basic witch or warlock could easily achieve. So, naturally you and your fellow witches remained unimpressed.

"Next is Concilium, or mind control." Cordelia explained, gesturing for Michael to begin.

Michael also demonstrated this with ease, making Zoe and Madison perform a dance before everyone's eyes.

The next four Seven Wonders, Transmutation, Divination, Pyrokinesis, and Vitalum Vitalus, were all demonstrated by Michael perfectly. Even better than yourself you had to admit, which was odd considering how inexperienced he was.

The further the test progressed, the more concerned the members of your coven looked. You were torn, as you usually were when it came to Michael. Part of you shared your coven's concerns, after all, a male supreme would change the course of all of your lives. The rational part of you did not ever want to see a world where the powers of a warlock surpassed yours. Yet another part of you, the part that cared for Michael, wanted him to succeed despite all other factors.

Although the hardest test of the Seven Wonders, Descensum, had yet to be tested. And you knew Cordelia wouldn't let Michael get off without adding a catch.

"Today, I'm not asking you to perform this wonder...I am asking you to conquer it." Just as you had expected, Cordelia was going to twist the rules.

Cordelia proceeded to ask Michael to retrieve the long lost Misty Day from the underworld, where she was banished after being unable to achieve the seventh wonder.

You glanced over at Michael, who stared Cordelia dead in the eye. You weren't surprised that he looked unfazed, he had in fact done this before when he brought Madison back from the dead.

Despite that, the warlocks were outraged, arguing with Cordelia about the task's unfairness.

"It's okay, I'll do it." Michael said calmly and definitively, shutting everyone up.

You gave Michael a concerned look, which he combated with a soft smile.

Michael laid down on the floor, getting in the position needed for the task. He began reciting the spell, which was a jumble of Latin words.

Michael then fell into a deep trance, signaling that the process of Descensum had begun.

Now all that was left to do was to wait.

You walked to the back of the room and sat in a chair next to Zoe and Queenie. You tapped your foot on the floor nervously, your heel making a repetitive clicking noise.

You waited in silence for about ten minutes, your eyes glued to Michael just in case.

"My god how long is this supposed to take, some people have things to do." Madison huffed, and as if on cue Michael shot up into a sitting position.

You, along with everyone else, rushed forward in anticipation.

"Where's Misty?" Cordelia demanded angrily.

Michael said nothing. He stared blankly at the wall, breathing heavily.

Before you could stop yourself you leaned down to check if he was okay, but just as you placed your hand on his shoulder someone's tight grip pulled you back.

"Watch out!" Zoe yelled, as she yanked you towards her.

You stumbled over your feet, nearly losing your balance. You looked below you and your eyes widened at what you saw.

Misty had seemingly appeared out of nowhere, and right where you had been only moments before.

You were in shock, and apparently so was Cordelia.

She dropped to the ground and pulled Misty into a tight hug, tears falling from her face.

You looked over at Michael, who staggered back towards a table in the corner of the room. He looked exhausted, and you fought the urge to ask him if he was okay.

Your focus shifted when you heard Misty call your name.

The curly haired woman gave you a long teary eyed hug, and you only now realized how much you had missed her. You made a mental note to thank Michael for this reunion later.

"Cordelia!" Queenie yelled, and once again you were forced to shift your attention.

Cordelia was hunched over, blood running down her nose. She looked weak, like she had after seeing Queenie and Madison return.

"What's happening?" Madison shouted.

"What happens every time a new supreme rises, the old one begins to fade." One of the warlocks said proudly.

"You're a pathetic pompous ass!" Myrtle spat, pulling Cordelia close to her.

You followed her example and stepped closer to your supreme, putting your hand on her shoulder in reassurance.

"There is no denying it...Michael is the new supreme." Cordelia huffed before nearly collapsing to the floor.

You gasped, scrambling to help her back to her feet. Once Cordelia was stable again Myrtle and Misty carried her to a private room to help her recover.

"Well...I guess we will reconvene later." Ariel announced to the rooms remaining occupants.

As everyone began to file out of the room you saw Michael head in your direction. You began walking over to meet him when Zoe grabbed onto your arm once more.

She pulled you in the opposite direction and loudly announced, "Can I talk to you for a moment."

Before you had time to object she had pulled you out of the room and down one of the many dark corridors.

"Zoe is everything o-" She cut you off.

"Do you know how dangerous what you're doing is?" Zoe scolded.

Your stomach dropped.

"What do you mean..." you replied, acting clueless.

Zoe sighed in frustration.

'I'm your best friend, you think I don't see how you two look at each other?"

Dammit. Was it that obvious?

"Zoe, I know it's wrong. I know the coven will disapprove. I'm sorry. I'll make it go away, I promise." You sounded defeated.

Zoe pursed her lips. "Listen, I'm not saying you have to stop. I'm just saying be better at hiding it. Cause you know what will happen if Cordelia finds out."

You sighed, she was right. Cordelia would be furious if she knew, especially since she was already so suspicious of Michael. It would likely even be grounds for being burned at the stake.

"I'm just saying be careful is all, but other than that my lips are sealed." Zoe said.

You nodded in agreement and smiled at your friend.

"Be safe." Zoe hugged you quickly before walking off to go check on Cordelia.

You turned on your heel and walked down the hall, a long sigh escaping your lips.

As you turned the corner you felt someone's strong grip pull you down a darkened hall.

"What the hell-"

You looked up to see Michael looming above you.

"Jesus, Michael you scared me." You gasped, hand on your fast beating heart.

"I heard everything, everything Zoe said to you." Michael said, his piercing blue eyes burning into yours.

Your heart dropped into the pit of your stomach.

"Michael. She's right you know. I mean my coven hates you, what would they think?" You explained.

"Shhhh.." Michael whispered as he brought his index finger to your lips.

"I don't care, what we have is more important."

"Don't you agree?"

Michael took your hands in his and brought them to his chest. He looked at you in a pleading, almost desperate way.

"Michael, I-" You said unsure of your actions. You knew the consequences of betraying your coven, but were you ready to embrace them? you didn't know.

"Please..." Michael stammered.

You felt his hot breath against your already warm skin. The strong scent of his cologne filled your nostrils. everything about him was irresistible, it was all just too much.

"I can't wait any longer. I need this, I need you." Michael said.

That was it for you.

"Oh just fuck it." You said before pressing your lips harshly to his.

You pulled Michael down by the front of his shirt to better adjust to his height.

The kiss was short lived, but that didn't stop you from wanting more.

Thankfully Michael felt the same because he reached for the nearest door and opened it, pulling you inside.

He kissed you sloppily and hungrily as he yanked you through the doorway. He slammed the door behind you while continuing to kiss you.

"Is this a closet?" You asked, looking around at the small space.

"I believe so..." Michael replied, smiling at you.

You laughed and kissed him again.

Michael pushed you into the corner while kissing you slowly. He bit down on your lip, drawing a significant amount of blood. You let out a soft moan as Michael sucked at the small wound.

Michael broke the kiss and gazed at you lovingly.

"God you're so beautiful."

You smiled, trying to hide your flustered reaction. He made your heart do back flips.

Michael kissed you on the cheek, then your lips again.

"Everyone's probably looking for me, I can't be gone too long. After all I am the supreme now." Michael said with a smirk.

"Just a few more minutes please." You whined, pulling him into you.

'Well, I guess I can make time for you." Michael kissed you harshly as if this was the last chance he'd ever get to.

His hand snaked down your back and stopped to tightly wrap around your waist. You couldn't hear anything except heavy breathing from the both of you.

You reached up, lacing your fingers through Michael's hair. You pulled at the long blonde locks.

Michael put his hands under your thighs and hoisted you up around his waist. This gave his easier access to your neck and chest, which he began pressing desperate kisses to.

Michael nipped and sucked at your neck and parts of your slightly exposed chest. Only then did you feel something poking you beneath where your legs were wrapped around Michael's waist.

"Well someone's excited." You stated.

"What can I say?" Michael laughed softly.

You smiled, rolling your eyes at his sarcasm.

"Want me to take care of that for you?"

Michael's face turned red, clearly embarrassed. As much as he tried to hide behind his 'bad boy' persona, he truly was just an awkward guy.

"As much as I'd love that it'll have to be another time. Unfortunately I have more important things to take care of." Michael sighed.

You frowned, disappointed. He was right.

"How about this. Tomorrow night we meet, and we can finish what we started." Michael inquired, tracing his finger across your jawline.

You smiled,

"That works for me."

On that note you and Michael exited the cramped closet. But before stepping out into the hall Michael pulled you in for a hug. He wrapped his arms around you lovingly, and you sank into his touch.

"I love you." Michael whispered so quietly you could barely hear him.

"I love you too." You replied with no hesitation.

Michael kissed you on the forehead before stepping out into the hall.

"Till tomorrow, my love." Were his parting words as Michael disappeared around the corner.

You laughed to yourself, what an adventure this was going to be.

#american horror story #ahs fandom #ahs apocalypse #michael langdon #michael langdon x reader #ahs murder house #ahs coven #michael langdon x you #michael langdon fanfiction #michael langdon imagine #ahs x reader #cody fern #zoe benson #ahs fanfiction #ahs #michael langdon smut

[multific]

Hail Us

Michael Langdon x Reader

Summary: A short Christmas tale.

You moved to your knees in front of the cross.

You prayed.

You prayed for good fortune, for health and peace.

Hail Satan.

You prayed for your husband's plans to go smoothly. You prayed for your soul to be damned along with his. 

And in return, you will continue to praise your only and true Lord, Satan.

Hail Satan.

You already gave yourself and your entire life to his son, Michael.

You did so because of love.

As simple as that was. Love.

You stood up and took another look at the upside-down cross.

With a smile on your face, you turn around only to see Michael standing behind you.

"My father must truly like you. You pray and he gives. I feel as if he likes you more than me, his son."

"He sure has a soft spot for me. But I believe it is fair. I am his daughter-in-law and I help you achieve your dreams. No need to be jealous."

"I'm more jealous that you spend time on your knees praying to my father instead of me." you smiled as you moved over to him, running your fingers down his defined cheekbones.

"I'm rather hungry, can we eat?" your distraction always worked.

Every time you were hungry, tired or thirsty, Michael was immediately on his feet, ready to help you.

Michael made sure you had the best meals.

"What did you pray for this time?" he asked during dinner.

"For him to grand my wishes. For us to be together forever. For our future to be filled with death and pain. Just like I always do." 

"You are so perfect. I still can't believe they thought you wanted to be on their side."

"My future is by your side. They were only a stepping stone for me to find you."

Michael smiled, recalling his youth and how much pain it caused him, but ever since he found you, he was more than okay.

"Merry Christmas, My Love." he raised his glass and you did the same.

"Hail Michael Langdon," you replied with a smirk.

"Hail Y/N Langdon, the bride of the Anti-Christ. The witch who's name brings fear into everyone's soul. The woman who made me into a real man, to live to my potential and be who I was always meant to be. Hail us."

"I love you so much, Michael."

"And I love you, Y/N."

The snow was falling outside as you continued your dinner.

And indeed, what a Christmas it was.

Taglist: @fleursirvart @greenarrowhead @thisismysecrethappyplace @sincerelyfan @theoneanna @aestheticsandmarvel @rororo06 @castellandiangelo @destynelseclipsa @spilledinkindumpster @capsiclesdoll @puknow @alwayshave-faith @alex12948 @lxdyred @imagines-by-a-typical-fangirl @anonymoussherlockandmarvelgeek @praline357 @trshngyn @avengers-r-us @violet-19999 @top1bbgloak  @manduse @jacalineiscomingforyou @mandoloriancookie @noname2246

~Masterlist~

ˇAO3ˇ

/YOU DO NOT HAVE PERMISSION TO TRANSLATE OR REUPLOAD ANY OF MY WORKS TO THIS OR OTHER PLATFORMS/

#michael langdon #ahs apocalypse #michael langdon x reader #michael langdon x you #michael langdon imagine #michael langdon fanfiction #michael langdon fluff #x reader #fanfiction #x female reader #american horror story apocalypse #american horror story imagine #american horror story fanfiction #american horror story fanfic #american horror story #american horror story apocalypse fanfic

[crown-ov-horns]

Captured Angel

Michael Langdon x F!Angel!Reader

Contains: vaginal sex, vaginal fingering, elements of coercion, implied loss of virginity, blasphemy, hierophilia

“Good, you’re awake.”

A chill ran down your spine. You had awakened in an unfamiliar room. Your head ached, your wings hung limp, and your limbs were heavy. The air was soaked to the last thread in malice. It made you nauseous. Gritting your teeth, you dragged yourself up, your mind aflame with a single thought – you had to get out. You looked around, but before you could spot a way of escape, you felt a presence. Dark... Darker than the blackest night. Your heart froze in your chest, a taste of iron suddenly coating your tongue. Though you had not seen his face, you could recognize him anywhere. Seven heads. Ten horns. His honeyed voice left a cold, oily trace on your very soul as he spoke. You drew a deep breath, and spun around, to meet a pair of piercing blue eyes.

His lips crooked into a smirk. Holding your gaze, he moved towards you. You drew back.   

“Get away from me, filthy Beast...” you snarled.

Deep down, you loathed yourself for the instinctive reaction. You were a soldier. You had a duty to stand your ground, and instead, you cowered. He promptly crossed the gap between you two.

“Ah-ah!” he scolded, clasping your chin “That’s not very nice, now, is it?..”

You grimaced. Michael Langdon. How ironic, for Satan’s son to bear your General’s name. The one who cast him out... You hoped it hurt the Evil One greatly. Michael caressed your cheek. You winced, and pushed his hand away. Sneering, he grabbed you by the throat.  

“Why am I here?” you hissed through gritted teeth.

He glanced down at your heaving chest.

“You’re my captive” he purred “Isn’t it obvious?”

You swallowed. Struggling would only worsen your chances, you knew as much. His gaze darkened with hunger as he watched you – like a wolf, salivating at a wounded deer. Your guts had coiled into a tight knot, a sickly sweet taste coating your mouth.

“Why didn’t your bootlickers kill me?” you asked, not quite certain if you wished to know the answer.

A chuckle escaped his lips. The Antichrist’s lecherous expression made your blood boil. How dare the abomination touch an angel of the Lord, you thought. A strange sensation was budding between your legs, but you pointedly ignored it, just as you ignored the feeling of unease clawing at the back of your skull.   

“That would’ve been a waste...” Michael tilted his head “They thought a gift would please me. They weren’t wrong...”

You snarled, attempting to pull away.

“Get your putrid hands off me!”

He tightened his grip on your neck.

“Hush” he coaxed in a mockingly gentle voice “I’m not going to hurt you, angel.”

“Vile creature...” you spat.

He pulled you closer. You bared your teeth, as your face almost crashed into his. Though you did not need air, the pressure on your throat was beginning to make you dizzy. Every nerve in your body screamed to fight - your muscles   had tensed, prepared for combat. You might have broken away. Escaped this unholy place. You should have at least tried... But, perhaps because of the mist gathering over your mind, your legs trembled underneath you. You found yourself staring at his mouth. His breath brushed against your skin, warm and silken. Your pulse leapt into a frenzy.

Michael snuck his other hand under your clothes. The captors had stripped you of your armour, and taken away your sword, leaving only your linen tunic to cover you. His fingertips caressed your thigh, slowly creeping upwards. You held your breath as you felt him part the soft folds of your skin.

You had never been fondled like this before. Carnal pleasure was forbidden for your kind. You should be disgusted, you understood as much. Still, the electric-like impulse roused by his touch paralyzed you, preventing you from breaking his arm.

He stroked your entrance. You stifled a gasp, your intimate muscles tightened in anticipation. Your hole was beginning to well with slick. Taking your lack of resistance for a welcome, he slipped two fingers inside you. The feeling of his skin against your sensitive membrane made your head spin, and you barely held back from bucking your hips into his hand.

He let go of your neck, only to wrap his arm around your waist. Keeping you steady, he spread his fingers wider, straining you until it hurt. You shuddered. He massaged the velvety walls of your flesh, driving you to the edge of madness. Aware of how much satisfaction hearing your cries would give him, you clenched your jaw. His skin grazed against a certain knot of nerves, and you nearly sunk to the ground as your legs buckled from the bolt of stimulation. Still, somehow, you did not make a sound.

It only made Michael more determined. He fixated on your sweet spot, leaving you to desperately clutch the lapels of his jacket. His mouth lingered but a thread away from yours - you felt his heartbeat echo against your rib cage. He narrowed his eyes, and pressed his thumb to your clit. Overwhelmed, you drew a sharp breath.

“Enjoying yourself, aren’t you?..” he teased “What is it, my dear? What do you want, hm?”

He pushed a third finger into your dripping slit. You whined in pleasure muddled with despair.

“Speak up, angel” he demanded.

Virtue be damned. Something tameless had infected you. Caught in the furor of sin, you eagerly cast your innocence aflame.

“I...” you stammered “I want... I need you to ravish me...”

Michael threw you onto the bed, and climbed on top of you. Laying flat on your back, your wings sprawled open, you looked up at him, your eyes sweetly half-lidded. His knee shoved between your thighs, he ripped the front of your tunic open. You sighed as cold air brushed against your nipples. He placed his hands on your breasts, savouring the softness of your bare skin. His eyes aflame with lust, he took a moment to admire your flushed, helpless body. Biting your bottom lip, you pushed your chest into his touch. He grabbed you by the throat again.

“You’re mine” he snarled “Mine alone...”

Against your better judgement, you nodded. Your gaze wandered down to his crotch, causing your mouth to immediately water. Michael’s lips crooked into a sleazy smirk. He unbuckled his pants, and slipped his underwear down. Your eyes widened as his hard cock sprung free. Large, but not obscenely so. You pulled the skirt of your tunic up, leaving your aching cunt at his mercy.

He pinned you down under his full weight. You wrapped your arms around him, savouring the feel of luxurious fabric under your fingers. Like an animal in heat, you craved to feel him inside. His eyes locked with yours, Michael clasped your leg, and positioned himself more comfortably. You blindly caught hold of his member, helping guide it into your hole.

Your heart skipped a beat – you let out a moan as your membranes clamped around him. Hardly giving you a moment to adjust, he began to move. The sudden strain roused a twinge, but it soon was obscured by shattering pleasure. No longer holding back your mewls and whimpers, you sank your nails into his back. Should the expensive suit get ruined, it will be his fault.

Michael groaned, his teeth bared in primal satisfaction. Your response only encouraged him, and he quickly picked up the pace. Each thrust sent a shattering wave of pleasure through your fevered nerves. You wrapped your legs around his waist, welcoming them. He traced the tip of his tongue over your neck. You hissed as his long hair tickled you, overwhelming your senses even more. He purred, and nipped at your jaw.

“Kiss me” you demanded.

He obeyed, leaning down to press his mouth against yours. You parted your lips for him, and allowed your tongues to battle for dominance.

“Say my name” he ordered, upon pulling away.

“I can’t...” you gasped in horror.

“Your general isn’t here...” he growled “It’s just you and me...” he pressed his face to your temple “Say my name, sweetheart. Show the Beast how much you’re enjoying your downfall.”

He pulled his cock almost all the was out, then slammed it back in, roughly grazing your sweet spot. Your cried out, and sank your fingers into his hair. You didn’t want to think about her. You loathed to imagine her disappointment in you. But his presence eclipsed her face. Drowned it in the storm of ecstasy ravaging you.

“Michael!”

“Good girl” he praised with a grin.

Shock after shock of ecstasy tore through your body, setting every cell of it aflame. Your forehead was laced in sweat. Your muscles quivered from the tension. You were close. Very close. Turned feral by the pleasure, he grabbed you by the wrists, thrusting into you with merciless force.

“Michael...” you moaned.

You couldn’t stand it anymore. You arched your back, trembling and convulsing as a scream escaped your throat. Michael threw his head back with a snarl. You had grown painfully tight around him, prompting him to reach his own release. You felt him spill inside you – it was the strangest, most pleasant sensation  you had ever experienced.

You collapsed into the pillows, limp and gasping for breath. He slumped down on top of you. For a moment, you allowed yourself to soak in the glowing haze of bliss. But, just when he had crept off of you, and was about to pull you into his arms, you leapt up. Using his surprise for your advantage, you climbed onto him – this time, you were the one to pin him down. You caught his gaze, and drew a dagger from underneath your ruined tunic. Afraid to molest their master’s gift, the devil worshippers had missed it.

“You will find the men who captured me, crucify them, and bleed them like pigs” you growled, pressing the blade against his throat “Do you understand me, Antichrist?”

A drop of blood sept from under the metal, glowing against his milky skin in a warning.

“Yes” he murmured, as his eyes blazed with adoration.

#ahs #american horror story #ahs apocalypse #michael langdon #ahs fanfic #ahs fanfiction #ahs fanwork #ahs fandom #horror fandom #michael langdon fanfiction #michael langdon x reader #angel!reader #blasphemy #hierophilia #i don't put too much weight on the loss of virginity #originally it was going to be full coercion but I decided I don't like that #so the angel has her power #tbh i have my suspicions reader got captured on purpose like girl where is your underwear #it's the first x reader i've ever done #and i'm a novice at writing sm*t #i often get bored and find it more work than it's worth #but this idea came to me and i thought why not work on expanding my skills #so please keep it in mind I'm kind of green :'D #still i hope you enjoy it! #my writing #tumblr fanfic #🍋 #story archive #my fic #short fic

[floral-and-fine]

Red Heart

Michael Langdon x fem reader

summary: At the end of the world, the Reader finds herself in Outpost 3 with nothing more than a name. With no memories of her life before, stuck living underground with strangers, and only ally seemingly being the militant Ms Mead, she's surprised by the instant connection she has with the member of the Cooperative that arrives one day without any prior warning. It's not long before her past and ties to him are revealed.

warnings: some of the usual dark content like murder and killing, I guess. Surprisingly no smut, just fluff and romance.

a/n: This is my longest fic ever so far! I combined a new idea with an old idea. There are 2 different endings, which is another first for me. With both endings, the story is roughly 28,500 words. I’m thinking about writing a smutty one shot for Michael soon. Thank you @ewokiee and @steeevienicks for the help.

“So,” Evie started, arching her brow. “You really have no memory of your life before?” She pressed, her eyes looking you over as she sized you up.

The two of you were sitting on one of black leather couches during cocktail hour. 

“Afraid not,” you muttered with a slight shrug. 

“Hm,” she looked away, taking a sip of her drink. “Must make adjusting to all this,” she gestured to the room and the other people present while sloshing her glass of mineral water around. “Easier… Nothing from your past to miss, no previous life to long for.”

“That’s one way to look at it, I suppose.”

It was true, you couldn’t remember anything from your past. You didn’t even have any recollection of arriving at The Outpost. Two weeks ago, you had woken up in your room here, unable to recall anything except for your name. Ms. Mead was the first person you met, she had given you a quick rundown of where you were, what had happened, and the rules of Outpost 3 while she helped you change into a formal violet dress. 

But Evie had a point, as the days passed the others became more strung out and restless, Coco’s hair changed daily, Gallant’s mood swings were more extreme, and they all complained from morning to night. 

But, when they would speak of the world before the end, you had to admit you were a little envious. They’d talk about foods you’d never likely taste, weather you’d never feel, places you’d never see… having no memories was a blessing and a curse. 

However, your curiosity was stronger than your envy, which is why you often found yourself sitting next to Evie, so you could listen to her stories. She was always happy to speak about herself and her past exploits. 

Suddenly, two strangers entered the music room. You straightened out the skirt of your dress, your fingers running across the purple silk as you sat up straight. It didn’t go unnoticed that the two strangers were both dressed in purple as well. 

You had quickly learned its significance in this new world. Purple meant you were part of the elite and that was your only clue to who you were before. You wondered if you had been an heiress like Coco or an actress like Dinah. But you had your doubts. Even Evie often commented that you were far too kind, too humble to have been anyone with any real clout or power. Which left you wondering why you were here, really, if you paid your way like the rest. 

Eager to speak to new people, everyone stood up to greet the new meat. Gallant was quick to approach them and ask them questions about what the world above was like. 

“It’s all gone,” the boy stated solemnly. 

“Everything,” the girl added. 

Ms. Venable soon joined the group, announcing it was time for dinner. Everyone followed her out to the dining room. 

You took your usual seat and quietly waited to be served by the grays. You remained seated as Coco threw her fit over having to eat another cube. You jumped slightly when Ms. Venable struck Coco’s face. You hadn’t seen her lose her composure like that and it frightened you. 

When Ms. Mead had shared with Ms. Venable that had no memory of who you were, she had questioned you repeatedly. You could see it in her eyes that she didn’t think you belonged. Ms. Venable believed you were unworthy of being a purple and hadn’t earned your spot here at this sanctuary. You were sure she was looking for a way to dispose of you. 

Your eyes remained downcasted as Ms. Venable addressed the group. She shared that three of the outposts had already been overrun, there was only enough food for 18 months, and that the world above was beyond repair.

The Fist and a few other members of The Cooperative entered the dining room, The Fist whispered something to Ms. Mead. 

“There’s a problem,” Ms. Mead shared. “We've detected a spike in the background radiation, centered in this room.”

Immediately Gallant pointed a finger at the newcomers who insisted they were clean.

“Place your hands on the table,” Ms. Mead directed, calmly. “And don’t move.”

Ms. Mead gave you a small reassuring smile as she came around with the Geiger Counter. Despite how the rest of the group felt about Ms. Mead, you found her presence comforting like you were safe with her around. 

You watched wide eyed as Gallant and Stu were dragged away from the table. Moments later Ms. Venable dismissed you and the rest of the group. 

You retired to your room and immediately started the shower to let the water heat up. Ms. Mead’s words about radiation and its effects were still swirling around your head. Stripping out of the dress, you left it on the floor as you bathed, washing every inch of your body. 

The next day, you and the rest of the group learned Stu’s fate. Andre was inconsolable, sobbing as he mourned over the death of his lover. 

At dinner everyone was surprised when instead of bland tasteless cubes, soup was served. Ms. Venable referred to it as bonne bouche.

You pushed the meat around with your spoon, you had to admit it smelled appetizing. Everyone else delved in, rejoicing over the flavor and taste. A few questioned the source of the meat and  where the meat came from, but Ms. Mead insisted that it was chicken. Yet no one seemed truly convinced. 

You were about to take a bite when Andre found a bone in his bowl. He quickly pushed his bowl aside, identifying the bone as a finger, immediately claiming that Stu had been served. 

Most of the others reacted with disgust, silverware clattering on the table as they began retching and spitting the stew out. Andre leapt from his seat, swept up in an emotional outburst. 

Ms. Venable attempted to reassure the group, stressing that there were some lines that should never be crossed. 

Evie was the only purple unphased and continued to eat. 

You calmly placed your spoon back down on your napkin, watching as the rest of the purples filed out of the dining room. 

As you joined them in the music room, they were still talking about the strange supper, arguing over whether it had been Stu or not. Andre was still distraught as his mother tried to comfort him. 

The arguing came to a halt as Emily shushed everyone when the music suddenly stopped. Gallant rushed to the radio as the song had changed. For two full weeks nonstop Karen Carpenter's voice had droned on and on, but now a new voice rang out. 

‘There's got to be a morning after

If we can hold on through the night’

Gallant mistook it as a sign of hope, a message sent directly from The Cooperative that there was hope for the future, but 18 grueling months had passed since then.  

Evie had run out of stories to tell. Andre’s tears had dried. Dinah’s advice had become stale and repetitive. 

The days had all blurred together, then the weeks, then the months. Everyday was just like the last. You were desperate for something to change. 

You often wondered, late in the night, if perhaps you had already died and this was purgatory or even hell, and that you were here to atone for the sins of life you couldn’t remember. 

Ms. Venable tapped her cane.”This will be our last breakfast,” she announced. “We’re cutting back to one meal a day.”

You could feel the dismay and uneasiness in the room. Coco was first to share her complaints about the new arrangement, followed by Gallant. Both Evie and Dinah tried to be voices of reason, but it seemed to only fuel their frustrations more. Gallant jumped to his feet, and threatened Dinah with his fork. 

Instinctively, you scooted closer to Ms. Mead as tempers rose. She looked towards The Fist, giving her a wordless order. 

“I say we take our chances outside,” Coco’s assistant suggested. 

“She’s right. We have to get out of here,” Gallant agreed. 

“Nobody’s going anywhere,” Ms. Mead stated firmly. 

Gallant threw his plate, “What are you going to do? Shoot us all?”

The Fist made her way towards him. 

You gripped your utensils tightly as the scene unfolded before you. You knew the members of The Cooperative wouldn’t hesitate to kill any one of you, the had done away with several people already. 

Suddenly, red lights flashed accompanied with the blare of an alarm rung out, effectively catching everyone’s attention. 

“Perimeter alert. There’s been a breach,” The Fist explained.

Ms. Mead sighed, giving you a curt nod, before following The Fist towards the stairs. 

No one was sure what to expect. Most were thinking that this was it, that the outpost would be overrun like the others. 

You probably should’ve felt worried as well, but frankly you were just glad something unexpected had happened, something to break the monotony. You stared up at the ceiling wondering who or what was up there. 

That night you were restless, tossing and turning, legs tangled in your sheets as you tried to fall into a deep sleep that never came. Instead, your busy mind conjured vivid and unsettling dreams, full of unfamiliar people and experiences that you didn’t remember or you didn’t understand, almost like being in a foreign film. 

Amongst all the nameless faces was a boy with blonde hair and striking blue eyes who appeared over and over again, catching your attention. As you watched him from afar he continuously changed from a child to a man.

You tried to get closer to him, reaching out with your hands trying to grab him, stop him, but each time he slipped away from your fingers with a pained look in his eyes. 

When your eyes snapped open, your poor head was throbbing, pounding against your skull. You curled into a ball sobbing quietly over the pain and the new emptiness in your chest. 

Everytime you closed your eyes you thought about that boy, it was almost as if you could feel his longing, his pain. You wished you could make out his face, but you could only recall pieces, like his fluffy blonde hair and the shade of his steel blue eyes. 

…

He was beautiful.

He was the most beautiful person you had ever seen, not that you much to compare him to considering the only faces you could remember were residents here at the outpost. You knew you were staring as he strode into the music room, but you couldn’t resist. Even if you tried, you were sure that you couldn’t imagine anyone more perfect than the man standing before you. 

Ms.Venable stepped aside as he turned and faced the survivors of Outpost 3. 

“My name is Langdon, and I represent The Cooperative,” the man stated, standing in the center of the room. 

You were so engrossed with his appearance that you were unable to process his words, although you did notice the soothing sound of his honeyed voice, so sweet and rich. He exuded confidence and poise as he spoke of the horrors that had befallen the world and the few remaining survivors. There was a sort of haughtiness as he answered questions that you also admired. 

It was unnerving, feeling attraction for the very first time. It was as if you could easily lose yourself to him, all of yourself, and that alone was very frightening. Surely, before the world crumpled, you must have felt this sort of magnetism towards people before, but you couldn’t imagine it was anything as powerful as this. Was this a crush? Love at first sight? Whatever it was, you weren’t prepared for how strong this pull would be. 

Gallant volunteered to be interviewed first, obviously eager to earn his spot at The Sanctuary. Despite your immediate interest in Michael Langdon, you were not as eager to be alone with him. 

How could you answer any of his questions when you didn’t know a thing about yourself? 

But as the thought crossed your mind, Michael’s eyes met yours, and for a brief moment it seemed as though his sauve and indifferent attitude faltered revealing something vulnerable and delicate beneath. Blue eyes that were cold and hard like ice were now swimming with emotion. 

It only lasted for a second, his cool demeanor returning as he turned away from you. 

“The process should only take me a couple of days,” Michael explained. “So you won’t be kept in suspense forever.”

“For those of you who don’t make the cut, all is not lost. If the worst should happen and feral cannibals come knocking,” he held up a vial containing white pills. “Down one of these. One minute later, you fall asleep and never wake up.”

“I look forward to meeting each and every one of you,” his eyes swept across the room, his eyes locking with yours one more time before he took his leave. 

There was a heaviness in the air as the weight of his words sunk in. There was no survival without admittance to The Sanctuary. Staying here would inevitably lead to death, it was just a question of how, by feral cannibals or suicide. 

As usual, the others erupted into a squabble, arguing over who was worthy and unworthy of going to The Sanctuary. 

You rose to your feet as you felt your headache returning. No one questioned you as you made your way out, towards the comfort of your bedroom.

Your head snapped towards your bedroom door as someone urgently rapped against it. 

“Ms. Venable has requested your presence,” Ms. Mead announced from the other side. “She has a few questions for you.”

“I’ll be right out,” you sighed as your fingers expertly finished buttoning your dress. 

Ms. Mead gave you a half smile as you stepped out of your room. The two of you walked quietly through the halls as she escorted you to Ms. Venable’s office. 

This happened about once a month, and you dreaded it every single time. At first she was reasonably pleasant, but as the months went by, she became more hostile, frustrated that your answers never changed. 

You took a deep breath as you both stopped outside her door. Ms. Mead got the door and held it open for you.

“Thank you,” you whispered to her as you crossed the threshold. 

“Of course,” she nodded, but as she closed the door, she gave Ms. Venable a stern look, who glared back in return. There seemed to be a sudden rift between the two women. 

You looked wistfully at the closed door, wishing that Ms. Mead had stayed. Ms. Venable cleared her throat and motioned to the chair across from her. 

“Ms. Y/n,” she greeted you as you took your seat. 

“Ms. Venable,” you replied, with a polite but forced smile. 

“18 months,” she began, chuckling dryly. “We’ve been here for 18 months and you still claim to have no memories?” She phrased it as a question but didn’t wait for a response. “It’s almost too convenient, isn’t it? The perfect little lie to hide behind.”

“It’s not a lie,” you insisted, locking your eyes with hers hoping to show her you were telling the truth, just like you had all the other times before. 

Ms. Venable wasn’t convinced, of course, that’s why she continued with these monthly interrogations. She had been present for the arrival of all the others, except for you. You seemed to have materialized out of nowhere, standing beside Ms. Mead in a satin gown as she introduced you to the other purples. 

“So,” Ms. Venable continued, barely able to hide her contempt while she feigned sympathy. “No changes? Nothing at all?” 

You looked away, your fingers playing with the lace trim on your skirt. You hadn’t planned on sharing that dream with anyone, but maybe it would get her off your back for a while. 

“I had this… dream recently, I can’t remember all the details, but there was this face, it’s not a clear image, but it lingers in my mind, of a sweet boy with blonde hair. I know… I know whoever he is, that I love him,” you admitted. 

Tears welled in your eyes as you tried to picture him, but no matter how hard you tried it was like trying to see through fog. And there were all these feelings that emerged just at the thought of him, completely overwhelming you, making it hard to articulate any further. 

“I-I need to go,” you sniffled, your vision blurry as you got to your feet and rushed out the office. 

Your headache returned, bringing waves of nausea with it. The world around you was swirling and rocking, the light of the candles and lanterns were blinding. Holding your hand out you steadied yourself with the wall, using it as your anchor and guide as you tried to return to the safety of your room. 

“Ms. Y/n?”

Even with you squeezing your shut, you recognized the voice belonging to Coco’s assistant Mallory. She immediately offered you assistance, helping you sit on the floor. 

“Thank you,” you muttered, resting against the cool concrete wall. 

“Of course,” she said, sitting next to you. 

You bent your knees, pulling them up to your chest. “I keep getting these headaches along with these strange dreams,” you explained. “I think they might have to do with my memories.”

“I wouldn’t worry too much about it,” she consoled. “Ever since being here, I’ve felt off too, like I’m not all here or I’m missing parts of myself… I have a feeling there’s a reason for it all.”

The two of you sat there in a comfortable silence. You had never really spent time with Mallory before, the grays were always so busy compared to the purples, but she seemed much nicer than most of the people who’ve gotten to know. 

Mallory accompanied you back to your room, once you felt well enough to walk again. You still had to prepare for your upcoming interview. 

….

The grays pulled the doors open and immediately closed them shut as soon as you stepped into the office. 

Michael was waiting by his desk for you.  An eager smile formed on his lips as he watched you timidly approach him. 

“Let’s begin, shall we?” He said, gesturing to the leather chair across from his desk before he promptly moved to his own seat. 

You swallowed thickly, your hands folded in your lap, you had spent hours agonizing over this interview. You wanted to secure a spot at The Sanctuary just like everyone else, but what could you say to convince him? 

Ms. Venable drilled you every chance she got about who you are or were, she was obviously certain that you didn’t belong with the rest. Even the other purples had made it a habit, regularly pointing out to you that if you had been anyone important than someone here at the outpost should’ve recognized you, but none of them did. You were no one. 

Then, of course, there was the whole other ordeal of you being infatuated with Michael Langdon, you were completely bewitched by his charm and beauty. 

Your stomach was already fluttering uncontrollably simply because you were in the same room with him, alone. Your gaze flickered to him, briefly taking in the sight before you. His body language spoke volumes as sat there like a young king perched upon his throne, radiating elegance and authority. 

“You’ve been awfully quiet,” Michael mused. “ Unlike your…companions, who have all been so loud and obnoxious,” he rolled his eyes. “Constantly pestering me, pleading their cases, and offering deals and bribes thinking I can be swayed by their foolish promises but not you, not even now, why?”

You bit your lip, unsure how to respond. 

“Could it be that you’ve already decided that you won’t be selected?” he speculated. 

You looked away. “I’m nobody special or significant,” you explained, bunching your skirts in your hands. “I don’t even know why I’m here or how I even arrived at the outpost.”

“Ah, yes,” Michael hummed. “Ms. Venable has informed me that you have no memories of your past.” He gave you a hard look, before leaning forward, his fingers drumming on the desk. “Have you considered that perhaps you’re here because someone special, someone powerful, made these arrangements for you?”

You shook your head, the thought hadn’t crossed your mind at all, but it wasn’t an unreasonable idea. “If that were true then wouldn’t that person be here with me now?”

Michael shrugged, resting his elbows on the armrests as he leaned back and crossed his legs, “Unless they weren’t able to get here in time, perhaps they died on their way to the outpost or worse, survived… but who knows maybe they did make it, maybe they’re here and haven’t told you.”

“Why would someone do that?” Your eyes moved from Michael to the files on his desk, could it really be that one of the others knows who you are. “Do any of your files mention anything about why or how I ended up here?”

“I’m afraid that’s classified,” he replied with a mocking smile, laying his hand on top of the stack, a playful look in his eye as he stared down at the pile. 

Your shoulders slumped, you had hoped that Michael would have some answers for you, but instead he just planted more questions and worries in your head. 

“How do you feel about them, the others?” He asked offhandedly, casually changing the subject, while slightly swiveling his chair side to side.

You perked up at the question. “Oh, Evie has been a friend, someone to talk to, to confide in,” you said with a small shrug. “And Ms. Mead, even though she keeps her distance from us, she’s been a source of comfort for me, someone I can trust.”

Micheal snickered, shaking his head, “You’re the first to say anything remotely kind about the other survivors. The rest were all so quick to share with me the ugly and disgraceful truths they had gathered about one another. It’s… a refreshing change.”

He tilted his head, his gaze lingering on your face as his finger traced down the side of his face to his jaw. Your eyes followed the gesture, mesmerized, it seemed unfair to try to have to concentrate with him right in front of you. Every movement he made, no matter how small or fleeting, was alluring, like he was tempting you. 

“Do you find me attractive?” He asked, his eyes lighting up with delight as he watched you squirm. 

Your eyes widened, twisting your silk skirt with your hands, it was as if he could read your mind. 

“Tell me,”  Michael urged with a smirk, rising from his chair and slowly striding towards you. “What exactly do you like about me?” 

He partially sat on his desk right in front of you, his hands clasped in front as he waited. 

You parted your lips, licking them nervously. “Everything,” you answered in a small voice. 

“Everything?” He repeated, lifting his brow. He leaned closer towards you, his long golden hair falling forward like a curtain, his face inching towards yours. 

You nodded, your eyes locking with his as you craned your neck towards him. 

“I believe you,” he whispered, his breath tickling your face as his nose touched yours. “Too bad we’re out of time.”

You blinked in surprise as the large black doors slid open. 

Michael straightened out his posture, before turning away. “We’ll speak again, soon,” he added as he headed up the staircase. 

You wandered the halls, head in the clouds, daydreaming of the kiss that almost happened between you and Michael. You were certain now that whatever you were feeling was more than a crush. 

“Ms. Y/n?” Ms. Mead started as you almost walked into her. 

“Oh, I’m sorry,” you gasped, feeling embarrassed as you suddenly returned to planet Earth. 

“Everything alright?”

You giggled, “I’m fine, never better.”

She gave you an odd look, “Are you sure? This morning you didn’t look too well.”

You smiled warmly at her, “It was just a little headache, that’s all.”

She nodded, still not completely convinced. “Well, I’m glad you’re okay.”

“Thank you, Ms. Mead.”

She sighed, straightening out her coat as you both stood there in the middle of the empty corridor. You were about to ask what was on her mind, but suddenly she opened her mouth. 

“Have you talked to him yet? Mr. Langdon?” She asked. 

“I have,” you replied, trying not to smile too wide.

She looked down. “The others seemed worse off after talking to him,” she shared. “Can’t say I’m looking forward to my turn.”

“Why?” You inquired, voice laced with concern. “Surely your hard work and dedication to The Cooperative should guarantee you a spot.”

“That’s kind of you to say.” 

“It’s the truth,” you assured her. 

“What do you make of him?” Ms. Mead asked, unsure how to feel about the newcomer, he was with The Cooperative afterall and her loyalty to her employer was still strong. She had followed orders and had done the best she could in these circumstances. Perhaps, this Langdon did hold the key to salvation. 

“It’s hard to put it into words,” you began to explain. “But I feel a connection to him.”

“Just keep your wits about you,” she advised, giving you a slight nod as she left. 

…

You were moving sluggishly, having spent most of the morning in bed trying to recover from another headache. While the pain lingered, your head no longer felt like it was going to explode. 

Slowly, you pulled open your wardrobe and shifted through your options wishing there was something comfier and easier to wear instead of all these complicated dresses. 

You eventually settled on a simple tea gown which you were able to wear without a corset. As you were tying the back of the bodice, someone knocked on your door.

“Ms. Venable?” You questioned, stepping back as she invited herself into your bedroom. 

“Close the door,” she ordered, standing tall with both of her hands clasping her cane. 

You pushed the door closed, but remained far from Ms. Venable. She had never dropped in on you like this, and you didn’t like it. It felt too invasive, seeing her in your room acting as if she owned the place. You knew nothing good would come from this visit. 

“I want you to tell me more about the boy,” she demanded, her dark eyes boring into yours.

“I don’t want to talk about him.”

“Hiding something?” She probed. 

“No,” you objected. “I’ve already told you everything I could remember.”

“Surely that’s not all,” she argued, giving you an incredulous look. 

After what Ms. Mead shared with her about the beautiful boy, Ms. Venable was now convinced that the two of you were speaking of the same boy. The way you both reacted emotionally while speaking of your love for him made it obvious. 

Now the big question was who was this boy? 

Since the beginning, Ms. Venable had suspected that there was a connection between Ms. Mead and you. This only solidified her suspicions that you and her knew each other from before, most likely through The Cooperative. 

This had to be why Ms. Mead had protected you, you were the one that should’ve been killed instead of Stu. But Ms. Mead had decided otherwise, despite the clear orders Ms. Venable had given her. No one would have cared or even noticed if you had died. You were an outlier, something unpredictable to the order she had created here. She wanted you gone. 

“Think harder,” Ms. Venable commanded, glaring at you. “Who is the boy?”

“I don’t know,” you pressed your back against the wall. 

She slammed her cane on the floor. “Worthless girl,” she snapped. “You have no idea what’s at stake here.”

You had to know something. The order she had worked so hard to cultivate was beginning to crumble, it was all in jeopardy because of the arrival of Langdon. He was pulling it all apart at the seams, revealing her lies and planting the seeds of disobedience. He brought chaos and disorder into her outpost while repeatedly undermining her authority. She needed to regain some sort of control, before it was too late. 

“What?” You furrowed your brows, tears slowly rolling down your cheeks. “I don’t understand, what does he have to do with anything?”

Ms. Venable practically snarled, “Liar.”

You jumped slightly as your door suddenly opened, revealing Michael standing on the other side. 

“Ms. Venable,” he began. “I’ve been waiting in my office for quite some time…I still have questions for Ms. y/n,” he explained, folding his arms behind his back.

Ms.Venable glared at Michael, clenching her jaw tightly, her hands practically shaking with irritation over the sudden disruption. 

“I don’t like to be kept waiting,” he warned.

Ms. Venable didn't budge, she didn’t like being played for a fool, you knew more than you were letting on and she could see now that there was something going on between you and Langdon. 

Micheal smirked, obviously amused.“I think it’s time for you to leave,” he stated, taking a step to the side gesturing for her to go. 

She huffed, her cane tapping on the floor as she finally took her leave.

“Mr. Langdon,” you said softly, tilting your head.

“Michael,” he corrected.

“Michael,” you started again. “I wasn’t aware we were meeting again so soon.”

He smiled, directing his attention to you. “I wanted to continue where we left off yesterday. And now that Ms. Venable is gone, we can.”

Your face flushed as you recalled how your interview with him ended. You could still picture his face just inches from yours, his lips parted as you leaned in towards him. You had wondered if  you had just a minute or two longer with him, what would’ve happened? Was he really going to kiss you?

“What are you thinking about?” He looked around your room, before approaching you, his hands wrapping around your elbows as he pulled you towards him.

“Nothing,” you answered in a small voice. 

He laughed lightly, “I’m sure it’s not nothing.” His fingers curled tighter around your arms. “Let’s see… does it have anything to do with me?”

You bit your lip and nodded. 

He smirked triumphantly. “You don’t have to be so nervous about that,” Michael mused. “I want you to think about me… to want me. Do you want me?”

You nodded again, not trusting your voice. 

“Good,” he murmured. “Considering how we might end up the last two people on Earth.”

You furrowed your brow as Michael reached up, his knuckle running along your cheek. 

“Which brings me to why I’m here,” he continued, lowering his hand making you immediately miss his touch as it left your skin. “I have important news, news that I wanted to deliver to you in person.”

He focused on your face with a serious look, “What I’m about to tell you doesn’t leave this room, do you understand?”

“Yes,” you promised. 

Michael leaned down, his lips right by your ear. “You’ve been granted a spot at The Sanctuary.”

You looked at him with wide eyes. You couldn’t believe it. 

He smiled, placing his index finger over your lips. “This is our little secret.”

His finger lingered on your skin for a moment before he reluctantly released you. Smoothing out his coat, he gave you one last look, before leaving you there speechless. 

…

The complex multi-level underground structure of Outpost 3 was prone to creating strange moving shadows. It wasn’t dark figures following you in your peripherals. The fire and candle light that lit up each room and passage were unable to reach all the far corners. 

It was eerie at the beginning, constantly feeling like you had to look over your shoulder, but eventually you got used to it, like you did with the cubes, the complicated clothes, and the same song that played every damn day. It just became part of your reality. 

But lately you began to feel as though you were being followed by more than just the usual shadows, this new dark figure seemed more real, more solid. 

At first you blamed your mind, thinking it was playing tricks on you or mistaking the shadows for a real person. Since you weren’t getting much sleep, because of the vivid dreams and the horrendous headaches, it didn’t seem unreasonable to suspect that you might be hallucinating. 

You couldn’t shake the feeling, however. Unlike the shadows, it seemed to have more mobility, slinking along the walls or even the ceiling, watching you, but you were never able to get a good look at it. A few times, in the middle of night, you had jolted awake swearing that you had felt someone in bed beside you. 

You felt like you were losing your mind. 

Walking past the large fire in the atrium, you hoped that things would be better at The Sanctuary, less dreary and hopeless like the outpost had become. The change in scenery alone would be a welcomed change. 

You sighed thinking about what Michael had said about it just being you and him, you wished he had elaborated. 

Out of nowhere, you saw a dark figure move above you, against your better judgment you followed it, going up the stairs to a vacant room. 

You stood there frozen as a shadowy figure stood across from you. It tilted its head, staring at you. Its body was covered head to toe in latex. 

“Who are you?” You asked. 

It didn’t answer. 

“Michael?” You took a step closer, observing it more closely, wondering who or what it could be dressed like that. Your eyes wandered over its body, the tight fitting material left little to the imagination. 

It moved forward as well, extending its hand and caressing your cheek similar to how Michael had done earlier, but the texture of the latex on your skin made your skin crawl. It lacked the warmth and comfort Michael’s touch had brought you. The same touch that had excited you earlier, the same touch you craved to feel again. 

You squirmed as it laid its other hand on your waist. Desire radiated from its body as it pulled you closer. 

Fingers drifted up towards your chest. Your heart began to race, panic settling over you as you speculated what the strange creature would do next. 

The hand that had caressed your cheek trailed towards your neck. You inhaled sharply as its large fingers wrapped around your neck. 

Firmly you pushed it away from you. 

It tilted its head the other way, watching you attentively. For a moment you were worried that you had upset the person or creature, but it simply walked past you and out the door, seemingly satisfied. 

You stumbled backwards until your back hit a wall, releasing a shaky breath you had been holding in. 

The interaction was so odd and brief, that you couldn’t make sense of what had just happened. But something deep down told you it was a test. That Michael was testing you. 

Breathing in deeply, you tried to regain your composure. You knew it didn’t have any sort of malicious intent, it was more that you felt repulsed by the idea of anyone other than Michael touching you like that. 

You hoped you had seen the last of it. 

…

You were in the library when you heard that Evie had passed. You sat there for hours, in silence, as you tried to process the news. 

Gallant was at least courteous enough to find and tell you that she had died, emphasizing that she had died peacefully in her sleep. He held a somber expression, trying desperately to appear upset, nodding his head as he expressed that she had lived a long and fuller life than most. Too bad the crocodile tears he managed to muster were wasted, you were so despondent that you weren’t really listening anymore as he cried.

You weren’t sure how to feel about the situation, she had been a friend to you when you had no one, but you weren’t blind to her boasting and egotistical nature. You sure that in life she had more enemies than friends, even her own grandson barely seemed to tolerate her. 

There would be no funeral, no ceremony celebrating her life or to mourn her, everyone would just move on without a second thought. 

Your head shot up as you felt the couch dip beside you. 

Michael crossed his legs and propped his arm up on the back of the sofa, resting his head on his hand, as he turned his body towards you. 

“You’ve heard the news, I assume?” He asked, in a gentle tone.

You nodded as tears finally streamed down your face. Suddenly it all felt more real, now that Michael was here. Evie was really gone and your world seemed smaller now because of it. 

He rested his free hand over yours as you cried freely, his thumb caressing circles on the top of your hand. It took several minutes before you were able to compose yourself. 

“I know she wasn’t anyone’s favorite person,” you sniffled. “She rubbed people the wrong way, made everything about her, but Constance was my-“

You stopped speaking as you realized your mistake. 

Constance? 

The name had slipped from your lips so easily, like you had said it many times before, but that made no sense, you didn’t know anyone by that name, or did you?

Michael paused, his entire body becoming stiff as he peered at your face. 

“I’m sorry,” you shook your head. “I don’t know where that came from. I’ve been getting these headaches and having the weirdest dreams.”

“It’s alright,” he reassured you, his shoulders visibly relaxing. “Perhaps, it’s your mind preparing itself for when your memories return. I wouldn’t worry about it.”

You wiped your face, and inhaled deeply, “Thank you for being here with me.”

“Of course,” he murmured, shifting in his seat and taking the hand he was holding and moving it to his lap. He reclined his head on the back of the sofa as you scooted closer to him, laying your head against his shoulder.

Michael stared at the chandelier, watching flames on the candles flicker with a pensive expression, his hand holding yours tighter as his thoughts drifted back to memories he had forbidden himself from revisiting. 

He had changed and grown so much over the past couple of years, but having you back by his side invoked so many emotions and memories. You were always there when he needed you, when he wanted you. 

He felt like such a monster after Grandma’s death. It left him wondering whether people were incapable of loving him because he was so wicked, evil. But you stayed with him, comforted him, loved him. You had knelt down beside him on the wooden floors, letting him cry upon your shoulder as you held him close... 

Michael blinked a few times, holding back tears. “You should get some rest,” he managed to say in an even tone. 

You stretched your arms over your head and nodded. Your entire body felt heavy. Once you arrived in your room you collapsed on your bed, passing out, too tired to dream. 

… 

Michael closed his laptop and rubbed his forehead. He couldn’t focus on his work. The events from earlier had opened the floodgates, leaving him feeling like he was drowning inside. 

It was becoming such a struggle to keep you at arms length. Even without your memories he could see that you were still drawn to him, that you still cared for him, and it was taking all of his self restraint not to take advantage of that. 

There was nothing he wouldn’t give to have things like they were… to listen to you talk softly as you played with his hair or to reach out and hold your hand whenever he needed to.

But it was still too soon, he still had to keep you safe. 

He glanced at the trunk that held the few belongings he brought with him to the outpost. Laying on top was a book of yours, your favorite book. You had read it to him so many times that he grew to love it as much as you did. 

Closing his eyes Michael could picture the last time you read it to him, as clear as day, back in the old mansion. It was the middle of the afternoon, his head was resting on your belly as both laid together in his room, your nails were scratching his scalp. He had fallen asleep before you reached the end…

For nearly two years he tried to read it, but he never got very far, it was only a good book when you were reading it. 

Michael was sitting in front of the fireplace, head resting against his hand as he gazed into the flames. A worn book sat on his lap, forgotten. Just a few more days he kept reminding himself, he had worked so hard to get to this point, but soon he’d have everything he wanted. 

He turned his head as you opened the door and peeked in. 

“You wanted to see me?”

“That’s right,” Michael nodded, rising from his seat and taking a few long strides towards you. “I’ve heard you’ve read most of the books available in the library.”

“Not much else to do,” you smiled slightly, shutting the door behind you. 

“Would you like a new book to read?” He asked, looking down at you. “I have a feeling, you’ll really enjoy this one.”  He dangled the book that had been on his lap in front of you. 

You tilted your head, giving him a wary look, but as soon as you reached out to accept it, he pulled it away with a smug grin. 

Micheal tutted, shaking his head. “Not so quick, there’s a catch,” he teased, holding it over his shoulder. “If you want to read it, you have to read it to me.”

“Read it to you?” You narrowed your eyes.

“Mmhmm,” he nodded, getting closer to you.

“I don’t understand,” you muttered.“Why?”

“So many questions,” Michael chuckled. “If you really don’t want to, I could ask one of the others, Gallant, maybe? Or Coco?”

“I’ll do it,” you blurted out, the thought of him asking someone else smacked you with a bout of anxiety, making your heart jump into your throat. Again you made a reach for the book, and this time he allowed you to take it. With a smile, he relinquished the hardback book to you, and headed back towards the fireplace. 

Gracefully, he shucked off his black coat and laid it on the back of one of the chairs. As you were about to sit on the other armchair, he stopped you and offered you his hand, guiding you to the rug on the floor. 

You knelt down on your knees first, before trying your best to get comfortable on the floor. The tight bodice and large skirt on your dress limited your mobility.

You were caught off guard as Michael joined you, resting his head upon your lap as stretched out on the carpet. His face looked up, his attention all on you as he waited for you to start. 

Clearing your throat, you opened the book to the first chapter and started reading. Michael took a deep breath and closed his eyes, his arms laying across his chest as you read in a soft and steady tone. 

Michael was right, you immediately became engrossed in the story and attached to its characters. Time passed comfortably between the two of you as if this were a regular occurrence or activity. Absent-mindedly, you played with Michael’s hair, casually twirling the silky strands around your finger. He slowly opened his eyes gazing at the fireplace with the same vulnerable expression you had briefly seen before. 

He snatched your hand, curling his fingers around your palm, with a firm grip he placed your hand on his chest holding it there with both of his. 

You stopped reading, and looked down at him. His head was still turned away from you, long blonde locks covering the side of his face. You could feel his heart beating under your touch. Your fingers slowly grasped the front of his shirt. Laying the book down, you reached out and tucked his hair behind his ear. 

Michael closed his eyes and gave a long drawn out sigh before immediately sitting up. 

“Michael?”

He didn’t answer as he got to his feet. 

Just then, two grays abruptly slid the large black doors open. Ms. Venable appeared heated, her lips forming a scowl as she stared daggers between you and Michael. 

“It’s time for dinner,” Ms. Venable reminded sharply. “You’ve already missed cocktail hour.”

Michael stepped in front of you, protectively, blocking Ms. Venable’s view of you. 

“My apologies,” he said, though his expression said otherwise.

Ms. Venable pursed her lips, her hand balling into a fist. Michael narrowed his eyes, standing tall, almost daring Ms. Venable to say something else with him present. Finally, she averted her gaze.

He lifted his coat from the chair and slipped it back on effortlessly. “I’ll escort her down.”

Michael waited until she left, before he helped you up. He still appeared irritated over the intrusion, acting unusually quiet. 

You placed your hand on his upper arm, guiding him to face you. Michael raised his brow as he looked down at you, a faint smile forming on his lips. 

Offering you his arm, he led you downstairs. 

…

Ms. Venable gathered everyone in the music room, purples and grays, under the guise of an emergency meeting. All eyes were on her as she began to speak of the hardships endured by all during the past months. 

“I believe now what we need is a moment of celebration,” she announced. “Which is why this weekend, as a gesture of goodwill, we will have a Halloween soirée.”

Gallant and Coco were the only ones to react with notable excitement. The rest of the purples seemed to question the real purpose of this masquerade.

You couldn’t help but notice the lack of Evie’s big personality in the room, the other purples seemed so dull by comparison. You missed her witty comments and humor. She probably had some interesting stories relating to Halloween. 

Gallant, perhaps reading your expression, added how it was a shame his grandmother wouldn’t be present. However, he did a piss poor job of pretending to be sad. You wanted to roll your eyes at the comment, but resisted.

With everyone present in one room, with the exception of Michael, you were reminded that you had been selected for The Sanctuary. You were curious about who else Michael had chosen. 

You glanced briefly at Ms.Mead, if it were up to you, you would pick her to join. She was far more useful and resourceful than the others, and could handle stressful situations with a cool head from what you had witnessed. To you she was simply one of the best this Outpost had to offer. 

“I encourage you all to use your imaginations, to create what I am sure to be exquisite costumes,” Ms. Venable continued. 

Once again the only ones who appeared happy about this whole ordeal were Coco and Gallant. It seemed strange for Ms. Venable to be acting so out of character, for her to care about something as frivolous as Halloween or making amends to anyone. There had to be more to it all. 

Before dismissing everyone, she stressed, “Attendance is mandatory.” 

The day of the masquerade, you had spent most of the day primping and preening hoping to look your best for the night. Even though it seemed unlikely, a part of you was holding out hope that you would see Michael tonight. 

You did a little twirl in front of the full length mirror in your room. You were wearing a full length dark purple gown with an off -shoulder neckline made of silky ruffles. 

Arriving in the music room, you spotted Ms. Mead who entered with a cart carrying apples. You felt a flutter of excitement, watching as she started to add them to a a barrel of water. They looked so appetizing. The others began to gather around, stunned that there was fresh fruit. 

Looking at their faces as they stood around the barrel, you realized that you had left your mask upstairs. While they were all distracted with the fresh apples for the party, you snuck away and headed back to your room. 

Lifting the skirt of your dress, you hurried back up the steps, but slowed down immediately when saw Micheal standing on the landing. His hand was resting on the bannister, as he gazed down at you. 

“Are you heading downstairs?” You asked as you made your way up. 

Michael chuckled, “Afraid not.”

“Oh,” you said with a sad smile, trying to hide your disappointment. 

He offered you his hand as you took the last few steps up. Michael’s lips curled into a sneer as he examined you and your dress.

“Such an ugly color,” he criticized, his finger grazing over the dark purple fabric. “Doesn’t suit you at all.”

You glanced down at it, “There’s not much variety when it comes to color in my closet.” 

He hummed, his hands undoing his scarf. He held it up to your face, before wrapping it securely around your neck, “Now red,” he murmured. “Red looks good on you.”

You could feel your face heat up over the small compliment. 

Michael sighed as he took a moment to admire you, then leaned down, his lips close to your ear. “I bet you’d look even better in black.” 

He pulled back. “Come with me,” he invited. 

You bit your lip, looking back towards the stairs leading down to the music room. 

He shook his head and reached for your hand. “No one will even notice you're not there.”

“But Ms. Venable said attendance was mandatory,” you whispered, playing with one end of the scarf. 

Micheal frowned, his grip on your hand tightening, “I thought you’d want to spend time with me.”

“I do,” you said quickly.

“Then why are you hesitating?” He inquired, his voice steadily rising. “I can give you whatever you want, they can’t.”

You cupped his cheek, you hadn’t seen him become so emotional before, “I just wanted to try an apple, that’s all, but I’d rather be with you.”

He examined your face, his eyes practically staring straight into your soul. “That’s all?” He asked softly. 

With a deep breath, his calm and confident façade returned. Lacing his fingers with yours, Michael led you to his room. 

He motioned for you to have a seat on his bed, before he bent down and unlatched a black chest that was on the floor. From the chest he produced an apple. 

Michael held it out towards you, it was a deep rich red color and unblemished. It looked perfect. You only hoped it tasted as good as it looked. 

“Go ahead,” he urged, sitting by his desk and watching intently as you brought the apple to your lips. 

You moaned as you bit into it, savoring the satisfying crunch and the sweet taste as juice dribbled down your chin. You took several more bites, giggling a little as you wiped your mouth with the back of your hand. 

You suddenly felt self conscious as you realized Micheal was still watching, his gaze firmly fixed on you. 

“How is it?” He asked, shifting forward as he moved his elbows from his chair onto his knees. 

You hid your mouth behind your hand as you swallowed, “Delicious.”

“Is that right?”

“Best thing I’ve ever tasted.” 

“I can think of something that tastes better,” he leaned forward, tilting his head and stroking his hand against your cheek and down to your neck as he pulled you closer. “It’s time for you to come back to me, y/n.”

His soft lips brushed against yours, before parting. His tongue lightly trailed over your lower lip, tasting the juice from the apple. You melted against him, your apple slipping from your fingers and falling to the floor as you held onto him. You closed your eyes, clinging to him as if he were the only thing keeping you from falling. 

Who would’ve thought a kiss would be so powerful? 

***flashback***

Micheal sat by the window, anxiously awaiting for your arrival. When grandma had shared that she was going out for the evening, and that you would be the one coming to watch him, he immediately perked up with excitement. 

“How much longer grandma?” He whined.

“Not much longer,” she replied, patting the top of her grandson’s head. 

Constance felt like she had hit the jackpot when you started sitting for her. After the last few babysitters, who had unfortunately met their demise here in her house, she feared that she’d never be able to go out alone or get a moment’s peace without having to add one death on her already guilt ridden conscience. But after that first night, when she entered her home and saw you alive and well with Micheal beside you just as happy as he could be, she honestly felt like the luckiest woman alive. 

“Now remember to behave yourself, Micheal,” Constance started. “We both like Ms. y/n very much, don't we? It would be such a pity if she wasn’t around anymore.” 

Micheal nodded his head, “I’ll be good.”

Now, Constance was no fool, she had her suspicions as to why her grandson made an exception when it came to you. The little dear had a crush on you, his first crush. It was truly sweet, watching him moon over you, almost made Micheal seem like a normal boy. 

“She’s here!” Micheal shouted, jumping out of his seat to greet you at the door. 

“Hi, Micheal,” you laughed as he wrapped his arms around your middle, squeezing you tightly. 

“I missed you,” he mumbled, face pressed into stomach. 

“I missed you too,” you rubbed his back as he squeezed you even tighter. 

Constance smiled, grabbing her purse, “I’ll be back at 10. Have fun you two!”

“We will!” You replied, waving as she headed out. 

You crouched down, onto your knees, looking Michael eye to eye, “Why don’t you go pick out a movie, okay?”

Micheal nodded, rushing into the living room, and grabbing the TV remote before flopping onto the couch and scrolling through the channels. 

Micheal was by far the easiest kid you cared for, he followed your instructions, never had a tantrum or fussed, and always seemed so happy when you were around. 

There had been rumors circulating around the neighborhood that made you hesitant about accepting the position. Everyone had heard about the deaths in the house, of course, but rumors were now spreading about how those nannies and sitters were actually murdered. However, after getting to know Micheal and Constance, you were glad you took the job. There was no way this sweet little boy could’ve hurt anyone. 

He may have had some odd interests, but he just seemed so innocent. 

“What movie did you pick?” You asked from the kitchen as the popcorn finished popping. 

“The Omen,” he answered. 

“Are you sure you want to watch that one? It’s pretty scary,” you warned. 

“I’m sure.”

You shrugged, curling up on the couch beside him with a big bowl of buttery popcorn. You didn’t mind his interests, no matter how strange they might be to others. In your opinion, watching a horror movie was way better than watching The Wiggles or whatever else kids were into these days. 

After a while, you grabbed the throw blanket from the back of the couch and covered your legs. Michael’s eyes were glued to the screen, but he managed to snuggle closer to you as you shared the blanket with him. 

You winced as the nanny jumped, the noose successfully snapping her neck. It had been a few years since you’ve watched this particular horror classic. Usually you weren’t so jumpy, but it took you by surprise. 

Michael shifted in his seat and looked at you. “It’s not his fault, right?” He asked in a small voice. 

You raised your brow, and sat up, grabbing the remote and turning the volume down. “What Michael?”

“Damien and the stuff that’s happening, it’s not his fault, right?”

You looked back at the TV screen and thought about it for a moment. It was an interesting question. Damien is the son of the devil, but he’s still a child after all, and children are innocent and still learning about right and wrong. The contradictory nature of Damien’s existence is part of what makes the film so captivating. Makes the viewer wonder about all the evil people in the world and where it all went wrong for them. 

How much of Damien’s circumstance was his fault? He didn’t ask to be born, he had no control over who his father was… Does he understand that his desires are evil? Is he compelled to act on these impulses without choice? Does he have free will?

You could feel Michael’s gaze on you as you mulled it over. His eyes examined every little feature and movement your face made. His small hands gripped the knees of his pants as anxiety built up within him as he waited for your answer. 

“It’s complicated, I think,” you said. “It’s not all his fault but some of it is.”

Michael laid back on the couch as he processed what you said. “I’d never hurt you, y/n.”

He didn’t want you to end up like the others before, they didn’t come back and he was fine with that, but he’d feel terrible if that happened to you. The thought of you being gone forever made him feel a lot of things, sad, angry, lonely… he would never hurt you. 

…

“Well, don’t you look nice,” Constance complimented as she opened the door and invited you in. “If you had other plans, dear, you didn’t have to come.”

You laughed, shaking your head, “I wouldn’t call being stood up plans.”

“His loss, Honey,” Constance reassured you, giving you a small pat on the arm. 

You had been waiting alone at the restaurant when Constance called you, you immediately accepted. You figured speanding time with Michael was better than going home alone to mope over some dumb guy anyways. 

“Where’s Michael?” You asked, surprised he hadn’t already bulldozed you with a hug. 

Michael peeked his head from around the corner, he was blushing bright red the moment he saw you. You never looked so pretty before. You were dressed up like a princess. 

You tilted your head and smiled, “Why are you being so shy, silly?” You knelt down with your arms wide open. 

Michael rushed over, looping his arms around you. 

“Sorry again about your date, dear,” Constance consoled you as she grabbed her coat. 

“I’ll be fine,” you laughed as she headed towards the door. “I’ve got Michael to cheer me up.”

He pulled away from you beaming, “I can do that.”

You smiled back at him and winked, “Why don’t we start our night with some ice cream?”

He nodded eagerly following you to the kitchen.

“So you were on a date?” Michael asked, hopping onto one of the stools at the breakfast nook. 

“Sort of,” you shrugged, getting ice cream out of the freezer and setting it on the counter to soften. “It’s not really a date when the other person doesn’t show up.”

“Is dating like getting married?” He inquired, swinging his legs back and forth. 

“No, not exactly,” you answered without missing a beat, juggling your conversation while opening the fridge and grabbing the chocolate syrup and whip cream. “Dating is more of a step towards getting married, people date to figure out if they want to marry the person.”

Michael nodded, “What do you do on a date?”

“Oh, all sorts of things,” you grabbed bowls from the cabinet. “Watch a movie, go out to dinner, walk in the park, just any activity where I can talk and get to know the other person.”

“Are we dating?” Michael asked with an earnest look. 

You paused, still holding the bowls, as you turned around to face him. The question caught you completely off guard. “What do you mean?” 

“Well, we do all those things together,” he explained. “We eat together, watch movies, play at the park, talk…”

You laughed, “you’re right, we do do all those things together.”

“So we’re dating?”

You sighed, fishing through the drawer for the ice cream scooper. “I’m sorry, sweetie, but we’re not.”

“Why not?” He asked, concern written all over his face. “Don’t you like me?”

“Of course I do,” you murmured, handing him a bowl and a spoon and ruffling his hair. “But when it comes to dating, you should pick someone that's the same age as you.”

“Grandma doesn’t,” he said bluntly. 

You bit your lip, trying hard not to laugh or smile, he wasn't wrong. You took a moment to think about your next words carefully. “I guess what I’m trying to say is that you have to be an adult.”

Michael sighed and nodded, picking at his food. He hated all those ‘when you're older’ things. “So will you date me when I’m an adult?”

“Sure, if you don’t mind dating an ugly old lady,” you teased. 

“Don’t say that,” he declared, his blue eyes fixated on you, full of determination. “You’ll always be beautiful.”

You smiled and kissed his forehead, “Thank you, Sweetheart.”

…

Michael was overjoyed, his prayers had been granted overnight. He had gone to bed wishing, begging, to be older, to be an adult. He was so desperate to be with you, he never wanted anything so badly. 

He stared at his reflection in the mirror, his fingers examining his older face, he turned his head side to side, wondering if you would still think he was cute. 

Constance was still so rattled from the shock of finding a full grown Michael asleep in his small bed, that she hadn’t been able to stop shaking all morning. 

Michael couldn’t wait to show you the new him. He bounced downstairs to find grandma, she needed to call you, invite you over right now so you could see. 

When he first asked, she made up an excuse saying you were too busy, but as days passed he began getting more and more irritable, throwing tantrums, whining and crying for you to come over. 

She disconnected the phone. That pushed him over the edge. He screamed, yelling that he hated her, while yanking the phone and cord off the wall. 

But she couldn’t risk it, couldn’t risk Michael calling you or you calling the house. 

Constance was worried for your well being, how could you accept what she couldn’t, if you refused him after what he did for you, how he grew up just for you, she knew he wouldn’t hesitate to end your life. In a strange way, you represented the last small piece of humanity that Michael had. It would be a shame if he snuffed it out. 

He couldn’t sleep, he was still so angry, why was grandma doing this to him. Why was she being so mean? He balled his fists, breathing fast. He didn’t want to listen to her anymore or follow her dumb rules or do anything she says…

Michael seemed to have blacked out after that, because the next thing he knew his hands were wrapped around his grandmother’s throat. He gasped, tears falling from his eyes as he finally let her go. 

He didn’t mean to. 

The next day Constance called the priest. She had no other alternatives. She had never in her life been so afraid. But when that fell through, and she saw the priest dead on the floor, she finally snapped. 

…

All morning you kept looking at your phone, thinking any minute it would light up and ring. When you hadn’t heard from Constance, you became concerned. Typically you watched Michael at least three days a week, if not more. But by the time the afternoon rolled around, and you still hadn’t heard a thing, you decided to call. 

You tapped your foot anxiously as you held your phone to your ear, but your stomach dropped when a robotic voice informed you that the line was no longer in service. 

Dropping the phone, you immediately bolted out the door. Fortunately, you lived nearby as you began to sprint towards their house. Your mind was racing, as you assumed the worst had happened. You prayed that they were both safe. 

You came to a sudden stop, as you stood across the street from their house, a young man emerged from the front door in a hurry. He seemed completely distraught, walking barefoot, tears streaming down his face, eyes bloodshot. 

You jogged towards him. “Are you okay?” You asked, voice laced with concern. 

He lifted his head at the sound of your voice. “Y/n?” The man gasped, immediately reaching out for you. 

You took a few steps back, the poor boy looked like you had just punched him in the gut. 

He started crying harder, “Don’t you recognize me?”

You narrowed your eyes, gently placing your hands on his cheeks, directing his face side to side, so you could get a look at him. He was beautiful, gorgeous even, with a sharp jaw, high cheekbones, and clear blue eyes. 

“Michael?” You whispered. Looking into his eyes, you knew it was him, even though it was impossible.

“Grandma’s mad at me,” he wailed, his hands clinging to your shirt as he buried his face against your shoulder. You wrapped your arms around him, stroking his back.

“Will you take care of me, y/n?” He sobbed. 

“Of course-“ you stopped talking as Constance came outside. 

Her face was hard and stoic as she watched you and Michael before she motioned for you to come into the house. 

“Let’s go inside,” you murmured, brushing his hair away from his eyes. 

At first Michael didn’t budge as he looked over his shoulder back at Constance. 

“It’s alright,” you encouraged him, taking his hand and walking back to the house. 

Constance forced a smile as she greeted you, “You’re taking this better than I did.” 

She gave Michael a cold look, who immediately looked down at his feet as he shuffled into the house.

Once inside, the reality of the situation sunk in as you sat across from a full grown Michael, who was sitting on the floor with his legs crossed. He stared up at you full of adoration. 

“So you’re older now…” you began. 

He beamed, “Yep! I did it for you.”

“You… did this for me?”

Michael nodded, his eyes still red from crying. 

“How?”

He shrugged, “I just wished for it really really hard. I never wanted anything more.” His face turned serious, 

“So what do you think?” 

“What do I think?” You repeated. You were still trying to figure out why he did this for you. You glanced at him and saw his hopeful expression. “I think… you look very handsome.”

“So you like it?”

“Of course, I do. You did it for me.”

The next day Constance invited you over. Michael was still in his room when you arrived. She seemed tired, distant, expressing that she wasn’t up to going out. 

“Y/n, dear,” Constance laid a hand on your shoulder. “Mind taking Michael out for a bit? Could do him some good to get out of the house.”

“Sure,” you nodded, before heading upstairs. Outside Michael's room you could hear the TV, the sound effects gave away that he was busy playing a video game.

“Hey Michael,” you said, leaning against the doorframe to his room. “Want to go out with me?”

“Like a date?” He perked up like a little puppy, dropping his video game controller on his bed. 

“Sure,” you laughed. You had never seen him move so fast as he scrambled to his closet and grabbed a pair of tennis shoes and a jacket, putting them on in record time. 

“I’m ready,” he said eagerly, taking your hand in his and practically raced down stairs with you stumbling behind him. “Bye Grandma!”

It felt odd, not in a bad way, just different. 

Michael was obviously adjusting to his older body. He wasn’t used to being so big or strong, and he was still behaving with the same amount of energy as a boy would, like holding your hand with all his might. 

He blushed as you explained that he had to loosen his grip a little because he was so strong now, but you still found his enthusiasm endearing. 

“So what would you like to do today?” You asked him. 

“Let’s go to the park, then have milkshakes,” he said animatedly. 

The two of you walked to the neighborhood park, taking a small stroll around the pond watching the ducks swim. Suddenly Michael bolted towards the playground, dragging you behind him. 

“The swings are open!” He shouted. 

“Michael,” you half laughed, half shouted, trying to keep up with him. 

“Come on,” he said, letting go of your hand and grabbing the swing chains. “I’ll push you!”

“Oh, I don’t know,” you said, embarrassed. 

“Please,” He rocked the swing side to side. “It’ll be fun!”

You shook your head as you finally relented, unable to resist his puppy dog eyes.

He grinned, holding the swing steady as you sat down. “Hold on tight,” he whispered in your ear before he started pulling the swing back. 

You giggled as you swung forward then back again, his hands catching you each time and pushing you higher and higher. Michael was busy enjoying himself, listening to you laugh as he pushed you harder, he forgot to pay attention to how hard he was pushing you and accidentally pushed you too hard. 

You fell forward, landing on your hands and knees. Hissing, you moved so you could sit properly. You bit your lip, tears forming at the corner of your eyes as you tried to bend your knee to get a better look. You had a large gash that stung.

“Y/n, I’m sorry,” he whispered, kneeling in front of you. Michael’s heart was hammering in his chest, he had never seen you upset before… your pain, your tears, hurt him more than the angry words his grandma had shouted at him yesterday. 

“I’ll be alright,” you said, mustering up a smile for him. 

Michael winced watching the blood drip down your calf. He thought about how the other nannies and sitters bled when they made him mad, they didn’t come back after that. Would you leave him now too? 

You scanned the area, hoping there was a bathroom or drinking fountain nearby so you could at least wash some of the blood off. 

“Here,” Michael said, taking a hold of your leg as he thought of a way to fix it. “I’ll kiss it better.” 

“You don’t have to-“

But he pressed his lips to your knee before you could stop him. The kiss lingered longer than the quick peck you had expected him to give. His eyes were closed, deep in concentration. Lifting his head, he licked the smear of blood off his lips. 

“All better,” he chirped. 

You ran your fingers over your knee, the cut was gone leaving your knee looked as good as new. “Michael, how did you…” 

You dropped the subject as you looked up at him, golden hair shining in the sunlight as he sat back in the grass. It seemed stupid to ask, healing your knee was probably easy compared to changing his age or any of the other strange things he had accomplished. 

“Can we go get a milkshake now you?” Michael yawned. “I’m hungry and tired.”

“Sure,” you replied, still dazed. 

He held out both of his hands to you, helping you up off the ground, and immediately laced his fingers with yours as he started leading the way. 

Michael insisted on sharing a milkshake with you, explaining he had seen couples doing that on TV. The two of you found a table near a window by the corner. 

“Want the cherry?” You asked Michael, using the tip of your straw to push it to his side. 

Right away he plucked it from the cup and popped it into his mouth with the exception of the stem. “Thanks,” he grinned, still chewing. 

“You’re very welcome,” you leaned forward taking a big sip. 

Michael bounced, “This has been the best date!”

You chuckled, “It really has been great.”

Out of nowhere, he leaned across the table and kissed your cheek. It was a quick and innocent little peck, but his face was beet red when he sat back down. You bit your lip thinking about how cute he was acting. 

Walking home, Michael smiled, a full genuine smile, his eyes lighting up as he gazed down at you. “I like being taller than you,” he laughed. 

You smiled back at him, your hand clasped together with his, swinging them between you. As you entered the house, you immediately noted how quiet it was. Something was wrong. 

“Constance, we're back,” you called out as you closed the door. You waited for a reply, but all there was was silence. 

“Michael,” you said softly, turning to him. “Wait right here, I’m going to go upstairs. Your grandma is probably just taking a nap.”

Michael watched you as you went upstairs, he didn’t understand why you seemed so distressed. He tried to wait like you had asked him to, but Grandma was probably just next door. She did that sometimes. 

He looked out the window towards the vacant house then back toward the direction you had gone. He could be back with Grandma before you’d even realize that he had left. 

“Grandma?” Michael called wandering into the large old house. He furrowed his brow, running towards the couch when he saw her. “Grandma?” 

His heart sped up when he saw her. 

“Grandma,” Michael crumbled to his knees. “Hey, wake up.” With shaky hands he held her. 

She didn’t move or breathe, her heart had stopped beating… Michael knew a dead body when he saw one, she was gone. This was all his fault, he drove her to this. There was something wrong with him. 

“I’m sorry,” he cried, hugging her lifeless body. “I’m sorry.”

“Oh God,” you covered your mouth as you finally found Michael and Constance. “Michael,” you stumbled towards him, immediately taking him in your arms and cradling him against you. 

“This is all my fault,” he sobbed, curling his knees to his chest, hands clutching your arm. “I’m a monster.” 

“No, you’re not a monster,” you soothed. “You didn’t do this.”

You rocked Michael in your arms, your eyes surveyed the living room, there was an empty pill bottle left discarded on the nearby coffee table along with a glass of liquor. You couldn’t understand why she would kill herself.

“I-I should call someone,” you said, trying to hold yourself together. 

“Don’t call the police,” a man’s voice advised seemingly out of nowhere. 

You snapped your head around and stared wide eyed at the dark haired man who just appeared out of nowhere. He was sitting in one of the arm chairs, legs crossed with relaxed posture. 

“They’ll just take Michael away. You don’t want that do you?” He asked you in a calm voice. 

You shook your head, your sweet Micheal had been through enough already, “Who are you? I thought this house was vacant.” 

The man blatantly ignored your questions and continued, “You should go pack Michael’s things, He’s going to be staying here with us for a while.”

Michael’s hands gripped you tightly. “Will you stay with me?” He croaked.

You could feel the man’s eyes on you, observing your reaction closely. Gently, you wiped Michael’s eyes, then tilted his head up. “Of course, I’ll stay with you.”

Michael sniffled, “Forever?”

You swallowed, glimpsing at Constance’s lifeless form then back to Michael. “Forever.”

The man stayed with Michael as you went next door. You felt like you were on autopilot as you folded his shirts and packed them into a duffle bag. 

Your life was about to change drastically, but you couldn’t refuse him. You couldn’t just abandon him when he needed you the most, especially not after the only family he had killed herself. 

You knew Michael was different, very different, but he still needed someone, someone that could accept and love him even with all the terrible and strange things that came with him… he needed you.

It didn’t take you long to piece together that Ben and the others in the house were ghosts, or perhaps they preferred spirits. 

Living in a haunted house took some getting used to. Michael adjusted faster than you did, you were secretly grateful that he wanted to share a room with you, so at least you weren’t alone at night. 

It was unnerving seeing them from the corner of your eye, only for them to disappear when you turned your head. Ben was the only one you had officially met so far, but you were aware that his family along with many others were trapped in the house. 

Michael quickly began to view Ben as a father figure. They spent a lot of time together playing games and having long conversations. 

You were happy that Michael was opening up to someone. From what you had gathered Ben was a psychologist, you hoped that he’d be able to help Michael, especially with the trauma of losing Constance. 

… 

You were doing laundry and other little chores around the house while Michael was busy with some father and son bonding with Ben. 

As you were getting clothes out of the dryer and into a wicker basket, you felt the hairs on the back of your neck stand up. Looking up, you saw a young man with blonde hair like Michael’s staring at you from the doorway. 

Clutching Michael’s yellow t-shirt, you stared back at the man, who then sneered and simply vanished. You stayed planted there for several seconds as you wondered who he was. 

“Don’t let him get to you,” a woman’s voice said gently. You whipped around to see a woman with long strawberry blonde hair. 

“He won’t do anything,” she explained with a half smile. “Probably more curious than anything else.”

You furrowed your brow, “Curious about what?”

“You,” she answered. “And about why you’ve stayed.” Her eyes traveled to the shirt in your hands. “Guess some of us are just surprised you’ve stuck around.”

“Because Michael’s different from everyone else?” you questioned.

“That’s one way to put it,” she sighed and leaned against the washing machine. “He’s… he acts differently around you. You mean a lot to him.”

Looking at her sorrowful expression, it seemed like there was something she else wanted to say. You jumped as a baby began to cry. 

“I have to go,” she said, excusing herself. 

You sighed, shaking your head, living with ghosts was like having a bunch of eccentric roommates sometimes. You dropped Michael’s shirt with the rest of clean laundry in the basket, then knelt down to lift it up. Walking into the living room, you found Michael and Ben. 

Michael sprung off the couch and darted towards you. 

“So what did you and Ben do today?” You chuckled. 

“We just talked,” he replied, taking the basket from you. You waved to Ben before you and Michael headed up stairs. 

“Oh, about what?”

Michael shrugged, “Just stuff.” He paused mid-step and cleared his throat. “You look really pretty today.”

You bit your lip, face heating up a bit. Despite all the compliments Michael gave you daily, he had this way about him that made you believe every little one, even on a day like this where you were dressed in just joggers and a tee. 

“Thank you, Michael.”

…

Ben was gone. 

Michael sat there between the bodies, crushed as another parental figure abandoned him. Questions ran through his mind. Why did everyone leave? What was wrong with him? How could he do these things?

Sniffling, his eyes widened as you stepped in. His pulse spiked and he began to panic. He didn’t hear you come back to the house.This wasn’t part of his plan, you weren’t supposed to see this. 

You were quiet, so quiet with a vacant look in your eye as you stared at all the blood on the floor. 

Ben, Tate, grandma had all yelled at him, they called him a monster or a freak or a coward, but you didn’t say a word. 

You had seen what he had done, seen the bodies for yourself. You looked at him with a sadness in your eyes that Michael couldn’t bear. You simply retreated back up to the room you and him shared. 

Tears spilled freely down his face as he sat on the floor. Michael had never been so scared in his life. Were you in there packing your belongings? Were you going to leave? What would he do without you?

That’s why he had to kill them in the first place, because he didn't want to be separated from you. There was no other way. The new owners would call the police once they found out you and him were living there, and the police would take him away from you.

Michael had noticed how stressed it had made you too. He could sense your worry, no matter how hard you tried to hide it. From the very moment the realtor took the for sale sign down, you and him both knew everything was at risk. 

He just wanted to keep that from happening, he was happy here with you, happier than he had ever been. So he killed the new owners and got rid of them for good, this was his home now. 

He curled into himself, hands over his head as he wailed. 

“Michael?” Your voice was so soft that he didn’t hear you at first when you returned. “Michael, you should change.”

He peeked up, surprised you came back. You kept your distance, not crossing the threshold as if there was an invisible barrier. “Y/n?”

“You should change out of that,” you said again, looking at the black latex suit he was in.

He wiped his eyes with the back of his hand. “Okay,” he nodded, slowly getting to his feet. 

Going into the bathroom, he noticed you had set out some clean clothes for him to change into. 

Even though you were waiting for him in the room, the fear of you abandoning him hadn’t left. Michael hadn’t expected it when his grandmother left him. Were you just waiting for an opportunity to leave him? Lull him into a false sense of security then abandon him when he least suspects it?

Michael shook his head, you wouldn’t do that. 

“She’s not going to leave,” he whispered to himself before he pulled the clean white t-shirt on and the pair of pajama bottoms you had picked out for him. 

You were sitting on the edge of the bed when he emerged from the bathroom. You weren’t acting like yourself and it worried him. He noticed you hadn’t moved a muscle since he went in, you had just been staring at your hands the whole time. 

Michael’s fingers curled and uncurled as he awkwardly stood there. Wishing he knew what to say or do to make things right. 

“I’m sorry,” he started suddenly, falling to his knees in front of you. “I just didn’t want to be taken away from you. I didn’t want to leave this house.” He took your hands in his, looking up at you with genuine concern.

You nodded, you were able to piece that much together. Michael was scared and he handled the situation the only way he could, the only way he believed would keep you and him together. It was just a lot to process. 

Michael was your sweet boy, you never would have believed he was capable of something so terrible, but what was even more frightening for you was how you seemed to just accept it so easily. You weren’t mad or upset at him. Logically, you should’ve wanted to be far away from him after seeing those bodies on the floor, but looking at his face, you still cared for him, loved him. 

“We should get some rest,” you suggested. 

Michael swallowed thickly, climbing into the bed beside you as you turned out the lights. 

He couldn’t sleep, he was afraid that if he closed his eyes you’d take the chance and leave him in the middle of night. You felt both of his hands grip the back of your nightgown as he pressed his forehead against the center of your back. 

His mind kept returning to the fact that you had seen the truth, what he was capable of. Why did things have to change?

“Michael?” You could feel him tremble against you as he started sobbing again. When he didn’t respond, you tried to sit up, but that only made him cry harder while his fingers curled tighter, trying to keep you from leaving. 

“Don’t leave me,” he whimpered. 

“I’m not going anywhere,” you promised. 

He finally loosened his grip. 

You rolled over onto your side. Laying face to face, you brushed away his tears. 

Even in the dark, Michael thought you were the most beautiful person in the world. Always so kind and loving, he wanted to keep you forever. 

“Come here,” you said, opening your arms to embrace him. He rested his head on your chest, listening to your heartbeat. 

“I’ve hurt people, not just the ones from earlier,” Michael admitted, swallowing thickly. “And I think I’m going to keep hurting people.”

Your fingers soothingly scratched his scalp as you held him close. He took in a deep breath, working up the nerve to finally ask the questions that were truly bothering him. 

“Can you still love me?” He asked in a small voice. “Even though I’ve done bad things?”

“I don’t think I could ever stop loving you,” you answered without pause. “It’s a little scary for me to think about, that’s all.”

“You’re scared of me?” He asked, hurt evident in his voice. 

“No, I’m not afraid of you,” you reassured him, rubbing his shoulder. “It’s just that loving someone this much is scary.”

“I love you the same way,” Michael explained. “I’ll never stop loving you, y/n.”

…

The house was unbearably warm.

The heat left you drained, barely able to lift a finger, even though you just woke up. You kicked the sheets off but remained in bed, even that small action left you feeling exhausted. 

You laid there, still, listening to the hoarse caws of the crows that seemed to appear overnight. They lingered around the house, circling it at night. 

“Y/n?” Michael called. You usually didn’t sleep in so late, it was almost the afternoon. 

You smiled weakly at him, “Morning.”

“Are you okay?”

“Just tired,” you stretched your arms over your head on the bed. “And warm.”

Michael didn’t seem bothered by the strange heat that seemed to smother you. The air from the basement all the way to the attic was hot, there was no escaping it. 

“Can you get me some water?” You croaked.  

Michael nodded, heading downstairs and quickly returning to you with a glass of ice water. You shamelessly drained the glass, droplets rolling down your chin and neck. 

“Thank you,” you murmured, handing him the empty glass, before falling back onto your pillow. 

He stood there for a moment, wondering if there was anything else he could do. You looked so miserable, strands of your hair clinging to your sweaty forehead, your nightgown hiked up to cool your legs. 

Going into the bathroom, he prepared a washcloth with cold water. The bed dipped as he sat next to you, tenderly he dabbed the washcloth over your face. You hummed appreciatively, extending your neck as he moved it lower. He stroked the cloth over your collarbone, then down closer to your chest. 

He watched it rise and fall, hypnotically, your skin looked so soft, so tempting. Ben had talked to him about these kinds of feelings, about men and women and romantic love. He had said this was the kind of talk all fathers should have with their sons. He has seen Michael wanting to be closer to you, his desires to feel your skin against his. Ben assured him that it was natural and a completely normal part of growing up. But Ben had also made it clear that there were lines Michael couldn’t cross, lines that if he didn’t follow, he would end up hurting you. 

Michael sighed, pulling his hand away. Folding the wash cloth, he laid it on your forehead before leaving. 

…

Michael headed downstairs when he heard the front door open. You were still in a deep sleep as he tiptoed out of the room. He paused, finding three uninvited guests were standing in the entryway by the staircase. 

“I am in the presence of my Lord,” the man gasped and bowed. The two women behind him followed in suit. 

“Who are you?” Michael asked, tilting his head and rubbing the back of his neck. 

“I am Anton LaVey, Black Pope of the Church of Satan,” the man introduced himself, then turned to his colleagues. “And there are my cardinals. I faked my death to prepare for this day.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Michael walked slowly down the steps. “What’s going on here?”

“We followed a dark start from the west,” one of the cardinals explained eagerly. “The signs were impossible to miss: the temperature in this house, a home built over the portal to Hell, and the crows worshiping from above.”

“The omens are complete,” the other one added. “You’re the chosen one.”

“The time has come to remove the scales from your eyes, to show you your true power,” Anton stated.

Michael smiled, full of excitement, “Alright, just make sure you’re quiet, y/n is sleeping.”

…

You woke up to the sound of hail falling on the roof. It frightened you at first. Instead of the typical soothing sounds of rain or hail, this was louder, more violent, like large stones crashing from the sky. 

You wondered if the storm was the source of the strange dreams you had all night, now you could only recall the screams from them. 

Slipping out of bed, you walked to the window drawing the curtains. The night sky was a strange color, dark red clouds hung above the house coupled with a full red moon. You watched the bizarre weather outside, red rain mixed with rock sized hail. The storm seemed to at least alleviate the constant heat in the house.  

Turning around, you noticed Michael’s absence from the bed. Wrapping a white sheet around your shoulders, you wandered downstairs to find him. Reaching the dining room, you found Michael with three strangers wearing black and red cloaks. 

There was blood on the table and floor, but no body. 

Michael beamed at you and offered you his hand, “y/n, I’ve got something to tell you.”

The Antichrist, it should’ve come as more of a shock, but with all the insane things that have happened lately, it made sense. It also should’ve changed how you felt, but it didn’t, Michael was still Michael. While there was no doubting the evil he was capable of, you still saw all the good, all the love. 

How could you hold it against him?

Michael laid there, eyes wide open as you slept beside him. He knew his mother was coming, that she planned on ending his life. 

The woman hadn’t bothered to speak to him, see him, and just like the rest of his supposed family, she was going to hurt him too. Sadly, he was no longer surprised by any of this. 

He could feel her approaching, a knife held tightly in her fist as she prepared to bring it down and end his life. Without having to move a muscle, Michael conjured up flames that ignited around Vivien’s feet. 

Her screams jolted you awake. Another spirit, the one you had briefly seen before, saved her while you tried to stop Michael. 

“She was going to kill me,” he argued. 

You saw the knife discarded on the floor for yourself. This house was no longer a safe place for Michael or yourself. The same day you and Michael left the old mansion. 

…

Living with Ms. Mead wasn’t what you had expected. It was surprisingly wholesome with meals shared at the dining table and family outings every weekend. If it wasn’t for the satanic altar, you’d probably forget that she was a satanist altogether. 

Ms. Mead treated you both well. Welcoming you into her home as if you and Michael were family. At first, you had been worried that she wouldn’t accept having you around, but she was just as warm and friendly with you as she was with Michael. 

“What do you think?” Michael asked as he emerged from the bathroom in a black t-shirt and black jeans. Ms. Mead had taken him shopping for clothes. Michael was excited to show you what they had picked out. 

You sat the nail polish on the nightstand as you sat up, giving Michael your full attention. 

“Black looks good on you,” you approved, looking him up and down. The outfit definitely suited him, much better than his old clothes. 

He smiled, obviously proud of his choices. “What were you doing?” He asked as he joined you on the bed, criss crossing his legs.

“I was just painting my toenails,” you shrugged. 

Michael gently touched your calf, his fingers tracing over your skin down to your ankle, while he admired your freshly painted toes. 

“Want me to paint yours?”

He yanked off his boots and socks, tossing them on the floor and causing you to laugh. You rearranged yourself so you were sitting on your knees. Michael’s pale boney feet rested on your thighs. 

“What color do you want?” You asked. 

“Black.”

He laid back on the bed, feet on the head board as he wiggled his toes while he waited for them to dry. 

“Read to me,” Michael requested in a whiny tone. “Please,” he added quickly as you lifted your brow.

You grabbed the worn book, opening it to where you left off, but before you started reading Michael interrupted you. 

“Here, lay next to me,” he offered, wiggling to the other side of the bed to give you room. 

You stretched out beside him, side to side, and started reading. It didn’t take long before Michael’s head was on stomach and his arm draped over your hips as he cuddled against you. He closed his eyes listening to the sound of your voice as it lulled him to sleep. 

You tucked the bookmark back into the book and sat it on the bed. Absentmindedly you ran your fingers through his hair. 

Over such a short time, he had changed so much, and not just physically, he was acting older, demonstrating maturity and restraint, although he still had his moments like this where he wanted to be held and babied. But, you figured, everyone had moments like this even if they never ask for it. 

You perked up when you noticed Ms. Mead standing in the doorway. How long has she been watching? 

“Let him sleep,” she said softly. 

Carefully you moved Michael and covered him with a blanket, then followed Ms. Mead into the kitchen. She had the tea kettle on the stove. 

“You really do love him, don’t you?” Ms. Mead asked, looking at you curiously. While she had been courteous towards you, she was curious about the true nature of your relationship to Michael. 

You tilted your head, wondering where this was coming from all of a sudden. 

“I’m just surprised,” she explained. “Not many people could accept him for what he is, even more so, someone who isn’t a follower of his father. But I’m glad to know that you truly care for him.” She motioned for you to have a seat at the table, and placed a cup of tea on a little saucer in front of you. 

You thanked her, before gently blowing on the hot cup and taking a sip. 

“He obviously adores you, which is why I allowed you to come with him,” she continued, taking her seat across from you with her own cup. “Guess I just feel protective of him already, wanted to see for myself if you were just stringing him along.”

You laughed slightly and shook your head, “I know what you mean, I was worried about you too. But you treat him just like a mother would, and I know he loves you for it.”

You and Ms. Mead smiled at each other while you finished your cup of tea. Your smile grew wider as a sleepy Michael slowly staggered into the kitchen. 

He rubbed the sleep from his eyes, “Can we have pancakes for dinner?”

“Of course, dear,” Ms. Mead obliged. 

…

Michael had been arrested, leaving you a complete mess waiting at the station with Ms. Mead. The police 

refused to let you see him no matter how much you begged and pleaded. 

You were sitting in the lobby, staring at the assholes who wouldn’t let you see Michael, when a man dressed in a fine suit with a black hat came in, he strode right past the officers and straight to the holding cells with one of the guards leading the way. 

A few minutes later the well dressed man and Michael were heading directly to the exit. You immediately followed them out. 

You cupped Michael’s cheek, thumb caressing the red swollen mark by his eye. “Did they do that to you?”

“It doesn’t hurt too much,” he reassured you, placing a hand on your waist. 

Ariel cleared his throat, standing next to a black vehicle, “Michael it’s time for us to leave.” His gaze landed on you, a small sneer forming on his lips. 

Michael nodded, opening the car door for you. 

Ariel’s eyes went wide, “I’m afraid she can’t come with us. Our school is exclusively for warlocks.”

“Then I won’t be going,” Michael stated flatly, slamming the car shut.  

Ariel’s jaw dropped, “I saved you… I’m offering to take you to a place where you can flourish… where you can reach your full potential. You’re going to throw that all away for some woman?”

Michael narrowed his eyes. “I’m not leaving her, ever,” he stressed. 

Ariel scowled, grinding his teeth, he was considering using magic to force Michael in the car, but if Michael truly is the Alpha, like he suspects, then it would be suicide. His eyes darted to you, if he attempted to do anything to you, it would be safe to assume that the consequences would be even worse than death. 

“It’s not like you’ll never see her again. A boy’s school just isn’t the right place for a young lady to be,” Ariel reasoned. 

“The only place for her is with me,” Michael said, raising his voice. The two men stared at each other, it was clear that Michael wasn’t going to budge on the matter. 

“Fine!” Ariel relented, yanking the car door open and getting in. It wasn’t going to be easy to get others to go with this foolishness, but he couldn’t afford to let the Alpha slip through his fingers. 

Michael pulled the door open and waited for you to slide into the backseat before he scooted in after you. He placed his hand over yours, possessively, eyes fixated on Ariel as cold anger radiated off of him. 

The school wasn’t what you had expected. The underground structure was large and warm, but despite the size and construction, you couldn’t help but compare it to a cave. Already, you missed fresh air and sunlight as you followed Ariel, Michael still holding your hand for comfort. 

When Ariel introduced Michael to the group, he didn’t say a thing about you, just sort glazed over the fact that you even existed despite the puzzled gazes of the male students and staff. 

After a short tour, you and Michael were led to the room you both would be sharing in. Once inside, Ariel finally addressed you, giving you a few simple rules, as he put it, to follow. 

You were never to wander the school without an escort. You had to keep your distance from the other students and take your meals at different times than everyone else. Finally you had to wear a uniform, it was similar to the boy’s uniform, but instead of slacks, you had a full length skirt. 

Ariel left the two of you to get settled in and gathered the others in his office to explain the situation. 

“So,” John Henry mocked. “Our supposed Alpha, the one who will overthrow The Supreme and lead us to the top, can’t be without his little girlfriend?”

Ariel huffed, “I understand the girl is an inconvenience, but she’s just a minor obstacle. Michael won’t need her now that he’s here with his brothers.”

“Doubt it,” John Henry muttered, taking a quick puff of his cigarette. “Did you see the way he looks at her? She practically walks on water in his eyes.”

“We just need to separate them, wean him off her slowly,” Ariel explained. “Then he’ll discard her.”

“I don’t know,” Behold said, shaking his head, “Love and devotion is a powerful thing.”

John Henry rolled his eyes, “Right, because the 4 of us know what that’s like… none of us have ever cared about anyone but ourselves.”

…

You helped Michael straighten his bow tie, then brushed his hair out of his face. 

“Perfect,” you chirped, taking a step back to admire how handsome he looked in his school uniform. 

He smiled, fixing his lapel before his hands ran down the front of his jacket, smoothing out the wrinkles. “Ariel and the others are expecting me,” he started. “But they haven’t told me what we’re doing.”

It’s been only a month since your arrival, but from what you had gathered, Michael took to magic like a duck takes to water. Everyday he surprised you with a new trick or spell. Just the other day he surprised you with a beautiful white rose turning the petals pitch black right before your eyes. 

“I’m sure whatever it is, you’ll be amazing.”

“Wish they’d let me bring you,” he muttered, pouting a little as he looked at his reflection. 

You shook your head, “I’ll be right here, waiting for you.”

Michael brought your hand to his chest, Ariel had been keeping him so busy with classes and studying that he felt like he barely had time for you lately. 

He didn’t appreciate being treated like a fool. He knew what his ‘brothers’ were up to, trying to keep him busy as if he’d just forget about you because he has homework. None of them could ever perceive the depths he’d go for you, hell, not even Michael fully knew how far he’d go to keep you by his side. 

Grudgingly, he released your hand, he didn’t want to have to listen to some lecture about tardiness from Ariel. And knowing Ariel he’d figure out a way to put all the blame on you, while making some snide comment about women and their inability to be punctual. The whole battle of the sexes between the warlocks and the witches was getting old. 

Later that day, Michael returned to you with a bloody nose and his body completely drained of energy. You rose from your seat at the desk as he collapsed on the bed still dressed. 

First, you went to the adjoining bathroom, retrieving a damp washcloth. Sitting on the edge of the bed, you gently dabbed the dried blood from his face. 

“How did the meeting go?” You asked. “What did they want?”

“To evaluate me,” he explained, his eyes half lidded. “I passed,” he smiled weakly. 

“I’m so proud of you,” you said, scooting you to the end of the bed and undoing the buckles on his shoes, before slipping them off his feet.

“Thank you,” he whispered, closing his eyes and snuggling against his pillow. 

…

You watched Michael, his body was completely tense, stockstill, except for the hand that was drawing rapidly without pause. It was like he was in a trance, listening to a voice that you couldn’t hear.

Michael couldn’t let the witches leave. Ariel and the others were useless, unable to convince the council, but Michael could, he would prove to them just how powerful he is. 

He gasped suddenly, taking you by surprise. Looking down, he admired his work, the Hotel Cortez, the gaping mouth of hell. 

Michael turned to face you, “I have to leave, but I won’t be gone long.” He smiled triumphantly, “I found a way to show them I’m the Alpha, that I’m the next Supreme.”

It was easy for him, of course, like taking a casual stroll through the park. One of the benefits of being the Antichrist, he figured, having dominion over hell and all evil places born from it. 

First he rescued Queenie, freeing her from the hotel, then they made a trip to Madison Montgomery’s personal hell. With his proof in tow, he returned to the school. 

Watching Cordelia pass out from the shock brought him more satisfaction than he anticipated, but hearing her admit that he could be the next Supreme was even sweeter. 

He stood there holding his head high with you at his side. While Cordelia addressed the group, sharing her vision. It was ironic that a vision warning her of the end, was the final straw, finally convincing her to allow him to attempt the Seven Wonders. 

“In two weeks' time, at the rise of the blood moon, you will take the test of the Seven Wonders,” she announced, eyes locked with Michael’s. “That is, if you still want to.”

Everyone turned to face him, awaiting his decision. He glanced at you, squeezing your hand tightly before letting it go as he approached Cordelia. 

“I do.”

Myrtle Snow knitted her brow, it hadn’t escaped any of their attention that there was a woman on the side of the warlocks. 

“My dear,” she began, getting your attention. “Why are you here? You’re not a witch, are you?”

“I’m not,” you shook your head with a polite smile. 

“She’s with me,” Michael stated firmly, hands clasped behind his back as his gaze pierced Myrtle’s. 

“Of course, he’s got a girlfriend,” Madison rolled her eyes. 

Cordelia inhaled deeply as she returned to the matter at hand. “No male has ever made the attempt,” she warned, redirecting the conversation to the matter at hand. “And if you succeed, you will be the next Supreme, and it will change everything.”

On the cusp of the blood moon, the warlocks gathered to celebrate Michael. He almost threw a fit when Ariel informed him that you weren’t permitted to attend, adding that attendance for the ceremony was strictly warlocks. 

Ariel’s hands balled into fists as you talked Michael down, convincing him that for this type of occasion it was polite to respect tradition. 

Ariel was displeased that his plan wasn’t working. Michael’s attachment to you was still strong, the same as it was when he first arrived at the school. What good would it be to have an Alpha that bent to the will of a woman?

Michael insisted that tomorrow night you were present for the Seven Wonders, going as far as threatening to not perform if you weren’t there. 

When Ariel finally relented, Michael followed him downstairs for the ceremony. 

John Henry fled after the blessing. The following day when the witches had arrived to observe Michael’s abilities, John Henry still hadn’t returned. None of the other warlocks questioned his absence, instead they were focused on the daunting task at hand, hoping Michael could accomplish what no warlock had ever done before. 

Michael passed each test with ease to the dismay of the witches and to the satisfaction of the warlocks. 

Telekinesis, Concilium, Transmutation, Divination, Pyrokinesis, Vitalum Vitalis… Michael made them look like child’s play. With each challenge Michael impressed you more and more, accomplishing magic that you had never imagined. His eyes would lock with yours and he’d smile triumphantly after each task as you cheered and congratulated him with the rest of the warlocks. 

Descensum was the final test and the most perilous. Michael was the only one who didn’t seem worried about the outcome. 

Unexpectedly, Cordelia added an additional condition, Behold was the first to object, the others soon followed. She requested for Michael to retrieve someone from the depths of hell, someone who failed this exact test.

“That’s impossible. Those who don’t return from Descensum are gone forever,” Behold defended. “Property of the underworld.”

“No other Supreme’s been made to this, ever,” Baldwin added. “This is not only unfair, this is suicide.”

“Enough,” Ariel spoke up with some urgency. “Cordelia, I need a word.” The Supreme and the Grand Chancellor retreated into his office for a private discussion. 

You tugged on Michael’s sleeve to get his attention, then guided him to the corner furthest from everyone in the room. 

“What is it?” He asked gently, immediately noting the anxious look on your face. 

“This sounds dangerous,” you started, fingers clutching his jacket sleeve tighter. “And now they’re making it even harder…”

He stepped closer to you, his hands cupping your face. “I can do this.”

“But what if you get trapped there like that other girl,” you whispered. “I don’t want to lose you.”

“That’s not going to happen. I’m stronger than she was,” Michael assured you. “Trust me.” He dried your eyes.

Taking your hand in his, he led you towards Ariel’s office. The doors opened revealing Cordelia and Ariel inside. 

“It’s okay,” Michael smiled. “I’ll get your friend back.”

Returning to the music room, Michael prepared for the final test. 

“Deduce me in tenebris vita ad extremum it salutaret inferi,” he chanted laying on the floor. You were right beside him, on your knees, while everyone else stood in a circle around him. “Deduce me in tenebris vita ad extremum it salutaret inferi, Descensum.”

You stayed seated by Michael as his eyes closed and his spirit descended to the underworld. The others got comfortable, finding seats and idly conversing with each other. 

Time seemed to slow down as you waited with bated breath for him to come back. The thought of losing him scared you more than anything ever had. Your whole life revolved around him.

Michael gasped, drawing in a deep breath as he sat up immediately. You pulled him into a tight hug, relieved that he returned to you. His energy obviously spent as he rested against you like a rag doll. 

The others gathered around. The witches automatically taking note that Misty hadn’t returned. 

“Well that’s that,” Madison said, crossing her arms. “C'est la vie.”

“This was not a fair test,” Ariel objected, concerned more with having lost the opportunity for a male Supreme than the harrowing task Michael had just been through. 

“What happened?” Cordelia asked. “Where’s Misty?”

Michael gave her a sideways glance, his face partially resting on your shoulder as you held him close, he looked at her disinterested before he buried the rest of his face in the crook of your neck.

“Isn’t it obvious, darling?” Myrtle spoke up. “She’s right where she’s been.”

Suddenly dust manifested in the form of a woman’s body. Cordelia fell to her knees as Misty was revived. 

As the witches tended to their sister, the warlocks helped a weary Michael off the floor. He leaned against the table for support, still catching his breath from his recent excursion to hell. He reached out for you, placing his hands on your waist, as you stood between his legs with his head on your stomach, he drew comfort just by being near you. 

Michael straightened up as he felt Misty’s eyes upon him, his hands still lingering on your waist. His jaw tensed, noting her fearful expression. But before Misty could say anything, Cordelia stumbled back and her nose began to bleed.

“Oh my God,” Cordelia whispered. 

Misty went straight to her side, “What’s happening?”

“What always happens when a new Supreme rises,” Ariel interjected. 

“The old one fades away,” Behold explained. 

“We demand what’s ours,” Ariel added. 

Myrtle scoffed, “You’re a pompous ass.”

Michael stepped forward, an air of confidence and power about him. “I did everything you asked,” he started. “I descended into Hell, and I did what you couldn’t. I brought her back. I passed the Seven Wonders. Unless you want to add another one?” He challenged. 

“No,” Cordelia answered. “There can be no doubt. You are the next Supreme.” She collapsed to the ground, losing consciousness again. 

…

The staff and other students were beaming with pride over the accomplishments of their brother. Michael was elated, he was one step closer to fulfilling his purpose. 

In celebration of the return of Misty Day and the rise of a new Supreme, everyone gathered in the music room. While you were on your way to join the rest, Ariel stopped you. 

“Y/n,” He called. 

“Grand Chancellor,” you greeted.

He smiled, but it was obviously forced just like the tone of his voice, too pleasant. “I was hoping to have a moment of your time.”

You raised your brow, “I suppose.”

“We’re all so proud of Michael and what he has achieved,” he began, hands clasped in front him. “It’s truly a major turning point for our kind, to finally rise out of the shadow of our counterparts, the witches.”

“Yes, I’ve heard,” you muttered, hearing music play from the room and a woman singing.

“It has been such a struggle to get to this point,” he stressed.“It would be a great setback for warlocks should Michael be unable to focus on his duties as Supreme.”

“I’m not sure what you’re getting at,” you took a step back.

Ariel sighed, losing his patience, “You are a distraction. You are not the person Micheal needs to concern himself with, you’re not a warlock or a witch, you’re just some girl.”

“But I-“

“Don’t you see,” he interrupted you, getting heated. “He’s with his people now, he no longer needs you.”

You closed your mouth as his words sunk in. Maybe he was right. You hated to admit it, even just to yourself, but it was as if he was speaking your own fears out loud. You weren’t sure how you fit into all this, and for the last couple of months, you worried that Michael truly didn’t need you. 

Standing on the interior balcony, Michael’s eyes narrowed as he watched Ariel enter the music room late. Michael had been waiting for you to join him but you were nowhere in sight.

The two warlocks nodded in acknowledgement at each other as Michael waited a few moments longer, he could care less about the performance taking place below. Concerned about your tardiness, he went to find you. Ariel shook his head in disappointment as he watched Michael leave. 

Michael headed upstairs and entered your room. “Are you alright?” He asked.

“I’m fine,” you answered, taking a seat on the bed and mustering a smile for Michael.

He could tell you were lying, you were visibly upset and on the verge of tears. “Don’t lie to me,” he said firmly. 

“Michael,” you started, your eyes finally meeting his. Looking up at him you couldn’t help but think of all the things he had accomplished lately, developing his powers, passing all these tests, he was doing so many great things, so why were you here? “Do you still need me?”

“Of course, I do,” he responded without pause. He then shook his head. “Even if I didn’t need you, I want you.”  He wondered where all this was coming from, was this because he wasn’t spending enough time with you? Was Ariel’s idiotic plan affecting you?

Michael sat across from you at the desk. “Are you thinking about leaving?” 

“I don’t want to leave,” you said softly. “But are you sure I’m not distracting you?”

“Is this Ariel’s doing? Did he say something to you?” Michael pursed his lips, jaw clenched. The Grand Chancellor was really pushing his luck. Michael figured it might be necessary to remind him who was the Alpha, the future Supreme.

Getting to his feet, his brow lowered as he thought about what to do. His hands curled into fists that were shaking out of anger. 

“Michael,” you pleaded, grabbing his arm and pulling him towards you. “Stop, please.”

“He wants you to leave me,” he snapped angrily. “I won’t let that happen.”

You rushed after Michael as stormed out of the room. The sliding black doors of Ariel’s office slammed open with a flick of Michael’s wrist. 

“Michael-“ Ariel started but was immediately flung to the wall. 

Your eyes widened, watching as Ariel’s hands grasped at his neck, his nails puncturing his skin as he scratched while desperately gasping for air. His legs were kicking and flailing about as he was being suffocated. 

“Michael,” you whispered, taking his hand in yours. “Micheal, stop,” you begged.

He looked at you from the corner of his eye.

“I’m not going anywhere,” you assured him. “And Ariel finally understands.” You looked at Ariel who managed to nod. “See,” you said, rubbing his arm. “You got your point across.”

Ariel fell to the floor, landing on his hand and knees, panting. 

“What’s going on in here?” Behold questioned wandering into the office. 

“Nothing,” Ariel croaked, slowly rising to his feet.

Behold didn’t look convinced. He was figuring out that Michael couldn’t be trusted, wasn’t what he had presented himself to be. John Henry was missing and the witches had their suspicions as well. 

“Michael lost control, just for a moment, he’s been under a lot of stress,” you explained calmly. “He’s due for a break.”

Behold lifted his brow, Michael just looked straight up pissed in his opinion. “Alright,” he muttered, the last thing he needed was for Michael to turn that anger on him. He stood there watching as you and Michael left, before asking Ariel if needed anything. 

Returning to your room, Micheal immediately embraced you, hugging you from behind as he buried his face into your hair. You two stood there for several minutes, his arms holding you firmly in place. 

“I should speak to my father,” he murmured finally. 

You nodded. 

Michael’s hold loosened, “I should go alone.” He sighed, touching your hair gently. “I won’t be gone long.”

…

When the witches, Bubbles and Myrtle, arrived, you were tasked with entertaining them until Ariel and Bladwin returned. They had no trouble making themselves at home while you served champagne and Myrtle played the theremin. 

When Ariel and Baldwin entered the music room, the two witches insisted that you join them and the warlocks for the dinner they had prepared. 

“Bubbles, you’ve exceeded your promise,” Ariel complimented. “This is a meal fit for a Supreme.”

She chuckled, “Oh, thank you so much.”

It truly was quite a spread, platters of food you probably couldn’t even pronounce, sat on the table presented in a most lavish way. It seemed excessive that there was so much food for just 5 people. 

“Where is our dear Michael?” Myrtle questioned looking at you. “I was hoping he could join us.”

“In the wilderness,” Baldwin answered for you, with a hint of disbelief in his voice. “Literally. Michael has decided that he needs to be completely alone.”

“I’m surprised you’re not with him dear,” Myrtle stated, her eyes still on you. “The two of you seemed attached at the hip.” 

You could feel Ariel watching you closely. “He just needed some time to himself,” you shrugged with a smile. 

“Cordelia had a similar awakening,” she shared with you, before offering Ariel more wine. 

You listened attentively to Myrtle’s story about the amazing little shop in Madrid where she attained the bottle of wine. You didn’t know much about wine, but from what you gathered from her story, this was most likely the nicest and most expensive wine you’d ever try in your life. 

“This has been such a delight,” Myrtle announced. “I knew, if we could dine together, we could find commonality and, dare I say, friendship.”

“Oh, my. It’s getting late,” she added with a slight yawn.

“Oh. It is.” Ariel agreed, laughing weakly. “Very late. But I feel like we’ve finally gotten to know each other.”

“Oh, don’t bother,” Bubbles said, gesturing to the full table. “We’ll clear everything up.”

You offered to stay and lend a hand with cleaning to the surprise of Bubbles and Myrtle. How a kind girl like yourself wound up with someone like Michael, seemed like such a cruel fate. 

During dinner, Bubbles had already determined that you were innocent. You weren’t involved with John Henry’s death or the plot to overthrow their coven and kill the witches. Seemed that Michael kept you out of all the seediness and corruption happening around you. 

“Thanks again for dinner,” you said, clearing the plates from the table. “You really are a fantastic chef.”

“I’m a woman of many talents,” Bubbles boasted. 

“How did you become involved with our future Supreme?” Myrtle inquired, taking a sip of her glass of wine. 

“I’ve known him for a long time,” You answered vaguely, but Bubbles could see right through you, she could see directly to the feelings you harbored for Michael. 

They watched as you carried the dishes into the kitchen. Bubbles sighed, “Poor girl’s only crime is falling for the bad guy.”

“Suppose we can’t hold it against her,” Myrtle commented. “We've all been there at some point or another.”

Bubbles chuckled, “You’re right, but few can say they’re in love with the devil himself.”

“It’s terribly romantic, isn’t it?” Myrtle mused, tilting her head. She sighed, “Well, what else did you hear?”

“They murdered one of their own,” Bubbles answered in a serious tone. “And now they mean to murder all of us.” 

“Well, it’s perfectly clear,” Myrtle continued, swirling her wine glass. “It’s kill or be killed.”

…

“Ariel Augustus. Baldwin Pennypacker. For the murder of your fellow warlock, John Henry Moore, and conspiring to commit treason against this coven, I, Cordelia Goode, on behalf of this council, sentence you to death by fire.”

The coven guards doused Ariel and Baldwin in gasoline.

“Our people have long stood by an agreement that no witch may kill a condemned warlock,” Cordelia added. “Only your brother may light the flame. I do not intend to break that tradition today.”

John Henry emerged to the surprise of Ariel and Baldwin, gracefully, striding between the stakes to join the witches at Cordelia’s side. 

He scanned the area, eyes moving from stake to stake. He furrowed his brow, “Where’s his girlfriend?” He turned to Cordelia, “We need to destroy her. It’s the only way we can really hurt him.”

“We’re not burning an innocent girl on the stake,” Cordelia defended. “She wasn’t involved in your murder, Bubbles verified that already.”

John Henry shook his head, they were all blind to the facts, he didn’t want to kill her, but he could see it just like he could see what Michael truly was. “She’s his weakness…” he argued. “I’ve seen how he is with her, he’d fall apart.”

“No,” Cordelia stated firmly. 

John Henry tsked, snatching one of the gasoline cans, dumping the contents all over Ms. Mead. 

“Any last words?” He asked, returning to Cordelia’s side as he faced his brothers and murderer. “Ah, right,” he teased, motioning to his mouth. 

“You think death is a punishment?” Ms. Mead shouted. “I do not fear the fire. It cleanses me, as it will cleanse this world. I’ve seen the end. I bear witness to the darkness.” 

She looked up to the blue sky, “Father! Take me in your arms. Your kingdom is nigh.”

John Henry and Cordelia shared a look. She nodded to him signaling that it was time. With a wave of his hand, John Henry ignited the torches. The guards, then, set the lit torches at the feet of the condemned. In a matter of seconds flames engulfed Ariel, Baldwin, and Ms. Mead. 

…

Michael’s hand cautiously reached out towards the last corpse, after he identified the first two as Ariel and Baldwin. He stumbled backwards, hands shaking, as he saw his Ms. Mead being burned alive. 

An emotional and raw scream erupted from him, as pain and sadness filled him. With a hand over his chest, he wailed, it felt as if he couldn’t get any oxygen to his lungs and like his heart was being constricted by a snake, its tail coiling tightly around it as if it was a weak little mouse.

“It’s over,” Cordelia said, appearing behind him. “We know who you are.”

Michael turned to face her. 

“Your allies are all dead,” she announced. “You failed.”

“I’ve already proven that I can defy death. I’m just gonna bring her back,” Michael retorted. “And when I do, my Ms. Mead will stand by me as we watch you die.”

“You can certainly go to Hell, but you won’t find her there,” Cordelia warned. 

“What have you done?” 

She explained that Ms. Mead’s soul was hidden away and that the spell was one only she could break. As Michael realized that he’d never see Ms. Mead again, he dropped to his hands and knees. 

“You’re alone,” she added.

“I’m never alone. I have y/n and I have my father,” he snapped. 

“That poor girl deserves better,” Cordelia said coldly. She took several steps toward Michael. “And where is your father? Why did he let this happen?”

Michael looked up at her as she knelt down. 

“You don’t have to follow this path your father laid out for you. You can write your own destiny. You can still turn away. There’s humanity in you. I see it,” she stood back up and offered Michael her hand. “If you come with me, maybe we can find it. Together.”

He accepted her hand, but aggressively moved closer, his eyes burning with hatred towards the witch. “Somehow, some way, I am gonna bring her back. And then I’m gonna kill every last one of you.” 

As the threat left his lips. A thought crossed Cordelia’s mind and images flashed in Michael’s head. His eyes widened, staring at Cordelia in disbelief. 

The witches had revived John Henry, back from the dead, and he and Behold were returning to the school. Michael’s hands began to tremble, releasing Cordelia’s hand, as he could hear the words John Henry had spoken to her during the execution. John Henry had made threats towards you, expressed that he wanted to dispose of you to hurt Michael, to stop him. 

Michael made up his mind at that moment, he wouldn’t allow John Henry to have the opportunity, he’d kill them all to protect you. He couldn’t believe they’d stoop so low, would the witches be the next to try?

Without time to waste, Michael left towards the school. 

He sat there panting, the lifeless corpses of his brothers laying all around him. Michael had no one except for you, he had no Ms. Mead to guide him, he had no support with his magic anymore, no followers. And the witches were still a threat. 

He felt like he was crumbling beneath the weight of it all, but he had to make sure you were safe. He may have been able to keep you safe and massacre the warlocks, but what if the witches went after you next?

Taking in a deep breath, Michael stared up at the staircase towards the direction of your room. He would do anything to keep you safe. 

Rising to his feet, he slowly made his way to you. 

“Michael?” You asked, sitting up on the bed as he entered the room.

He wished that he could just crawl into bed next to you. But there was so much that needed to be done. He had to kill the witches, avenge Ms. Mead, and fulfill his purpose. 

He crouched down beside the bed in front of you. “The witches, they killed Ms. Mead,” he said quietly, voice hoarse from screaming. 

“Oh, honey, I’m so sorry,” you whispered, leaning down to embrace him. 

Michael placed his hands on your shoulders, pulling away from you a bit, he wanted to get a better look at you. He stared at your face, committing every detail to memory. 

“I need to put you under a spell,” Michael started to explain. “I have to hide you from anyone who’d want to hurt you.”

You furrowed your brow as his words sunk in. He was going to leave you behind. Your lips quivered as you started to cry. 

“Who’s… who's going to take care of you?” You hiccuped, cupping his face, your thumbs gently wiping the tears from the apple of his cheeks. 

Picturing Michael alone, without anyone to turn to, no one to make sure he was okay, was literally breaking your heart. You couldn’t leave him, you couldn’t let him do this. You had promised to stay with him forever. 

He placed his hands over yours. “I’ll be fine,” he said, trying to put on a brave face. “But I can’t lose you too, I can't… you're all that I have left.”

Your shoulders shook as you cried harder. 

“I’m going to take care of you this time,” Michael promised. “I’ll figure it out and then we’ll never have to be apart. You’ll be at my side forever.”

Micheal closed the distance between you and him, his lips finding yours with ease. His first real kiss was an emotional kiss goodbye, one in which he desperately wanted to convey his devotion for you. Your eyes fluttered shut, his hands squeezed yours tighter, you pressed your lips to his tenderly, returning the kiss. 

He casted his spell before pulling away, and watched as you fell into a deep sleep like a princess in a fairy tale. As an extra precaution he wiped your memories as well. 

***Present***

“It’s alright,” Michael comforted, tucking your head under his chin as he wrapped his arms around you.

It was a lot to take in at once, an entire lifetime coming back to you in a matter of seconds. Michael waited patiently, hand drawing circles on back, as you composed yourself. Having you back made him feel whole again, the one constant in his life. He was never letting go of you again. 

“What is it?” He asked as you sat up and cupped his cheek. 

“You’ve changed,” you whispered, gazing at him. He looked older, more mature and refined, his long golden hair somehow made him even more handsome than you remembered. He now exuded confidence that almost bordered on conceitedness. 

He lifted his brow, “Have I?”

You nodded, causing him to smirk, you were always so honest. 

“In what ways?” He teased, titling his head, and holding your hand to his face. “Am I more attractive now?”

You shook your head, laughing lightly, “Not sure how you managed it, but yes you’re more handsome than I remember.”

“So,” he murmured lowly. “You like the new me?” Michael turned his head and kissed the palm of your hand. “Tell me,” he said against your skin. 

“Didn’t we have this conversation earlier?” You questioned. 

“But that was before you remembered,” he challenged, looking at you from the corner of his eye. 

“My answer is still the same, everything, I like everything about you.” 

“I believe you,” He closed his eyes, inhaling a deep breath, and then opening them again. He examined you for a moment, just like before it was as if he could see right through you. 

“You haven’t changed,” he said thoughtfully. “It’s comforting.” His lips tickled your fingertips as he returned your hand to you. 

Michael may not have the typical image of home as most, but he suspected that being reunited with you, is what it felt like to come back home. 

He leaned forward, hands firmly on your thighs, as his lips lightly grazed against yours. You felt the side of his nose caress yours, your hands slowly raised up from your lap and clung to him. 

Suddenly he groaned in frustration as the bedroom door opened. 

“Ladies, I’m a little busy right now,” Michael muttered, breaking the kiss as he glanced at Ms. Venable and Ms. Mead who entered the room uninvited. 

Ms. Venable gave you a cold look, she couldn’t say she was surprised to see you here. She long had her suspicions, this only confirmed them. “This won’t take long,” She addressed Michael, walking further into the room. 

Michael sighed, exasperatedly, his touch leaving your form as he straightened up and turned his chair to give Ms. Venable his attention. “What’s this?”

“We’re making the selections now, Mr. Langdon,” Ms. Venable stated, standing tall across from Michael. “And I’m afraid that neither of you made the cut.”

Michael bursted out laughing. “I’m sorry, I wanted to let you have your moment, but I just couldn’t hold it in,” he gestured to himself. 

“You think this is funny?” Ms. Venable pressed, obviously unamused. 

“I think I’m impressed, Ms. Venable,” Michael 

“I wasn’t sure you had it in you.”

Gracefully, Michael rose to his feet. “You passed the test. You’re perfect for The Sanctuary.”

“Mrs. Mead,” Ms. Venable ordered. 

You scrambled off the bed, moving in front of Michael, the moment Ms. Mead drew the gun out from her jacket. You didn’t understand what was going on, or why Ms. Mead was following Ms. Venable’s orders. 

Michael looked at you fondly, with a slightly amused expression. His sweet y/n ready to protect him, to defend him, even knowing that he could literally kill people with a snap of his fingers. 

Of course, you weren’t in any real danger. He knew Ms. Mead would never hurt you, just like she was programmed to never hurt him. He placed his hands on your shoulders. 

“I wouldn’t do that,” he warned Ms. Venable before glancing towards Ms. Mead and giving her a silent command.

“Ms. Mead,” Ms. Venable repeated, her tone irritated as she turned to face her co-conspirator. 

Ms. Mead, with some unwillingness by the look of her face, went from pointing the gun at Michael to directing it toward Ms. Venable. Without hesitation, Ms. Mead fired. 

You flinched at the sound of the gunshot, drawing back against Michael, who reassuringly squeezed your shoulders while smirking with satisfaction over what just transpired. 

Ms. Venable dropped to the floor gasping as she started to bleed out from the wound in her chest. 

Michael’s hands slid down your arms, walking around you towards Ms. Venable.

“I don’t know why I did that,” Ms. Mead questioned, sadness laced in her voice. “I was always loyal to her.”

“It’s all right,” Michael spoke calmly, crouching down, his arms resting on his knees as he watched Ms. Venable die. “You were obeying commands, like you’re programmed to do,” he explained. “My commands.���

You knitted your brows together finally piecing together what was going on. You had been so invested on your and Michael’s reunion, that you hadn’t ask how he was able to revive Ms. Mead. 

“Did you enjoy executing the poison apples plan as much as I enjoyed coming up with it?” Michael asked Ms. Mead, standing back up. 

“You wanted everyone dead?”

“I’ve never been a fan of getting my hands dirty,” he reasoned. “Learned that from my father.”

Ms. Mead’s lips trembled as she processed all the new information and her grief. 

“Always more fun to entice men and women to do dirty deeds. Confirms what I’ve always believed,” Michael mused.

“What do you believe?”

“That all people, if given the right pressures or stimulus, are evil motherfuckers,” he declared. “All except for y/n, of course,” he chuckled, looking at you before returning his attention to Ms. Mead.

“I’m having trouble with this,” she shook her head. “I know I’m just a machine.”

“Never say that,” he said forcefully. “You’re not just a machine. Not to me. When I tasked The Cooperative’s R&D department to have you constructed, I gave them a prototype to model.”

“A prototype?” She asked, hanging on to each and every word Michael said. 

“Someone from my childhood,” he shared, approaching her slowly. “Someone very dear to me.”

Her expression changed as realization struck her. “The beautiful boy.”

“That was me,” Michael answered, his eyes glossy as he held back tears. “But I had to keep the most important part of you hidden from your mind, just like I had to with y/n.”

“Why?”

“To protect you and the plan,” he said. “But now it’s time to remember it all.“ His eyes flickered to the ground for a brief moment, head shaking slightly as he continued to speak. 

“I lost you and I couldn’t bear it. And after that, I had to hide y/n to keep her safe.” His heart ached recalling all the pain, misery, loneliness he felt after losing the only people who loved him. “I can’t imagine a new world without you both by my side.”

Her eyes darted to you, “So that’s why I felt connected to you, like I needed to watch over you.”

You smiled at her and nodded, “You’ve always been good to me.”

Michael embraced Ms. Mead tightly. He finally had the only people who mattered back. The only people who ever showed him love and kindness. The rest of the world could burn now. 

Pulling back, Michael smiled at you and offered you his hand. His thumb caressed your knuckles lovingly while his other arm lingered around Ms. Mead. “You both are the only people I never stopped trusting or loving.” 

His eyes narrowed as he noticed the blood splattered on your dress. “There’s a dress for you in the armoire,” he motioned towards it. “Go change, I’ll catch Ms. Mead up on things.”

In the adjoining bathroom, you stripped out of your purple dress, letting it fall to the floor. Looking at your reflection, you fixed your face, wiping away the streaks of mascara from under your eyes. 

The dress was more contemporary than the purple attire you had grown accustomed to. The black fabric was smooth and luxurious. Pulling it on, it fit you like a glove, hugging the curves of your hips and thighs.

You frowned as you found that you couldn’t reach the zipper on the back. You cleared your throat as you emerged from the bathroom. “I can’t zip it up.” 

Michael strode towards you and stood behind you, his fingers ghosting over the exposed skin of your back as they traveled down to the zipper. Taking his time he pulled it up. 

His eyes traveled up and down your figure as he admired the dress on you, “A perfect fit.”

Michael tensed suddenly, eyes darting to the side, standing still as if waiting for something to happen. 

“What is it?” Ms. Mead asked. 

“I sense a powerful presence,” he responded, eyes shifting as he concentrated on whoever just arrived. 

“What do you mean? Everyone’s dead,” she said, looking concerned. 

“Not anymore,” Michael answered. He extended his hand out towards you, fingers curling around your palm. “Let’s greet our guests.”

Ending 1

Ending 2

#michael langdon #reader insert #female reader #ahs apocolaypse #ahs coven #ahs Michael Langdon #michael langdon fanfiction #michael langdon imagine #michael langdon x you #michael langdon x reader #american horror story #american horror story fanfic #American horror story apocalypse #ahs #canon rewrite

[king-with-no-crovvn]

I miss writing so, so much, and I still have so many ideas all these years later! Is anyone out there still reading for Michael Langdon these days??

#michael langdon #xavier plympton #andy dolan #duncan shepherd #cody fern #ahs apocalypse #ahs 1984 #michael langdon x reader #michael langdon x you #michael langdon fanfiction

[chaos-is-beautifvl]

it’s been well over a year since i posted my writing in the ahs fandom. and, after a bit of searching the tags, i realized that the activity for michael langdon (in particular) has drastically decreased since i was last here

that being said, i have a couple stories that i never got around to finishing, as well as two series i left on hiatus. i, for sure, want to finish the series but let me know which one-shots you’re interested in. i would prefer to create stories that others are going to read and not just me

p.s. check out my other writing here and here (primarily michael langdon but also xavier plympton, duncan shepherd, and jim mason)

˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

𝐨𝐧𝐞-𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐭𝐬:

𝐌𝐢𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐞𝐥 𝐋𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐝𝐨𝐧:

✿ class reunions are overrated || outpost!michael

you think class reunions are overrated but a series of events following a certain blonde friend change your mind

✿ it’s called magic, darling || dilf!michael x teacher!reader

all the teachers have a crush on the hot dad with the adorable daughter but he only has his eyes set on one

✿ you’re not my friend

you and michael have to work together on a new project. michael is used to everyone falling at his feet, but he’s in for a rude awakening you could give zero fucks || inspired by therefore i am - billie eilish

✿ how did we get here?

you watch as michael changes into someone he’s not, leaving you questioning your relationship || inspired by decode - paramore

𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐜𝐨𝐝𝐲 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬:

✿ no body, no crime feat. detective!duncan shepherd || preview here

the good detective comes to you with a mystery he thinks he’s solved, only to discover just how wrong he is || inspired by no body, no crime - taylor swift

𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬:

✿ a helping hand || fem!reader, set in the outpost

your meeting with langdon takes an awry turn when he brings up something from your past

part 1 | part 2 | part 3 | part 4 | part 5

✿ 1984 x Coven x Apocalypse crossover || fem!reader, implied!poc

the year is 1984, you’re on the road with your cousin and everything seems to be going well. however, it all starts going to shit as soon as you set foot in that camp

chapter 1: the start of a wonderful summer | chapter 2: what donkey? | chapter 3: cece and freddy

˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

#ahs x reader #michael langdon x reader #duncan sheperd x reader #michael langdon fanfiction #xavier plympton x reader #american horror story x reader #cody fern x reader #ahs fanfic #ahs fic

[the-hotel-cortez]

Destiny’s Anarchy [Pt. 2]

AN: More than a year later and back with parts of this series that I never posted. My writing has GREATLY improved since this period in time so I may finish this series up if anyone is miraculously still invested. 🫡

Back ⬅️ Pt. 1

Forward ➡️ Pt. 3 [TBW]

𝓢𝓾𝓶𝓶𝓮𝓻𝔂: When Michael visits Miss Robichaux’s Academy for his test of The Seven Wonders, your unspoken rivalry soon blossoms into something more. But when you receive a vision and see Michael’s destined fate, it’s up to you to do the devil’s work and change the inevitable. Saving the Antichrist? Not something everyone can put on their resume.

𝓦𝓪𝓻𝓷𝓲𝓷𝓰𝓼: Major angst, blood required for a ritual spell (🥀,⚠️)

AN: Did I cry writing this? No, no, definitely not. I’m sorry in advance for how sad this chapter is, but it is necessary for me to set up my main plot for the story. So grab some kleenex if you need, and try to enjoy. <3

As you opened your eyes, a bright glare slowly faded into the glow of daylight. You stood dumbfounded on the sidewalk as your vision came into focus. You had never experienced anything this real before, only flashes of future and past. Whatever Michael had done, it had amplified your powers ten-fold.

Across the street lay a modest California home, an array of red rose bushes decorating the lawn. You began to question why you were here, all until the door of the house opened and a familiar figure stepped out.

Michael.

Something about him was different, more youthful. He was dressed in a bright yellow t-shirt, jean jacket, and khaki pants. Something you never thought you’d ever get to see him wear. Your amusement was cut short as he walked out of the house and towards the road. A large black SUV sped along the very same street, not showing any signs of stopping. You gasped, and only seconds later it was all over. Michael lay sprawled out in the asphalt, coated in his own blood.

You couldn’t move. You wanted more than anything to run to him, hold him in your arms and tell him everything would be ok, but something held you in place no matter how hard you tried. What was this? The past? He looked so young, so innocent. Unlike the present Michael you knew. If this was the past, why was he dying? How could he still be alive and with you this very moment at Robichaux’s? Before any of your questions could be answered, you were wrenched back into darkness.

As you awoke, you had expected to be back in your room, safe and sound at the academy. Though luck was not on your side. The dim light of torches lit the area around you, a fiery orange hue spreading through the entire room. You looked around groggily, instantly recognising the mystery location. It was Hawthorne.

Though something about it was different. It was quiet, unlike its usual loud bustling of teenage warlocks. Dust hung heavy in the air, and the entire space was enclosed in a strange darkness. It looked as if it had been untouched for years.

Your stomach dropped as you spotted a glistening trail of blood outside the cracked door of the room. Tiptoeing over to the opening, you followed the trail. A deafening scream broke the silence, and you quickly peered outside.

There stood Michael, once again, but much different this time. He had long, flowing hair, and a velvet jacket that matched the blood that stained the floor and walls. It would have been a beautiful sight; that is, if you didnt realise the blood was his own. Despite his injuries, he was still standing. Standing over the body of a girl.

It was Madison.

You stifled back tears as a mix of rage and disappointment overcame you. How could he do this? Just a few moments ago, he looked like an innocent child. Now… he was a monster. You watched reluctantly as he made his way to the second floor, slaughtering more members of your coven along the way. Your sisters, your family. You couldn’t compose yourself, half in denial of what you were seeing. This couldn’t be real… yet part of you knew it was.

Once again, as your tears flowed, darkness enveloped you.

Blood rushed to your head as you came to, dizziness clouding your mind accompanied by the lingering rage and confusion of what you had seen. The ground felt warm under you now and your body drenched in sweat.

“What did you see?” His voice was curious, yet a tone of worry clung to his words. “Tell me exactly what happened.”

Stifling back you let your vision re-focus as the world reformed. “You.”

“I saw you.”

PART 3 HERE [TBW]

Tag list: Tag list: @evilcr0ne @kitwalker02 @sallyscigarettes @bellaisasleep @lil-dreg @mary-jinx

#ahs fandom #ahs #ahs fan fiction #american horror story #ahs fanfiction #michael langdon imagine #michael langdon fanfiction #michael langdon #michael langdon smut #michael langdon x reader #michael langdon x you #ahs smut #ahs apocalypse #ahsfx #ahs fanfic #ahs x reader

[7-wonders]

I had to get up way earlier than normal today and I was so so sleepy 😴 I remember from one of your older mad love asks that Michael goes to bed a lot earlier than reader, so would he normally get up earlier too? Because damn, some soft kisses on my face as a way to wake me up would be super nice, and he’d be the type to do it I think 🥺

Such a cute idea!! I do think he'd get up earlier than you. It's a habit from his childhood; Grandma very much believed in "early to bed, early to rise," and it just stuck with Michael.

//

On mornings like this, where you have obligations that were scheduled bright and early and against your will, you curse whoever decided that mornings were the preferred time to conduct any sort of business. You are not a morning person, and that's an indisputable fact. The sun rises in the East and sets in the West, Halloween is in October, and you are not a morning person.

On mornings like this, you don't even bother to set your alarm. This may seem risky, especially considering your habit of hitting 'snooze' and going back to bed so that you can blissfully sleep through the blaring of your alarm. But your secret weapon doesn't come from any phone or alarm clock; no, your secret weapon would be your husband, who is, frustratingly, an early bird. You've lost count of the amount of times you've glared at him while trying to wake up or eating breakfast with a blanket wrapped around your shoulders while he waltzes around with a smile and at full alertness.

There's one reason that Michael especially enjoys getting up early for, and it's acting as your own personal alarm clock. For some reason, he finds your grumpiness and unwillingness to leave your comfy bed endearing. You suppose you should be glad that this is the case, and you are—just not in the moment.

Today, you wake up to Michael gently calling your name and his fingers lightly brushing across your face. Instead of opening your eyes, you shut them tighter in retaliation and groan.

"It's time to wake up, baby," Michael says in your ear before moving to kiss your cheek. He follows this up with a kiss on your nose, before moving to your forehead and peppering your brow with more kisses.

"Mm, don' wanna," you mumble, turning and burying your head against Michael's shoulder instead.

"You don't have a choice, unfortunately."

"Yes I do." Finally, you open your eyes and pull back so that you can actually look at Michael, who's already dressed for the day and crouched down next to your side of the bed. "We could fake our deaths and go into the Witness Protection Program?"

Michael laughs. "That seems like a bit of an overreaction."

"I, for one, think it's a perfectly normal reaction."

"That's why I've learned not to trust anything you say until you've been conscious for at least an hour." Michael stands before grabbing your hands and pulling you up to a sitting position. "C'mon. You can't be late, you told me that last night."

You scoff. "I did, didn't I?"

Michael nods. "You did."

"Can I get another kiss for my troubles?"

"You can get all of the kisses..." Instead of kissing you on your pursed lips, he kisses just to the side of your lips. "After you brush your teeth."

That's what finally gets you up and out of bed.

#mad love musings #michael langdon x reader #michael langdon #michael langdon imagines #michael langdon fanfiction #michael langdon imagine #american horror story #american horror story imagine #ahs #ahs imagine

[amomentsescape]

Michael Langdon Masterlist

Cuddling With Outpost! Michael Headcanon

Queen

Reader is saved by the Outpost, only to realize that there is more to her and Michael’s fate.

Love Me

A love triangle between Queen! Reader, her servant, and a king.

Parties Are For Dummies

A friends to lovers trope based on the characters of Booksmart.

For You

Michael walks in on reader having a relapse with self-harm (warning).

Overprotective

Michael being too protective over reader.

Marvel AU

A New Life

Michael makes the choice to change his life for the better.

At a Loss

Tony is worried about Michael’s safety with being an Avenger.

Time

A solution comes to Michael five years after the initial snap.

Relinquished

Michael makes the ultimate sacrifice during the events of Endgame.

Michael Stark

Tony offers Michael the choice of a lifetime.

Beginning

Xavier and Montana join the Avengers and finally become a part of a family.

Charmed

Xavier loves to flirt and be the center of everyone’s attention.

Staring and Silence

Michael finally gets the courage to talk to his long-time crush.

Staring and Silence Part Two

Date night ensues.

Underestimate

After Peter, Xavier, and Montana are kidnapped, it is up to Michael to save them.

Way Ahead of You

Secretary Ross thinks he can get the Avengers to be under government control.

A Little Late

The witches crash Michael’s party thinking he was still the anti-christ.

Not Yours to Have

Michael finds himself being judged by the council just like Tony had been before.

Saved

Michael makes the decision to free trapped souls at the Murder House and Camp Redwood.

The Truth

Michael comes face to face with Apocalypse! Michael.

The Truth Part Two

Michael makes the choice to go back and get answers.

Chocolate Donut

Peter, Michael, and Morgan all spend some time on the rooftop together, eating donuts and being siblings.

Like it Never Happened

With the help of Tony and Michael, Quentin Beck was found before anything disastrous could happen.

What’s Mine

Wanda gets jealous when a few girls try to tempt Michael at a bar.

The Start

Michael reminisces on when he first met his father, Tony Stark.

It’s a Stark Thing

Michael finally gets his very own suit.

Past Wisdom

Stark’s two sons bond over past choices.

The Start

Michael reminisces on how Tony took him into the family.

#ahs #american horror story #ahs fanfiction #ahs apocalypse #american horror story apocalypse #michael langdon imagine #michael langdon fanfiction #michael langdon #michael langdon fluff #michael langdon x reader

[dyns33]

Fluffotber 27 - Michael Addams

Michael Addams x reader 

Michael was going to kill this man.

He really wanted to anyway, and the only reason that parasite was still alive was because he knew his goddess wouldn't be happy if he touched him, that he might scare her, and that the doctor had promised him that this nightmarish situation was only temporary.

As soon as he heard about this appointment, he knew that was not a good idea, that something terrible was going to happen. It reminded him of the time he had to go to the dentist.

A marvelous memory, all these instruments of torture. The blood. This scared the poor dentist, who couldn't understand why he wasn't screaming in pain, and ended up administering anesthetic.

When Y/N had entered the room, he wasn't so much himself and he hadn't recognized her. It was as if he was experiencing a miracle for the second time in his life, reliving their encounter, dazzled by her beauty.

           "You are a vision."

           "Thank you, Michael. Are you okay ?"

           "You know my name ? And you worry about me ? I don't even deserve you to look at me, but I'll dare...Marry me."

           "I can't tell if you're serious." she had said, laughing, the most beautiful sound in the world, putting her hand on her mouth, displaying her wedding ring.

           "Oh, no. You're married ? I should have known, I'm not worthy of you. But no one can be worthy of you. Who's your lover ? I have to meet them, I have to make sure that they treat you like you deserve !"

           "Michael, we are married."

           "... What ?"

           "You are so adorable, my crazy darling."

He had cried a lot that day, unable at all to believe that such a perfect creature could agree to unite with him, before becoming normal again. He continued to cry anyway, because even when he was normal, he had a hard time understanding why his goddess loved him so much.

This situation had been a bit amusing.

The one he was in now was not. He suspected it wouldn't last, since he had experienced it himself, but he didn't like it at all.

The operation was not complicated. Necessary, but not dangerous. Even though he didn't trust it, Michael didn't want to lose his Y/N, so he had accompanied her to the hospital, and she had been put to sleep.

Except that when she woke up, she didn't remember him.

Everyone was now trying to calm him down, repeating that it was a temporary effect of the anesthesia. But even if it didn't last long, it was torture to see her like this, staring at him with lost, slightly frightened eyes.

She jumped when he knelt in front of her, taking her hand to kiss it, saying he was glad she was back.

           "Who are you ?" she had then asked shakily, and her world broke his heart.

Part of him was a little hurt that she didn't fall in love with him right away, like he had fallen in love with her again last time.

Then Michael had hit his head against the wall, remembering that she was a goddess, and that he was nothing, and that he had been very lucky to be able to seduce her.

He had been very scared then. What if she never remembered ? What if she no longer loved him and left him ?

He wouldn't survive it.

He couldn't destroy the world, because that would mean hurting her, which he couldn't do, but he would throw himself off a bridge.

It had only been ten minutes and he was already considering which bridge he was going to choose, his mind clouded with despair.

A nurse patted him gently on the shoulder, but cautiously, not really knowing how the man who had screamed like a madman before cowering in a corner of the hospital hallway would react.

           "Mr. Langdon. Your wife would like to see you."

           "She remembers me ?!"

           "No, not yet. But she would like to see you."

It wasn't the best news, but it was still some good news. Y/N could have asked him not to approach her again.

When Michael returned to the bedroom, she was watching her hand. She had to take it off for the operation, but her wedding ring had remained by her bed, and she had put it back on, admiring it for a long time.

           "You gave me this ?"

           "Yes."

           "You must be rich. Or mad. Or love me a lot."

           "I love you more than anything, I'm crazy about you, and I'll give you all the gold in the world, and more, if you ask me."

This made her smile, and for a moment, his goddess was here again.

           "I believe we are at school together." she said after a long silence.

           "We were. It's been several years since we graduated."

           "Hmm. Is it true that you look a bit older. Am I... Am I older too ?"

           "No. You are still the same, eternally beautiful."

           "Are you always this intense ?"

           "No. Yes ? I don't know, I'm not sure what you mean, my queen."

This made her laugh again. Michael couldn't help but put his hand on hers. This time she was not afraid.

In a trance, he stroked her fingers, her handle, before approaching his lips, kissing her again, before continuing with her arm.

           "Cara mia." he whispered sadly.

           "You really are crazy, you… Oh. Oh, Michael. Michael, I'm sorry."

           "My Goddess ?" he asked, raising his hopeful eyes to her sweet face.

           "I think they gave me a little too much anesthetic. You must have been very scared, forgive me."

           "You have no reason to apologize ! One word from you, and I'll kill every doctor in this place."

Of course, she didn't want to. Y/N sighed before taking his face in his hands and kissing him, making him purr.

Although Michael knew that everything was going to end well, he had feared the worst. To be married to such perfection, to be happy by her side, to have the pleasure of being able to touch her, talk to her, look at her, that couldn't last forever, he would inevitably be punished one day.

But not today. Y/N remembered him, and she still loved him. And as soon as she was cleared to leave the hospital, he carried her home, promising himself that it would never happen again.

           "I will have to see another doctor one day."

           "I will ask my father to use his powers so that you never get sick again."

           "My adorable fool."

           "Only yours, cara mia. Even if you forget me, or if I forget you. Always."

#american horror story apocalypse #michael langdon #michael langdon imagine #michael langdon fanfiction #michael langdon x reader #Michael Addams #the addams family #flufftober 2022

[hufflepuffplums]

Is it just me or does outpost Michael seem really cuddly, he would give the best hugs

I feel like he would too! I feel like he just wants your attention and affection all the time, just a little touch-starved baby who needs hugs.

I can just see him coming up behind you for a hug resting his chin on your shoulder while you do whatever you are doing. He loves lying his head on your lap and listening to you read; Grabbing your hand and plopping it on his head for you to stroke his hair.

Michael is not afraid to be the little spoon as much as he loves to be the big spoon. It's very intimate for him when he's the little spoon, he gets to let his guard down with you. Resting his head on your chest over your heart is his favorite, your beating heart calms him and helps him relax.

Near everyone else, he's cold as ice. Always in command and never off his guard. Game player, charismatic, and confident. But alone with you, the facade breaks away and he can be himself.

#ahs #michael langdon #ahs apocalypse #american horror story #michael langdon fanfiction #michael langdon x reader #apocalypse

[auroracalisto]

do you trust me?

michael langon x gn!reader, 265 words tw: i genuinely don't have any warnings for this one a/n: this is short. might continue. maybe not.

"Are you scared?" he asked, a faint smile showing.

He was beautiful—unlike the others that you were stuck in the outpost with. In fact, he was the only person in this godforsaken place that made your heart beat out of your chest. Your body trembled, your legs moving on their own accord when you saw him.

But were you scared of him? Of this absolute stranger you didn't know existed until just a few days ago?

You were a grey. Was absolute honesty allowed?

He tilted his head at your silence, an eyebrow raised as he kept his eyes on you.

"I asked you a question, Y/n."

"No," you quickly said, eyes locking with his. "No, I am not scared. Why would I be?"

He smirked, leaning back in his seat.

"There are many things you don't know," he said.

"The same could be said for you, Langdon," you said, swallowing thickly. Your brazenness continued to amaze you as the moments passed.

His smile only grew. "I suppose you're right," he said. "But... mind you, I am just a stranger. Shouldn't you be scared of someone you just met?"

"Why would I? You've done nothing to me..."

He rose an eyebrow. He had done far more than you would ever know, but he said nothing of it.

"I'm glad to hear it," he said. "I have great plans for you, Y/n. Do you trust me?"

Do you trust him? What kind of question was that? But without missing a beat, the words left your lips.

"Yes."

"Yes, what?"

"Yes. I trust you."

#michael langdon #michael langdon x reader #reader insert #x reader #michael langdon fanfiction #fanfic #american horror story #ahs #ahs x reader #american horror story x reader #ahs apocalypse #ahs apocalypse x reader #gn!reader #gender neutral reader #fem!reader #male!reader #no gender-defining language #short #imagine #ahs imagine #american horror story imagine #netflix #cody fern #cody fern x reader

[langdxn]

the compromise pt i | fire and reign!michael x fem!reader

SUMMARY: You get financial stability. Michael gets what he craves. It’s the perfect compromise.

WARNINGS: drug use, mention of police, sexual tension all over the place, breeding kink, mentions of birth control.

WORD COUNT: 2.7k

A/N: welcome to a series i never thought i’d start but now i’m here, i can’t control myself. this will go on for some time, so please forgive me!

“Mr Langdon wants to see you in his office.”

The words that danced across Ms Venable’s smug lips sent chills up your spine, overwhelming dread washing over you as if a wave had poured through your cubicle’s ceiling tiles and bathed you in abject horror. Venable revelled in delivering the news that your recent behaviour had stirred none other than the company’s mysterious CEO.

Despite working for Kineros Robotics for 13 months, you’d never once met the man who funded the company’s dealings both above and below board, never even passed him in the hallway. The figurehead who made the final decision on the corporation’s actions, the model around which the dubious company functioned, remained a mystery from head to toe.

Office rumour has it the company never used to attract quite as much attention before his appointment, but you were hired a week after he arrived and assumed the unusual surroundings were the status quo. The unexpected combinations of celebrities from all corners of popular culture filing past your cubicle on the way to the CEO’s office on the 66th floor seemed normal to you, but you never worked out what they wanted with a seemingly innocuous robotics company. As much as you valued the job and its income sparing you from innumerable financial crises and final demand letters that poured through your front door, you certainly weren’t paid well enough to care what went on behind closed doors.

At least, that is, until recently.

——

“Take this to the 45th floor,” Venable barked, slamming a heavily-taped cardboard box on your desk. “The last girl had to be… dismissed this morning due to her failure to wear a simple name badge.”

“Yes, Ms Venable,” you blindly complied, gripping the brown package and rising to your feet. As you lifted the heavy box and made your way around your cubicle walls, Venable grabbed your arm and leaned in to whisper in your ear.

“Give this to the blonde mop top that answers to Mr Jeff Pfister,” she half-hissed. “As much as it pains me to admit it, he’s the more sensible of the two. Give this to Jeff only, you understand me?”

“Yes, Ms Venable,” you repeated. An obedient sacrament you hadn’t dared break in all your months at the company, not daring to find out the consequences if you did. With a nod of acknowledgement, Venable gestured toward the hallway and watched you walk away carrying the seemingly precious cargo.

After all the times you’d seen the likes of Ryan Reynolds and Elon Musk grace the hallways of the seemingly endless Kineros building, the journey upstairs never phased you. The elevator leading toward the work conducted at the robotics labs was a mere side effect of the pay packet at the end of the month. The metallic doors swung open automatically as you approached, allowing you to step in, spin around and let out a contented sigh.

Shuffling the box into the crook of your arm to free a hand ready to call the elevator, you chuckled lightly at the sudden recall of a memory of the 7 members of BTS squeezing into the restrictive metallic chamber together. As the box slid back down into your grasp, you noticed a dusty trace it left behind on your forearm. A thin, white line of powder.

Fuck. It’s cocaine.

The dramatic weight of the box in your clutches suddenly dawned on you, straining your arms to keep it steady.

Fuck. It’s a lot of cocaine.

Enough to solve those final demand letters.

Enough to solve any final demand letters.

Before your mind could calculate the consequences, your hands had already fumbled for the weakness in the box and clawed it open further, pouring out handfuls of the white powder and stuffing it into the pockets on your formal suit pants. Not enough to arouse suspicion but enough to line your pockets and earn yourself at least one less red bill.

With the soft ‘ding’ of the elevator arriving at the 45th floor, you’d already worked out your excuse before your messy-haired recipient met you in the crisp white foyer of the robotics laboratory.

“They finally sent a hot chick?” The man who answers to Mr Jeff Pfister called out as he bounded towards you, eyeing you up and down without an ounce of shame. “The last one was totally clapped but this one is a certified babe!”

A chuckle of agreement erupted from a brown-haired man across the lab without looking up from his electronic project at hand.

As Jeff’s gaze dropped to your feet, he noticed a distinct white trail behind you and audibly gasped.

“The fuck?!” He cried out, dropping to his knees and scooping up the powder with his bare hands. “Babe, what the fuck?!”

“Sorry, sir,” you apologised calmly. “This is how it came from the delivery room.”

“Well tell them to be more careful next time, will ya?” He looked up from his cleaning mission for a second before dropping his nose to the floor and snorting the remaining amount. “This is precious cargo right here, we can’t afford to lose this!”

“It won’t happen again, sir.”

In fact, the exact thing happened again. And again. And again. Until your final demand letters became a thing of the past only two weeks later, selling the contents of your pockets to anybody who would buy from the least suspicious coke dealer in the area.

Halfway through your fifth delivery, the hum of the elevator carrying you upwards suddenly snapped you back to reality, an overwhelming pang of realisation crashing over you as you turned to rest your back against the reflective doors. How much longer could you pull this off? How long before suspicions were raised in the building?

What if the CEO found out? Worse still — what if Venable found out?

Your mind raced through the consequences of losing your entire income from the company. The final demand letters would rear their red heads. You’d lose your apartment, your car, have to move back in with your parents, have to take the bus, probably serve jail time, have to apply for a new job having lost the last one due to careless management of inordinate amounts of cocaine — every outcome sounded worse than the last.

None of them were worth the risk anymore.

——

“Perhaps you didn’t hear me,” Venable’s ever-present bark dragged your consciousness back into the present. “We don’t want to keep Mr Langdon waiting now, do we?”

Swallowing harshly and slowly rising from your chair; your gaze met with Venable’s, glimmering with mauve disdain above her narrow glasses. Both of her hands clasped over her cane, she tapped the stick against the floor so hard it nearly shattered the flagstones.

“No, Ms Venable,” you obeyed with a bowed head, tucking your chair under your desk and treading tentatively into the white hallway toward the elevator. The same crisp hallway down which you carried the class A cargo but this time, each step was taken less with anticipation than sheer terror of what lay ahead.

The mirrored doors that not two weeks ago resolved all your financial fears were now destined to carry you to your inevitable firing. The doors hastily slid open on your approach, leading you to gulp loudly and step inside its metallic chamber.

Hang on, why would the CEO personally see you just to fire you? Venable revels in that job, practically clamours for it simply to feed on the anguish of unfortunate employees whose time had come to a premature end for some reason or another. After all, she dismissed the last girl for misplacing her name badge. Hurriedly, your hand raced to your chest to double check your own badge, breathing a heavy sigh of relief to find the metal pin still in place.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” you swore under your breath. “The money wasn’t worth this.”

You pressed the ‘66’ on the elevator keypad as if the button itself would destroy your life with one click, squinting to try and block out the next action as the doors swiped shut and encased you in its aluminium prison. Claustrophobia had never been an issue to you until this moment, eyes darting around your mirrored confinement from floor to ceiling as if you’d never make it out alive.

The jolt of the box’s motion skyward nearly toppled your balance as you braced yourself against the shiny wall, glancing up to the blinding lights above you that signposted your journey toward your fate. As if being dismissed wasn’t bad enough, your actions were far more illegal than you realised at the time. Aware that you’ve been mishandling a class A drug, Langdon could be sending you into a trap. The cops could be right behind that door when it reached its destination. You swallowed harshly, knowing full well how close you were to the end of the line.

The insensitive metallic “ding” of the elevator signalling its arrival washed yet another wave of dread over you. Squeezing your eyes tightly shut as the doors wiped open, you stepped out into the unknown and paced forward.

Your motion stopped abruptly as you clashed against an immovable force in front of you, forcing your eyes open to face the obstacle square in its eyes — a tall blonde man whose hard chest you just bumped against.

“It might be worth opening your eyes once in a while,” he sneered through a crooked smile creeping across his full lips, watching intently as you panicked and stumbled backwards raising cautious palms in the space between you to ensure you were a suitable distance away from him. He remained motionless, his hands clasped together behind his back.

“I… I…” you stuttered weakly. A deep chuckle erupted in Mr Langdon’s throat.

“I’m sure I pay you to speak at least a few words,” he smirked, his grin growing wider with every one of your panicked breaths. “Take a seat, miss.”

The elegant man spun on his heels and paced across the room to a chair behind a glass desk, tapping the opposite seat intended for you as he passed. Once the haze of fear finally dropped from your vision, focusing on his frame you noticed tumbling blonde curls pouring over his shoulders, his long black coat billowing as he moved and black boots making a satisfying ‘clack’ across the tiled floor.

Whatever you expected the mysterious Mr Langdon to look like, this definitely was not it.

“You’re not still frozen to the spot, are you?” His booming voice filled the room and caused you to lunge forward and rush to the chair across from him, perching on the edge of the seat and nervously sliding your hands under your thighs.

“Mr Langdon, I—.”

“So tell me,” he continued without acknowledging your attempt to speak, his facial features not changing to reveal his emotions. “What possessed you to steal cocaine from your employers to sell on the street?”

You gulped again. Loudly. How did he know every single detail of your actions? Did he have cameras in the elevator?

Fuck, you should’ve thought about that sooner.

“Sir, I know it was wrong and I’m so, so sorry,” you pleaded weakly, shaking your head in despair with every syllable. “Please, please don’t call the cops and please don’t fire me. I really need this job.”

For the first time, his smug grin dropped. Instead, a quirked eyebrow raised above his deep-set eyes.

“I was under the impression this company meant nothing to you,” he stated perplexed, leaning forward in his chair and placing an elbow on the glass table, resting his chin on his palm and tapping his cheek with his finger. “Particularly if you’d throw it all away over a few pocketfuls of cocaine.”

“Sir, have you ever made a mistake in the heat of the moment?” You instantly regretted your words as they rolled off your tongue without a second thought. “I made a huge mistake that jeopardised not only myself but also the company. I would take it back in a heartbeat.”

Langdon tapped his cheek again, as if dismissing your feeble attempts to resolve your own mess.

“I appreciate your tenacity, but you’ll have to try a little harder if you want me to overlook something as abominably illegal as this.”

“Of course sir, I’ll do anything.”

Langdon’s steady breaths hitched in his throat. His brow raised higher.

“Anything?”

“Anything, sir,” you affirmed.

He froze for what felt like an eternity, seemingly calculating your statement. You both sat in piercing silence, deafened by the unspoken words rolling around in his mind and the remaining desperate attempts to apologise for your mistake tumbling around yours.

“Don’t make promises you can’t keep, little girl,” he sneered, pursing his lips together.

“I… I’m not, sir. I really would do anything.”

This time, both of his tapered blonde eyebrows raised.

A decision had been made. And that decision terrified you.

Suddenly, Langdon rose from his chair and sidestepped around the desk, running a contemplative hand across the glass as he moved toward you. As he reached your side and his black boots nudged against your shoes, he peered down at you with wonder sparkling in his eyes.

“Stand up,” he commanded as you rose to your feet almost before he could finish his order. Even at your full height, Langdon towered over you, his blonde curls flowing around his shoulders at your eye level.

“If you do as I say, I will add the income you made from the coke to your salary so you never need to sell on the street again. If you do as I say, I will make this all go away. The police will never know, Mutt and Jeff will never know and most importantly, Venable will never know.” Langdon leaned in toward you, his voice softening with every word that left his plump lips. “But if you disobey me, I have the police on speed dial and I will personally ensure you never see the light of day again under the crushing weight of class A drug charges.”

You swallowed harshly, drawing your bottom lip between your teeth. Nodding furiously, you wilfully agreed to anything he had in mind.

“I have a few terms,” he continued, his face blank but searching yours for a reaction. “Number one, do you have an IUD?”

You nearly choked on thin air, eyes bulging from their sockets. You frantically scoured his face for any signal that he was joking, but his emotionless countenance gave nothing away. Realising how deadly serious he was, you shook your head tentatively.

“Good,” he affirmed with a slight quirk of his lips into a contented smile. “Second, are you taking any birth control?”

This time, your eyes darted around the room for a sign of a hidden camera, as if this were some prank. Unfortunately nothing jumped out at you, leaving you to nod obediently.

“Understood. I’m going to need you to stop taking it for at least two weeks. Do I make myself clear?”

Langdon slowly leaned into you, closing the gap between you as your breaths became laboured, until your lips almost met in the middle. You knew if you nodded in response, you’d certainly end up crashing into a kiss.

“Y… yes sir,” you whispered instead.

“Good girl,” he grinned, raising a hand to your face and tucking a rogue strand of hair behind your ear. He revelled in your fear, fed off your trepidation, bathed in your anticipation. He knew your thought process, knew you were following his plan to the letter at least in your mind. You knew exactly why he was asking this of you, but you couldn’t bring yourself to question it, to hear his intentions from his own lips. You knew what your CEO was asking you to do, but verbalising it would make it real.

Suddenly, he spun around and skirted around the table returning to his seat.

“I’ll have a contract drawn up by the morning. Come back by 9am and sign if you still want those charges to flutter off into the ether.”

You gulped in a feeble attempt to disguise your irregular breathing and nodded curtly in response.

“Yes, Mr Langdon,” you obeyed, turning on your heels to the sanctuary of the elevator. As you strode in silence toward the mirrored doors, the CEO’s voice broke through the void once more.

“You can call me Michael,” he called out in the hope you would look back at him.

Noticing you briskly continuing your journey out, he tried again.

“Oh and one more thing,” he added as you finally turned to face him.

“Yes, Michael?”

“Make sure you ditch that stupid name badge before you see me again.”

#cody fern #ahs apocalypse #michael langdon #michael langdon fanfiction #michael langdon imagines #cody fern fanfiction #american horror story #michael langdon x reader #ahs fanfiction #fire and reign!michael #fire and reign!michael x reader

[crown-ov-horns]

Michael Langdon x Female!SO (N/S/F/W edition 🍋)

Originally a reference sheet my WIP's. Mostly generalized headcanons. A seperate list of specific scenarios can be found here.

Switch for the right woman. Still, he certainly wants his fair share of dominance.

Likes it when seduction takes effort. If a girl is hard to get, he'll want her all the more. But. Should he feel the chase is taking too long, he may resort to drastic measures. Not rape, think more he imprisons his love interest, until she accepts him. Isn't beyond coercion.

Will absolutely fuck his love interest while she holds a blade to his throat. Think Troy, but she never drops the knife.

Despite the previous points, he enjoys when it his SO takes initiative. Shove him onto down, and mount him. Wait for him in lingerie. Come onto him, seriously.

He bites. A lot. Marking his territory turns him on.

Likes to show off. The notion of getting heard, or even caught, doesn't bother him. He wants others to know his love interest belongs to him, and him alone.

"Your're mine" is a constant. Will go feral if his SO tells him the same, or responds "I'm yours."

Prone to getting rough. Will cluth his lover's hips until they're bruised, pull her hair, wrap his fingers around her throat. He wants her nails ripping his back open. He is a Beast, after all.

Loves eye contact, and seeing his SO's face contort with the pleasure he gives her. This kind of despair turns him on. Loves to leave her exhausted, breathless, and empty-headed. Often takes time to admire her limp, sweat-covered body afterwards. Isn't against receiving the same treatment, though.

Enjoys giving and receiving oral equally. A master of cunnilingus. Likes to grasp his lover by the chin after coming into her mouth, and watch her swallow. Alternatively, doesn't mind being kissed with his own cum still in her mouth.

Has extremely high stamina. Also, often prefers long foreplay. Loves to tease.

Big into pillow talk.

Enjoys his Mark being kissed and licked.

Can get toxic. As in, sometimes, he'll pin his SO down and, essentially, force himself on her during an argument, or when he's frustrated/angry. But, he'll stop if he's told to.

Has a huge breeding kink.

His adoration of breasts may or may not have to do with the previous point.

Into ritual sex.

Excited by blood. Him and his lover drawing each other's blood. Sharing blood. Bathing in the blood of a victim or a sacrifice

#ahs #american horror story #ahs apocalypse #michael langdon #ahs fandom #horror fandom #ahs headcanons #michael langdon headcanons #fanfiction ideas #writing journal #diary pages #fanfic ref #fanfiction writing #fanfiction writer #ao3 writer #michael langdon fanfiction #ahs fanfiction #🍋 #michael langdon x f!so #michael langdon x reader #ahs gifs #cody fern #my gifs #this is shorter than i'd like #but again i'm used to epics #i thought i'll lay what i have in my head on paper #maybe it can be bloodflow to my blig because i'm out of damn low-effort gifs #i really really don't like labeling anything as kink but it's simpler #writen with some specific stories in mind #and i'm ✨procastrinating✨

[wroteclassicaly]

Below, you will find my complete Michael Langdon masterlist! It includes prompts, drabbles, series, one-shots, concepts, headcanons, and MORE!

* Copyright @wroteclassicaly - Do NOT redistribute, post to another platform, translate, or plagiarize my work (this includes AI) — under any circumstances! Reblogs, comments/feedback are ALWAYS appreciated! *

AHS Masterlist

Cody Fern Characters Masterlist

My library blog

Main Masterlist

Key:

❤️‍🔥 = smut

💔 = angst, depression, & anger

💝 = fluff & comfort

Series titles are in bold red

Appropriate warnings and tags will ALWAYS be added!

Finding out you’re pregnant with Michael’s child - (Headcanons)

Losing your virginity to Oupost!Michael - (Headcanons) ❤️‍🔥

First dates with Michael - (Headcanons)

Michael taking care of you when you’re sick -(Headcanons)

First time with Michael after he becomes the antichrist in full power mode - (Headcanons) ❤️‍🔥

Michael taking care of you during a depressive episode - (Headcanons) 💝💔

Michael & Tate bond - (Headcanons) 💝

Jealous & Protective Michael - (Headcanons)

Sub Michael - (Headcanons) ❤️‍🔥

Husband Michael - (Headcanons)

Protective Dad!Michael - (Headcanons)

Period Sex - (Headcanons) ❤️‍🔥

Dad Michael - (Headcanons)

Young Warlock Michael - (Headcanons)

Ripe

Chapter One ❤️‍🔥💝

Chapter Two (coming SOON)

Goodbye Means

Chapter One 💔❤️‍🔥💝

Fiercely Vigilant ❤️‍🔥💔

Magic ❤️‍🔥💔💝

Mine ❤️‍🔥💝

Home 💝

Because I Want To, Michael, I Want You 💔❤️‍🔥💝

If I’ve Ever Needed Someone, It’s Always Been You 💔💝

May I Taste Your Sin ❤️‍🔥

From Ashes To Pleasure ❤️‍🔥

Seeking comfort from Michael 💔💝

Cleaning blood off Michael after a ritual - (Headcanons) ❤️‍🔥

Michael senses your pain 💔💝

Not being able to sleep 💔💝

I’ll Meet You In The Changing Rooms ❤️‍🔥

Comfort 💔💝

Needing Michael 💔❤️‍🔥💝

Dad Michael - (Drabble) 💝

#my writing #kristenwrites #my work #michael langdon #ahs apocalypse #ahsfx #ahs #ahs: apocalypse #ahs8 #ahs 8 #american horror story #michael langdon smut #michael langdon fanfiction #michael langdon fic #michael langdon x reader #michael langdon x you