#miss venable

[missvenablesgrey]

Hello! First Post!!

Below I will paste some ideas I've been thinking of.  Please comment below the corresponding number and character you'd like to read about. If you also have any additional information regarding the request, don't be afraid to add that to your comment. Thanks!!

1.) We met at a party, and I got your number, but my friend deleted it, and I have no idea how to get in touch with you. Then, I run into you at the most random place ever.

2.) l fell asleep on your shoulder during an airplane ride, and I'm mortified, because we've never met. But you tell me it's fine, and offer to buy me coffee.

3.) l work in a bookstore, and you always come in, read a book, and leave. My boss is annoyed that you never buy anything, but I've started making a list of recommendations. Now, how to give it to you without seeming weird....

4.)We're the last ones left in the theater after an amazing movie, so I ask you what your favorite part was.

5.) I'm lost in a random small town and you show me around

6.) I accidentally broke into your apartment because i was drunk

7.) We get seated next to each other on a delayed flight

8.) Co-stars whose characters date each other on the show

9.)Strangers or friends pretending to date because ______

10.) I accidentally found and read your diary

11.) I didn't know you were my teacher

12.) My neighbour keeps ordering weird shit but they don't want to face the mailperson's judgement so they keep using my address instead

escaped to the laundry room to avoid hearing my roommates having extremely loud sex only to find you're here doing the same thing 

13.) I lost my asshole friends in this club and kind of drunk and you're kind of gorgeous. please help me

14.) I work at the animal shelter and you always come in to pet the cats when you're sad

15.) We both have friends who party too hard and we keep running into each other in the bathroom while we hold their hair back

16.) I work at Chuck E. Cheese and your son is having a huge birthday party

17.) Our sons are on rival sports teams and I've made it my life goal to cheer louder than you

18) Someone gave me a fake phone number and it's actually yours

19.) We met for the first time right in the dentist's waiting room right after i got my wisdom teeth removed

20.) I called you at 2am because I cannot handle the child I am babysitting and you're a parental figure, come here and save me from this hell

21.) There was a jerk harassing me and you tried to defend me even if you don't know me and OH MY GOD YOU'RE CUTE

22.) You're my next door neighbor and I accidentally saw you through my window dancing stupidly to your favorite song and now I think I'm in love

23.) You're my waiter/waitress and I'm on a date with an asshole and you decided to help me get out of this date.

24.) I'm on a balcony at Some dudes party and you just started loudly quoting Some Romeo and Juliet at me from below.

25.) Having to share a bed

o building a wall of pillows between them

o they still wake up tangled in each other anyway

o person A calms person B down when they wake up gasping

o person A soothing them by stroking their hair and forehead till they fall asleep in their arms

o person A keeps snoring and person B kicks them every time

o person A hogs all the covers and person B's solution is to spoon them

o the two of them smelling of each other when they wake up

o the pair acting like the intimacy they shared at night never happened the next day

#sarah paulson #sarah paulson fanfiction #Miss Venable #SP #one shot #ahs coven #ahs hotel #ahs murder house #ahs asylum #ahs cult #ahs apocolaypse #ahs double feature #ahs roanoke #ahs roleplay #fanfic #Sarah Paulson One Shot

[dreamypqulson]

my girl looks SO good

#missed her #wlw #sarah paulson #american horror story #ahs #ratched #oceans 8 #lesbian #billie dean howard #lana winters #cordelia goode #cordelia foxx #sally mckenna #audrey tindall #shelby miller #ally mayfair richards #wilhemina venable #tb karen #mildred ratched #diane sherman #tammy oceans 8 #harriet hayes #abby gerhard

[safic4-m]

~Master list~

😁🌈List fluffy

🔥😏List of obsenity

Lana Winters

❤️🚬Did you find everything you were looking for?

❤️🚬I would love that

Cordelia Goode

💛In love with Cordelia

💛So beautiful

💛💜You were different.

💛Just don’t look

💛I think I love you

Sally McKenna

🚬🦁Yes honey?

💜🚬🦁Put me down!

🚬🦁Are you going to finish me?

🚬🦁You promised

Audrey Tindall

💛🎭Oh my God

💛🎭I am

💛🎭Please don’t go on..

Ally Mayfair-Richards

❤️What are you two up to?

💜❤️She’s ours

❤️I like it

❤️Honey

Wilhemina Venable

💜 Hug me

💜The perfect life

💜🚬🦁Put me down!

💜Good girl

💜Hello my dear

💜Can I kiss you?

💜❤️She’s ours

💛💜You were different.

💜Hello pumpkin

💜It’s time, let’s go

TB Karen

🚬💔Stop mocking

🚬💔Take off your clothes

🚬💔She’s not my girlfriend.

Alma Peregrine

💙I am Catrina

💙Happy Anniversary

Alice Macray

💖I hate being a woman

💖Do you like what you see?

Diane Sherman

🤎💉I like the rain

🤎💉 Welcome

🤎💉Cum for me

Larissa Weems

🤍Larissa?

🤍Nothing is more important than you

🤍Am I in hell?

🤍It won’t

🤍I came back for you

🤍I like you too

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

🏳️‍🌈Characters in Pride month🌈

Lady Dimitrescu

❤️‍🔥Lady Lesso

#lana winters #cordelia goode #sally mckenna #audrey tindall #ally mayfair richards #wilhemina venable #tb karen #american horror story #ahs #asylum #coven #hotel #roanoke #cult #apocalypse #miss peregrine's home for peculiar children #alma peregrine #mrs america #alice macray #run #diane sherman

[ur-mag]

James Bulger’s dad slams parole board after killer Jon Venables misses own hearing | In Trend Today

James Bulger’s dad slams parole board after killer Jon Venables misses own hearing Read Full Text or Full Article on MAG NEWS

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#Celebrities #James Bulger’s dad slams parole board after killer Jon Venables misses own hearing #Money #Motors #Politics #ShowBiz #Sport #Tech #UK #US #World

[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

[stayevildarling]

Wilhemina Venable x Cordelia Goode x Reader- I miss you, I'm sorry

A/N: I got inspired by listening to the song ,,I miss you, I'm sorry'' by Gracie Abrams and this is the result 🤷‍♀️

word count: 7k

tw: sad, breakup, happy ending

taglist: @lunaticwhittaker, @billiebeanhoward @lanawinters-ily, @kenzbro, @minaslittleone, @httpfiftyshadesofgay @whitelotus00, @ninaahs , @vintagepaulson , @isle-of-earle, @paulsonsratched, @stepintomyworld, @grilledcheeseandguavajelly, @lucyintheskywithxanax, @fanfics4world, @mymiraclewitch, @hazard-to-myself, @awritersometime, @ohrwurm26, @wastdstime

It was simple really, so simple, yet today had tested you in ways you hadn't been tested before. Finally deciding to do something useful with your weekend off, you decided to head to the markets, maybe even strolling through some shops. Despite wanting to mope and bury yourself inside your apartment, not doing much other than staring at the ceiling or maybe doing some reading. A lilac candle, that's all it took, that same shade of lilac bringing you back to everything you know, bringing you back to them.

Them- you aren't sure how you would describe them to someone, maybe the sun and the moon? maybe soft glances shared, eyes locking and a steady but safe hand on your thigh at all times. Maybe yellow and purple? you aren't sure. And despite it having been so long now, you still remember everything, the way their touches felt on your skin, the way their voices sounded, the way their lips would feel on your own. Cordelia and Mina. Supreme to the academy, HR to a very important company. Your former girlfriends.

It's like everywhere you go it brings you back to them, a building looking a little too familiar to the coven, a colour reminding you a little too much of them. And today a simple lilac candle was enough, strolling through the markets, trying to have a good time and do some forgetting, instead you are pulled back into the past. With trembling hands and tear stained eyes, you make your way back to the nearest bus stop, cutting some corners to get there quicker as the last thing you currently want is embarassing yourself in public like this, despite not a lot of people caring either way, too busy with their own lives.

And then just like that, faith decides to have different plans for you, bumping into a stranger and landing on the floor as a result, quickly blinking some tears away as you open your eyes. However, the person in front of you was definitely no stranger. As soon as your eyes land on their legs, exposing the long flowy pants and those all too familiar shoes, you know exactly who is standing in front of you. Cordelia. You find her brown eyes locking with your own, staring at you, both in shock, sadness, concern and at last love. ,,Y/N'' she surprisingly gasps, blinking away the shock. ,,Here let me help'' she tries, holding out her hand to you. For a second you have no desire of taking it, but the temptation for even the smallest chance to feel her soft hand again too strong.

Quickly you compose yourself, clearing your throat and trying very hard to ignore the lump in your throat and the way your eyes were about to betray you. You can't help it, taking in her all to familiar features, the soft blonde slightly curled hair, that sweater you adore with the flowers on. However she looks tired, your Delia often looked tired, especially on the weekends after a busy week in the academy, looking after her girls and all the responsibilities on her shoulders. There was something else about the little bags under her eyes and the absence of that sparkle in her brown orbs. ,,I'm so sorry'' you practically blurt out, her eyebrows knitting in confusion at your statement.

,,For um- bumping into you'' you quickly compose yourself. She nods then, her lip doing that little thinking thing she would always do. There is a painful silence, not an awkward one, painful, neither of you being able to find the right words. ,,So - how have you been sweetheart?'' she asks, her eyes searching yours and that's enough. The simple pet name sending waves of heartache and pain all over you, making your heart physically hurt at the damage she just caused. ,,Fine, how about you?'' you quickly reply, wanting to escape this situation as soon as possible. She pauses then for a moment, thinking back to the last year without you. ,,It's been hard'' she truthfully tells you and it takes you by surprise, thinking she wouldn't be honest in this moment.

,,I'm sorry to hear that'' you quickly announce, glancing towards the bus stop to check the time table and hoping it would show up any moment so you could leave. But there is no bus in sight, the timetable too far away for your eyes to be able to read it. ,,How's.. how's Mina?'' you ask, absentmindedly almost. And that's when it hits Cordelia, that same heartache and pain crashing over her features. The way you said her name with such ease, sending moments through her head, little flashbacks of when you used to call your other girlfriend just that. ,,She-'' Cordelia pauses then, unsure what to say, the last year having been a lot of things but easy. ,,She's fine'' the supreme eventually explains, unsure how to explain a year worth of events to you just like that. You simply nod, that being all the confirmation you needed.

,,Y/N I-'' she begins and by the way her voice shakes you know exactly what she is about to do. ,,Delia please don't'' you try, tilting your head a little as you search her eyes. You don't want her to say those words, as she or rather they had said them before. You don't want to go back to that place of heartbreak. ,,I really need to get going, my bus is about to get here'' you compose yourself, tensing your shoulders a little to make your statement any more believable. ,,Y/N I- We miss you, I'm sorry'' she almost whispers the words and your eyes close then, having to force them close in order not to cry in front of her in the middle of the busy streets.

She notices, of course she does, Cordelia always noticed absolutely everything, and she frowns then, feeling bad but she couldn't stop herself, having not seen you in so long and undeniably missing you. It had been hard on all of them, the witches at the coven- who eventually became your friends and family. Wilhemina- the thought of her little one not being around killing her. And so you stand there, surrounded by the busy streets, cars zooming past you, your bus long having left, the sun slowly setting, tears streaming down your eyes, your breath hitching and chin wobbling. The blonde watches in silence, in pain, feeling terrible to open up those wounds again, a part of her wishing she never said those words.

There had always been something about your connection to Cordelia, the quiet love, the silent one where neither of you needed to have big conversations in order to bring your feelings across. And despite it being a year, there is something so painful about seeing her like this. You had often thought about it, maybe bumping into them again, maybe in the summer both of them strolling around the markets, maybe in December, running the annual errands for Christmas at the coven. And each time those thoughts crossed your mind, you saw them happy, healthy almost glowing as they walked beside each other hand in hand. But seeing her so tired and vulnerable and honest caused all that strength and stubbornness about showing your feelings in front of her to fade.

,,Y/N I'm so sorry'' she tries, reaching out to wipe your tears but she stops herself just in time, knowing she has no right to do that anymore, often ridding you of your tears in the past. ,,It's fine Cordelia'' you finally manage to muster up, angrily wiping your tears and stopping your pathetic cries. You take a step back, putting a distance between you two, wanting to go so badly, knowing you had been right here before.

,,I should really get going now'' you announce, averting her gaze and glancing towards the bus stop, sighing in frustration as you notice the last one had left. Of course Cordelia knew, being the supreme and all and so her eyes draw you back towards her. ,,Can I take you home please?'' she almost whispers, biting her lip to hide her own anxiety, despite her voice betraying her. Instinctively, you take another step back, shaking your head no. ,,I don't want you to be stranded here in the dark'' she argues back, her voice soft despite the circumstances. And then it dawns on you, how long the two of you had actually been standing there, despite not a lot of words being exchanged, how you left for the market in the afternoon and it being incredibly late now. You could easily walk, despite that taking about an hour for sure, possibly even calling an uber despite that being expensive and you not being the richest.

The exhaustion from seeing her again, crashes down on you like a tidal wave, drowning you in fatigue and sleepiness. Fighting back a yawn, you meet her eyes, blinking away the exhaustion. ,,Come on, I'm just parked around here'' she tries again and sometimes you hated her stubbornness but you could never say no to her- not your Delia and so without having much of a say, your legs take over and follow the woman, catching a sense of the all too familiar perfume and scent of honey and vanilla- home. Sensing your exhaustion, she opens the door to her car for you, offering to buckle you in but you quickly refused, that definitely being too much and bringing too many memories and flashbacks back.

And so with no words exchanged, she begins driving aimlessly at first until you tell her the address. Her phone must have automatically connected to her car as the screen lights up and an all too familiar song begins playing softly in the background. ,,Landslide'' by Fleetwood Mac. And even that is enough to send aches towards your heart again. The car ride is silent and part of you can't believe you are back in that place. Back in that same car, the same little air freshener you had purchased for her almost two years ago. It's a Yankee candle one, vanilla as it reminded you of her and a part of you wonders in your tired state, why she had kept it as the smell had long given up, needing replacement.

But then just like by some magical force, fate again gives you the answers to your question as the screen lights up, Wilhemina's number on the screen, her name and the contact photo with you, Cordelia and Wilhemina. You remember that day well, the day after your birthday when Delia bought you a little polaroid camera with some films and how for that entire day you went around the academy, collecting glimpses of your favourite places and people, eventually snapping one of the three of you, despite Wilhemina's protests. And then it dawns on you, she hadn't forgotten about you, she hadn't even moved on to begin with. Her face meets yours, quickly declining the phone call, knowing this would be too much for you, hearing her voice again. She plays it cool, humming along to the song as if nothing happened. As if that call and the evidence of the photo didn't just betray her like that. And confirming her statement when she said things had been hard.

It takes about thirty seconds for the screen to light up again and given that you are still a good ten minutes from your apartment, you simply look at her and mutter ,,You can answer it''. She hesitates at first but knowing Wilhemina's impatience and the fact she had said she would only pop out for about an hour to get some things and it now being late and leaving Wilhemina with the academy and all the witches, she answers. ,,Hi honey'' she speaks softly as if nothing is happening as if their shared ex- you- isn't sitting in her car right now. And for some reason that angers you, realistically what do you expect her to say?

,,Is everything alright?'' her voice finally rings through the speaker. And for some reason that breaks you even more, you had missed Cordelia in every way you could miss a person over the last year but Wilhemina? her safe comforting presence? her sternness and the way she would look out for you? you had missed that equally as much. They said forever back then and you almost bought it, you even miss fighting in your old bedroom, breaking dishes when Mina was disappointed and then it dawns on you- you still love them.

,,Yes I'm fine darling, just taking care of something before heading home'' Delia announces, pulling you away from the heartache and back into the present. And for some reason you just wanna blurt into the speaker, ask Cordelia to take you home- truly your home and not the apartment you had been staying at for the past year as your home was them, the academy with your family. ,,Okay be safe'' her voice rings through the car again before the call disconnects. Neither of you speak, the remainder of the drive deadly silent as all you want to do is collapse on your bed and cry yourself to sleep, unsure whether sleep would even be an option tonight. And at the same time, you never want the drive to end, feeling an odd amount of content being with her again, despite it all.

,,It's just here'' you announce, pointing towards the building and as she stops the car, you sigh before collecting your bag and opening the door. ,,Th- Thank you'' you mutter out before exiting her car, not even looking back anymore before practically running inside, banging your apartment door shut and collapsing onto your bed. Her car remains outside of your building for a while, wanting nothing more than to run after you but she needed to get home, despite home not feeling very much like it without you.

The pain is unbearable as you sob heavily into your pillow, her scent somehow still lingering in the air, her voice and words repeating over and over again in your head. You are still confused and you had been for a year, about what had actually happened and you try very hard to convince yourself that this was better, that you are better without them. But the but's are too loud in your mind right now, reminding you of all the reasons you love them, of all the reasons you should go back to them.

Your relationship with Wilhemina and Cordelia started almost fairytale like, you had known both women from the academy, living there for several years after figuring out something about you had always been a little odd and stumbling over the academy in your mid twenties. You had always known Cordelia as the supreme and headmistress, before eventually Wilhemina joined as the supremes helper and secretary, you believed at first. However, it quickly dawned on you that they shared more than that. And you were almost disappointed then, always thinking you and the blonde had some sort of connection. But quickly you learnt their shared interest towards you, Wilhemina chatting unusual much with you and wanting to learn about things from your life. Cordelia unusually interested in helping you with your witch craft, despite having the hang of it by then.

And then slowly it turned into a little more, their eyes following your every move, their hands often lingering on yours, the pet names, the invitations just to have dinner with them rather than everyone else, the walks in the garden with Cordelia, the evening tea dates by the fireplace with Wilhemina. And so slowly they opened their private and sacred little life to you, welcoming you in it without question, never questioning the age gap, never questioning the fact it's one more person than most people allow in a relationship. The matching piece as if you had always been there. But somewhere along the lines, throughout the months slowly turning into years, something wasn't working. In the end they had changed, Wilhemina often very agitated, always having a sterner and colder side but taking it out on you more, almost becoming a little physical with you as the last argument involved her throwing around some dishes in frustration.

Cordelia had surprisingly changed too, the academy always being a priority to her but in that time, she never left her office, often you and Mina tried to coax her out of it but she wouldn't leave, often just spending the nights in her office, leaving the loneliness with you and Wilhemina and also the arguments. You felt like you invaded their perfect life and after some more arguments and harsh words you decided to leave, not wanting to intrude on them anymore, not wanting to be intimidated by their love they have for each other anymore. You doubted your decision so many times, from being so happy with them, your life perfect and having all you ever wanted, to being continuously sick to your stomach with heartache and misery.

As the pain and memories continue to drown you in it's intensity, the supreme had made her way to the academy, finding a worried Mina, noticing her change of demeanour and how tired her shoulder looked as she finally made it back to their bedroom. ,,Honey?'' the redhead tried and then it equally poured out of the blonde, telling her about the encounter with you, causing you to cry, how much she misses you and how bad she feels for driving you away. Wilhemina watches in pain as Cordelia sobs into her shoulder, the mere mention of you, causing that same pained expression on Wilhemina's face it had for a year. And so in full circle the night comes to an end, taking the three of you back to the only thing you know- your relationship.

As Cordelia awakens the next morning, confusion washes over her features finding the usual occupied spot next to her empty, shuffling a little before she feels a pounding headache, causing her to fall back on her pillow, probably due to the crying the night prior. Meanwhile Wilhemina has been up early, not being able to sleep a wink, the memories of you keeping her awake during the night. And then when the morning sun finally filtered through the bedroom, she had decided to take matters into her own hands. And with now trembling hands, she finds herself outside of your apartment. Despite not being a witch, the redhead had her ways of finding out things, never having been at your new adress before and if Cordelia knew the lengths her girlfriend went through to find you, she would be left crying again, instead of the headache causing her to fall back to sleep.

The knocking slowly brings your consciousness back, away from sleep that eventually came, despite being broken. At first you thought it was a dream but as the knocking continues, you slowly rise from bed, almost stumbling and falling over your own feet, before making it to your door and opening it, your mind still asleep almost. As you suddenly take in the glimpse of her, you feel like dreaming, not having seen her for an entire year. And just like Cordelia, she looked tired, the little bags under her eyes all the evidence and by her posture and grip on her cane, you can tell she was nervous. You don't say anything, simply taking in her features, your mind convinced this was just a dream and some trick your mind was playing on you. But you enjoyed it nevertheless, taking in the outfit plastered in lilac, her brown eyes piercing right through you and her mere presence causing for your heart to ache.

,,Mi-na'' you whisper, not even aware of how long you had been standing there or that your eyes are again pouring with tears. ,,Y/N'' she speaks softly, her hand twitching as all she wants to do is wipe your tears, wipe your pain and take you into her arms. ,,May I speak with you?'' she tries softly and as if you are suddenly awaken, you welcome her inside, very grateful that your place was spotless. As you walk towards your living room, you catch a glimpse of yourself in the little mirror in your hallway, quickly adjusting your hair that was still messy from sleep and angrily wiping your tears. And then as she takes a seat across from you, it suddenly dawns on you this was no dream, the same perfume and sense of lavender lingering in the air. ,,Would you like some water? or tea?'' you ask politely but she is quick to decline with a head shake.

Silence follows and while the redhead internally scolds herself for not thinking this through properly and trying to find the right words for while she is actually there, sitting in your apartment, you are drowned in flashbacks. The painful ones, the last ones with them. It had been some hard weeks, the coven under the careful inspection of the council due to some incidents with some younger witches, Wilhemina in especially bad pains due to her back. They didn't appreciate you at the time, simply acting as if you are another witch at the academy, not realising how much you actually made their lives better. And then one thing led to another and the three of you drifted apart, every day ending up in arguments, fights, the worst one when Wilhemina on an especially bad day lost her temper in a bad way with you, the two of you in the kitchen, you pushing her a little too much about her pains and how maybe she needed to see a doctor. Her really not in the mindset to even think or talk about it and eventually taking her anger out on you and the dishes in the kitchen. And when Cordelia practically ran downstairs, it was too late, tears filled in your vision, that face that they both never forgot. That face when you gave up, all the good memories of meeting them, of belonging with them, replaced with bad ones. And despite their efforts, it all fell down and you slipped their grasp.

,,Cordelia mentioned seeing you yesterday'' she finally speaks as she clears her throat. Bringing you right back into the present, the flashbacks slowly fading from your mind.

And you knew how much how she hated this. How Wilhemina really wasn't one to have these kind of conversations and you can't help but wanting to make it easier for her. ,,Is she okay?'' you question, concern lingering on your features, wondering why Mina showed up so early on your doorstep as you catch a glimpse of the clock on your living room wall.

,,She-'' the redhead hesitates then, averting your gaze and glancing out the window.

,,She- We miss you'' she confesses, her statement taking you by surprise.

,,I miss you too Mina'' you confess, a small but painful smile creeping it's way onto your features.

That was enough for her, the simply nickname causing for her heart to ache, eyes to close as she holds back the pain. ,,I'm sorry'' you whisper, tears swelling up in your eyes again as suddenly a wave of regret washes over you. Regret for leaving, for not trying again, for never going back.

,,Would you come back to the academy with me?'' she suddenly asks, again taking you by surprise. ,,We would like to talk to you'' she carries on, noticing your hesitation at first and wanting to confirm her intentions.

And the redhead is unaware that you would have said yes already, despite unsure what she was implying. After seeing them again, all you want to do is lay in their arms. All you want to do is forget about everything and move on with them but you also know it wasn't that easy. And so in response, you simply stare at her, unable to actually bring any words out as your heart simply aches. Your silence worries the redhead, unsure if she made a mistake coming here, opening the old wounds again. However Wilhemina never let you go like that, she had observed quietly from a distance, keeping in touch with some girls from the academy on how you had been doing, where you had moved and what you had been doing in the past year. Wilhemina was stubborn but the true reason for letting you go was she felt like you deserved better, better than her outbursts, better than either of them too busy or stressed to appreciate you. But after hearing Cordelia's words and seeing your state, she doubts whether that was a good idea and whether maybe just maybe she, they, would be better for you.

And as silence continues, she sits there, unsure whether to just leave you alone, whether to just take you into her arms. Her brown eyes meet yours again as your gaze is focused somewhere on a wall, staring into nothingness. ,,I'm sorry Y/N'' is all she whispers before balancing on her cane and walking towards the door, misreading your silence. And then within seconds the door closes and you let her slip away, not running after her, not begging for her forgiveness, not saying yes and and coming back with her. You simply sit in silence, before darkness consumes you and a mixture of sleep and a breakdown washes over you, drowning you.

By the time you wake up, Wilhemina had long ago made her way back to the academy, of course not mentioning any of this to Cordelia. The redhead had a hard time coping with rejection and she couldn't tell her blonde girlfriend how she had gone to see you, not wanting to get her hopes up. The rest of the day Wilhemina spends in silence, sitting at her desk, staring at the little photo frame of the three of you that you had purchased for her for one of her birthdays and she never took it down, occasionally shoving it into her desk drawer when Cordelia would ask about it a little too many times. And as dawn begins breaking over the city, the sky filled with little stars, you suddenly find yourself outside those very familiar black iron gates and an all too familiar white building.

Somehow you woke from your state and your feet took you straight there, without even changing your clothes, without taking anything with you. You had ran, for hours, aimlessly through the rain, through the city until your heart guided you to where you wanted to be. And so, half drenched and out of breath, you stand in front of the front door, contemplating whether to actually knock, your confidence suddenly knocked from you, similar to the breath knocked from your lungs as you gasp for breaths. What if they are busy? What if they aren't even in? What if they didn't want to see you? However your thoughts are drawn out, when Cordelia noticed a presence by the door, just having finished cleaning the kitchen after dinner and her supreme senses alerting her of a presence.

Without a care in the world, she opens the door, exposing you there, your eyes staring at her as you still struggle to catch your breath, your hair and clothes dripping from the pouring rain. ,,Y/N?'' she almost gasps, expecting anyone but you. She had longed for this so long, for you to finally come back to them, after the countless attempts of her calling, texting you, even trying to find your location through her magic within the past year, eventually giving up, thinking they had driven you away. ,,Are you okay sweetheart?'' she questions, her head tiling to the side a little, as she frowns at your state.

,,May I come in?'' you begin, finally having the ability to breathe properly again. ,,That's if- um- you aren't busy'' you ramble on before your own anxiety betrays you ,,I guess- you know- I can come back another time'' you hastily stumble over your words, heart beating loudly against your chest as you think over your decision of coming here. As if your heart had somehow led you there and only now your brain kicking in and telling you this was a mistake and to run.

,,No- please sweetheart, come on in'' she invites, with a gentle warm smile, making all the worries melt away.

And so you step inside, following her as she leads you through the white hallway, past the kitchen and dining room, reminding you of all the times you had cooked together, all the times you had shared meals together. Past the living room, where you catch a glimpse of the sofa and fireplace, your safe space where the three of you spent many evenings and weekends together, in the comfortable embrace of each other. Eventually, she leads you up the stairs, halting in front of Wilhemina's office before she turns back to you.

,,Did you come here to see us? or did you want to talk to me?'' she tries, still thinking Wilhemina and you hadn't seen each other since the year before and worrying what your reaction would be like seeing each other.

,,Both of you'' you quickly explain, a little confused as to why Wilhemina wouldn't have mentioned seeing you this morning. She nods, before gently knocking on the redheads office door, waiting for a faint reply.

,,Come in'' she announces and you stand awkwardly behind Cordelia as she opens the door.

,,Darling, Y/N is here to see us'' she explains, scanning the redheads features, unsure how Wilhemina would react. But to her surprise, Wilhemina's features soften, almost relief painting her face as she sees the frame of you behind the supreme.

Cordelia steps aside, allowing you to enter and so you enter, standing a little awkwardly in her office as a shiver runs down your spine. As soon as Wilhemina's eyes fall on you, you feel embarassed. Your cheeks coated in red, standing there soaked and still a little out of breath.

,,Please, take a seat sweetheart'' Cordelia invites you, pointing towards one of the chairs, opposite the redhead and you comply, grateful to get a chance to sit after wandering through the city aimlessly for hours.

Cordelia notices your shivering form and without a word, she walks to a corner before reaching for a blanket and handing it to you. Your eyes meet hers and you take it with shaky hands, averting your gaze as you wrap it around yourself. ,,How do you two feel about some tea?'' she asks and Wilhemina simply nods gratefully, you simply agreeing as well as the supreme leaves you both for a minute.

The room fills with silence as every corner of this house feels it's haunted, every piece of furniture, every room reminding you of your time at the academy, reminding you of your time with your former girlfriends and the memories you had made with them. And when Wilhemina clears her throat, you suddenly shiver in your chair, pulled back into the present. ,,I- I'm sorry to just show up like this'' you apologise, finding the courage to meet the redheads gaze on you.

,,Nonsense Y/N, you are always welcome here- this is your home'' she suddenly blurts out, her own confusion written over her features as if some invisible force took over and made her say the words, lingering on her mind.

Her statement both surprises you and shoots a pang of guilt straight towards your heart. Silence follows as you glance around her office, noticing that not a lot had changed, other than some new plants, that you assume Cordelia had gotten for her. And when your eyes linger on her desk, you recognise the picture frame, wondering whether the same picture was still in it or whether she had replaced it with one of just her and Cordelia. Thinking of the blonde, she enters the room with a little tray, pot of tea and three cups placed neatly on it. With a smile she begins pouring the three of you and handing you a warm mug, the steam forming patterns as you wrap your hands around it, soaking in the warmth.

After she takes a seat next to you, you somehow feel obligated to speak, explain what you are doing here but your words leave you as you struggle to explain. Cordelia ever perceptive, notices the way neither you or her girlfriend share that same painful first meeting after the breakup experience and she can't help but wonder when the two of you had met again, before it suddenly dawns on her, how Wilhemina had been gone this morning, mysteriously showing up again some time later and hiding in her office all day, not even showing up for dinner with the girls, despite the supreme's best efforts. And when the realisation hits of how Wilhemina had reached out to see you, after breaking down in her arms the night before, it almost brings tears to her eyes.

Cordelia and Wilhemina's eyes meet as they take in your quiet form, your eyes focused on the cup of tea, the two of them deciding without words who would speak first, knowing this must be hard on you and the redheads eyes practically begging the blonde to do this part. And with a nod, the supreme begins to speak ,,I'm- We are so glad you are here'' she reassures as she meets your gaze, your eyes locking with her brown ones. A small smile creeps its way onto your features, slowly giving you the confidence to speak.

,,I'm honestly not sure what I'm doing here'' you admit with a nervous chuckle before glancing at Wilhemina. ,,But after seeing you both again, I just ended up here somehow'' you admit.

,,I'm sorry for the way things went this morning'' you apologise to Wilhemina and then she meets her girlfriends gaze, silently apologising for not filling her in on the events but she is met with nothing but understanding from the blonde.

,,I shouldn't have come by unannounced like that'' the redhead admits, slowly taking a sip from her cup, before gently placing it on her desk. ,,I'm sorry little one'' she adds quietly.

And that's enough, enough to make you falter, pour your heart out in front of them, as the words pour from your mouth, tears equally pouring down your cheeks.

,,I haven't been able to think about anything else other than you two in this past year, I'm sorry for leaving, I'm sorry for not coming back home and I miss you both so much, I'm sorry'' you apologise over and over again.

Their hearts equally break at your statement, Cordelia having missed her little sunshine so much, Wilhemina having missed her little one equally as much, if not even more over the past year.

,,Everything I know brings me back to us, Everywhere I go it leads me back to you'' you admit, almost guiltily as you try and wipe your tears, despite them keep pouring.

,,Sweetheart'' Cordelia finally speaks ,,We have missed you so much'' she explains, Wilhemina's serious expression confirming the blondes statement, making it all the more believable.

And then her hands find yours as she gently places your cup on the desk, taking both of your hands into her own. ,,I owe you an apology'' she begins, tears already lingering in her brown orbs. ,,I didn't make enough time for you.. both'' she admits, glancing at Wilhemina as well.

,,I should have never let the academy get between us three'' she finishes, tears now flowing down her cheeks and for some reason you feel the urge to wipe them away but something holds you back.

,,I- I should have reached out to you more, tried to get you to come back to us but at the time I thought it was for the best but in these last few months I have missed you so much. This is your home, you belong here'' she explains, squeezing your hands a little tighter to underline the honesty in her statement.

Wilhemina watches in silence, waiting for Cordelia to finish her apology. She takes a deep breath, her hand gripping tighter around her cane before she speaks ,,I'm sorry too little one''. And that's all she can say for the time being, but you know it came from her heart as those words must have already taken a lot. And so in silence, the three of you sit, the only sound to be heard the silence of the academy and occassional shuffling from some witches downstairs. And with their questioning gazes, you know the question lingering on their minds, but somehow a sense of doubt washes over you, filled with some anxiety. Right now, you can't imagine simply going back to how things were and a part of you doubts that could ever happen again, you worry about your dynamics and how it might have changed even between them in the past year.

,,I don't know what you want sweetheart, but we will always be right here for you'' she reassures and with that statement she makes you doubt again, whether to just falter, forget about the past and move on with them.

And then some invisible force takes over again as exhaustion from the past two days suddenly hit you, causing you to go incredibly quiet and with knowing glances the two of them remember quite well what you are like, whenever you are tired. ,,Are you tired sweetie?'' Cordelia tries and you try and snap yourself out of the sleepiness, blinking some of it away, causing their heart to swell up with love as they see you so tired and adorable. ,,Um yeah'' you shily admit, before Cordelia gives you a little smile.

,,Why don't you stay the night?'' she offers but your heart instantly sinks at her offer. ,,Your old room is still free'' she admits and it swells your heart when you hear they kept it for all these years, despite eventually sharing Cordelia's bedroom with them. And in the blink of an eye, the blonde takes you to your old room, leaving you some warm and dry clothes on the bed, before bringing you some water and leaving you to rest. And after changing, you finally collapse on your bed, unable to think much more about the past or current events and sleep knocks you out gently, guiding you towards dreams softly.

After a while, the two of them settle into bed as well, Cordelia glancing at her girlfriend before whispering ,,What do you think?'' her own anxiety betraying her a little bit. ,,I'm just glad our little one is home where she belongs'' the redhead replies, before pressing a kiss to the supremes forehead and sleep equally greeting them.

It's the middle of the night when you finally wake up from sleep, confused at first at the familiar but unfamiliar surroundings at the same time. Slowly memories from the previous night fill your mind and after blinking the sleep away, you sit up in bed, wrapping the blanket a little closer around you as you notice the change of clothes and Cordelia's soft smell lingering on the clothes she had given you. Glancing around your old bedroom, you notice how empty it was, considering you took all of your belongings to their bedroom in the end, however you notice a stack of something on the desk in the corner and your curiosity gets a hold of you. With slow and gentle steps you walk towards it, the little lamp in the corner that Cordelia had kept on for you, providing you with some light. On the desk you find a stack of letters, neatly wrapped in a purple ribbon and you can't help but take a seat and slowly remove the ribbon before opening some letters.

And with the first one your eyes are already lingering with tears, recognising Wilhemina's handwriting.

,,Dear little one,

Today it's Christmas, our first one without you. As you probably know, I'm not big on these things but seeing Cordelia so sad today, made me miss you even more. I hope that wherever you are, you are happier now, celebrating Christmas with people that love and cherish you. Who are grateful for all the little things you do, who love the little things about you. Your adorable smile, how shy you can be at times but realising how big your heart truly is. It pained me, not being able to see your face light up today when everyone unwrapped their presents, missing how truly grateful you are for whatever you are given. It's almost been a year and not a day goes by where I don't miss you, where Cordelia doesn't cry, where I hate myself for driving you away. I miss you little one, I'm sorry.

Mina''

And with each letter, each confession, tears pour from your eyes, eventually turning into sobs, despite trying to contain them. You knew Wilhemina was never big on words but seeing her emotions so raw and honest touches you deeply. And suddenly you feel the urge to run to them, to hug them, to apologise and to love them again. You already loved them of course, you had never stopped but you needed to tell them, needed to forget about everything that happened and simply move on with them. And this time, nothing holds you back as you make your way past the hallway, not caring about the time as you find yourself outside of their bedroom. And again fate decides to help you out, as both of them had woken a while ago, Cordelia laying in silence as thoughts fill her mind, trying to figure out what to do and how to fix this, Wilhemina equally awake, finding it strange to have you so close, yet so far away. And they both heard shuffling, your door opening and slow but hushed steps walking towards their door before stopping.

At first Cordelia had thought, it may be one of the girls simply going to the bathroom but seeing a little shadow from underneath the door, she is quickly up on her feet, ready to investigate. Wilhemina equally behind her as she suddenly felt the urge to check on you. And so as the door opens, it all comes full circle, the light from the hallway exposing your crying form, a look filled with guilt, longing on your features. ,,Little one are you okay?'' Wilhemina questions quietly, standing behind the supreme but you don't say anything, simply lunging forward and taking the blonde into your arms, holding onto her for dear life as if she was going to slip away again at any moment. Wilhemina watches in silence as the two of you basically collapse into each other's arms, crying into each other and healing. But you feel the urge to pull away, standing in front of Wilhemina with tears in your eyes, your gaze meeting hers.

,,Mina I-'' you try but she is quick to shush you ,,Come here'' she ushers and you quickly comply, holding onto the redhead. And as the night continues, the three of you eventually find yourself truly where you belong, in their bed, you sitting in the middle, both of them next to you while you hold onto each other. Slowly admitting everything to each other, apologising and confessing all the mistakes and your love for each other.

,,We love you little one'' Wilhemina confesses as her lips slowly draw towards yours and capture you in a kiss. And as her lips softly land on your own, you taste tears, but not just your own, for one of the rare times, the redhead sharing her emotions, grateful to have you back with them. ,,We won't ever let you slip away again sweetie, I promise'' Cordelia reassures after the two of you pull away, needing oxygen, as she snuggles into your side. And eventually, everything goes back to normal, the three of you laying in each other's arms. And despite the future unknown a little, a lot of conversation still needing to be held, for now you all know that you have missed each other and you are sorry.

#sarah paulson #cordelia goode #wilhemina venable #ahs #american horror story #sarah paulson x reader #cordelia goode x reader #ahs coven #wilhemina venable x reader

[lanawinters-ily]

The Purple Dragon

Wilhelmina Venable is the most unapproachable, untouchable individual you had ever met, yet she has a soft spot for you. Why?

Pairing: Wilhelmina Venable x Reader

Word Count: 1600

Warnings: mention of struggling with mental health

Wilhelmina Venable was a complex individual. Stand-offish, rude, stubborn. The negative descriptions could go on, yet some element of you felt drawn to her.

Throughout your lifetime you had always sought out hidden meanings - in books, signs, & eventually people. Being a firm believer in the fact that everything happens for a reason, meant that you always thought that people acted a certain way because of a certain thing.

There must be an explanation for everything - past or present. Whether this was a desire to control, or to balance the unknown in life, you didn’t know.

All that mattered was your inquisition. And consequently, this would lead you on the greatest adventure of your life.

You had known her for almost a year, the longest lasting assistant she had ever had. It could be due to your competence, your failure to give up, or possibly some element of Ms Venable.

However, this didn’t make working with the redhead any easier. She was called the ‘purple dragon’ for a reason; holding a fiery passion that most considered anger.

But not you.

Because of this, you had always treated Venable with the kindest of hearts. This was not unusual for you, but even the most saint-like person could crumble with one strike of the redhead’s stony glare. Luckily you had everlasting compassion when it came to even the most difficult of souls.

Well, not all the time.

It was a bad day. One of those days in which the bed is so comfy, so warm, so safe, that it seems impossible to leave. Your heart was heavy, & your mind even more so, dragging your body into the heavy depths; sinking & drowning as you were held down by the currents of numbness.

You should have called in sick, taken a day off for yourself, but you weren’t very good at doing this. Being a burden, a difficulty, seemed far worse than pulling yourself through the workday, so you chose to stumble into the office with the countenance of a particularly exhausted zombie.

Wilhelmina was also having a rough day, waking up with severe pain along her spine. This pain was not only physical, it also brought with it a fair share of mental anguish - mostly made up of resentment & irritation at her weakness.

What only made this worse was what the redhead discovered when she arrived at work. She had forgotten to bring her bag, & therefore, her medication.

Fuck, she cursed.

As the pain increased, she became even more aware of the fact that she couldn’t drive in this condition. She didn’t have a phone or any money either, so it’s not like she could call a taxi to pop home. Wilhelmina was just going to have to grit her teeth & bare it for the next few hours, hoping that the gods would spare her the agony just this once.

“Ms Venable? Are you alright?”

You had appeared in the doorway of Wilhelmina’s office, eyes worriedly scanning her hunched over figure.

The redhead snapped up into an unnoticeable posture, feigning normality despite the pained shudder that rippled through her body.

“I’m just fine Miss Y/L/N.”

It was her turn to do a double take, looking at you with narrowed eyes as she scrutinised your appearance.

“On the contrary, it seems that you are not.”

This was entirely in character for Ms Venable to make such a blunt observation, so you were used to it. However, for some reason, today it was the last straw.

You bursted into noisy tears & sank to the ground. Curled up into a ball, you sobbed uncontrollably, not even caring about who was watching. What you were crying about, you weren’t quite sure. All you knew was that you couldn’t take today, & your emotions had just spilled out in a violent flow.

All you wanted was to lay on this cold, uncomforting floor & fall asleep. Or disappear. Anything would be better than this.

"Hey, sh sh sh," a gentle voice shushed your sobs of despair.

The contrast in tone led you to believe that another of your colleagues had come to your rescue, yet you didn't recognize the voice. You looked up in confusion, only to be met with a blur of purple.

Ms Venable; formidable, heartless, cold Ms Venable was knelt next to you.

"Come on, little one. Let's get you up." She said in a whispered tone.

Half in shock, half still in despair, you allowed yourself to be led to the purple sofa by the window. Your body felt so numb, not feeling Ms Venable's tight grip, or the sofa material as you sank into it. All you could do was sit & stare blankly, too overwhelmed internally to make a sound.

A familiar hand just stroked through your messy hair, silently understanding that words were too much. Lulling you into a calm, dreamlike state, this repetitive motion was just what you needed.

As you caught your heavy breaths & your parasympathetic system took hold, Wilhelmina was facing her own battle.

Her back was still in agony, even more so after kneeling & supporting your weight. Yet, somehow, her heart hurt thrice as much.

She never wanted it to be this way. You were the kindest, sweetest, most gentle person she had ever met. There was an essence about you that was addictive to Wilhelmina, a perfume of lightness that she couldn't help but smell until she was perfectly dizzy with love.

That was the issue. Love.

"Ms Venable," you mumbled. "Your back, you can't be sitting like this it-"

"It's okay little one, I'm alright." She spoke gently. "And call me Wilhelmina."

You noticed. You saw her. If possible, the butterflies in Mina's stomach flew more frantically as she tried to control the deep blush that settled on her cheeks.

God, she felt like a lovesick teenager all of a sudden.

"Okay, Mina." You said cheekily, gaining some colour back to your previously pale disposition.

Wilhelmina gave you a stern look, but it was more a caricature of her usual demeanor, turned soft by you.

You both wanted to say something, but were simply lost in each other's eyes. Her pupils were a rich brown, so deep that you could wander in them for hours and never get bored.

Without warning, she moved closer to you, resting her hand onto your knee. You closed the gap, pulling her into a kiss of fiery passion.

Perhaps she did like being a dragon after all, just not in the way she had expected.

Wilhelmina was hypnotic; a drug, and now you had a taste you just couldn't get enough. And from the way she was kissing you, it seemed as if she was just as addicted.

She was the first to pull away, which made your breath shudder with anxiety. What if she regretted this?

But her comforting hand resting on your cheek, and the look of adoration in her eyes told you otherwise.

"What's going on sweet one, hm?"

You broke her gaze, feeling entirely too vulnerable. There was nothing you hated more than explaining your mental state; it didn't even make sense to you so how were you to express it.

"It's just one of those days Mina, where everything feels...wrong." You sighed. "I don't really know how to say it in a way that makes sense."

"It's okay." Wilhelmina nodded. "I think I get where you're coming from. Sometimes when I'm having a bad day with my back, I can struggle with that too."

"You do?" You said in surprise.

"Yes, darling. I do."

"But you're always so strong. I never would have thought."

"People have different ways of showing it, little one." Mina spoke gently. "I snap at people, I get angry, I scream; all because I feel so out of control."

"Oh." You said. It all made sense now.

This time, she captured your lips in a kiss. It was more slow and steady than the former; a way of saying 'we have time'.

So, you sat there for a while, quietly soaking in each other's presence and stealing a kiss every few moments.

If someone had told you an hour ago that Wilhelmina Venable would be looking at you like this, being gentle with you like this, you would have laughed in their face.

Never did you think that your feelings would be returned, and neither did she.

Suddenly the door creaked open, and one of your colleagues stepped in. Instantly you tensed, waiting for Wilhelmina to turn away from you, to be embarrassed by you.

But she sat, unmoving, as her steely gaze fixed on her new target.

"Susan." She said bluntly. "What have I told you about knocking before disturbing me?"

Now Susan was a fairly confident woman, chatty most times. But in the presence of the purple dragon, she crumbled and stuttered.

"I j-just needed-"

"Needed what? Something so important that you decided to barge straight into my office unannounced? An emergency, perhaps?"

"Well, no but-"

"Well then I'd prefer if you let us be, thank you."

And that was that. Susan scuttled out of the room like a scolded child. To your utmost surprise, Wilhelmina pulled you into her side and kissed your hairline.

"No harm will come to you now I'm around, little one."

"I love you Mina."

"I love you most, my sweet."

#wilhemina venable x you #wilhemina x reader #wilhemina venable x reader #wilhemina venable #ahs #ahs apocolaypse #american horror story #sarah paulson x reader

[marsthebabie]

Work trip

Wilhelmina Venable x Cordelia Goode x reader 

Tw: Attachment issues, maybe cussing, Mina being mean.

Momma is Mina

Mommy is Cordelia

"NO! Please mommy! Please don't go" I cry holding onto Mommy's dress. "Baby please let go of my dress. I have to go. I'll be back soon. I promise" Mommy says trying to leave. I just cry harder as Momma removes my fingers from Mommy's dress. "Come on Angel let mommy go. She has to go on a work trip" Momma says softly to me. I reach my hands out to mommy as I sob loudly. Mommy kisses me on the head quickly before walking out the door with her suitcase.

"It's okay Love. Shh easy baby" Momma says stroking my hair . Usually I wouldn't do this but I want Mommy. I smack momma's hand away and I instantly regret it knowing what happens when I act up. Momma swiftly picks me up and sets me down in the corner. " 3 minuets in time out. We do not hit" Momma says walking away. I curl up in the corner and cry missing my mommy so much. Momma comes back when my time is up. She sighs as she watches me cry. "Oh honey. She'll be back don't worry" Momma says but I just continue to cry. I decide to crawl to the front door and wait for mommy to come home. After a while momma comes to me.

"Alright Y/N this is enough. Come on" Momma says sternly. I don't move an inch. Momma sighs before picking me up. I thrash around in her arms and start sobbing loudly. "P-put me down! I need to waits for mommy" I cry. "Y/N, you need to stop this. Just grow up for pete's sake" Momma spits out. I manage to get out of her hold. "I hate you! You a big meanie" I yell before running to my room sobbing  and slamming the door shut. I curl up on the bed with the shirt that mommy wore because it smells like her. I sobbed into her shirt and I eventually fall asleep from crying. I wake up to someone calling my name and a hand stroking my hair. I sit up and see momma. I instantly start sobbing and I wrap my arms around her.

"I'm so sorry momma! I don't hate you. I'm so sorry momma! Please don't leave me" I say sobbing into her chest. She wraps her arms around me and softly rubs my back. "Shh it's okay sweetling. And baby, I would never hate you or leave you for anything. You are way too important to me. And I love you so much. I'm sorry for being mean and not understanding cutie"Momma says softly. I cuddle close to her and we decide to watch movies together for the rest of the day. A couple of days go by and Momma and I are cuddling on the couch.

When all of a sudden I hear the door unlock and I quickly sit up. I stare at the front door as it opens and in comes mommy. I quickly get up tripping on a blanket and I get up and run into mommy's arms. "Mommy"I beam wrapping my arms around her. She shuts the door and picks me up. I hold onto her tighter as I start sobbing into her hair. "Oh honey don't cry" She says sweetly. "I-I sowwy..I-i jwust miss chu so much" I say sobbing. "Aw baby, I missed you too" Mommy says kissing my head.Mommy carried me to the couch and sat down next to momma. I soon stop crying and start playing with mommy's hair. "How was she" Mommy asked momma making me pause and look at momma. "we had...some issues. But this little angel and I worked through it and she behaved very well" Momma says winking at me making me giggle.

#cordelia goode #cordelia goode x reader #wilhemina venable #wilhemina venable x reader #ahs fandom #ahs coven #ahs apocalypse #american horror story #age regression #age regressor #agere #agere blog #agere caregiver #agere community #agere little #agere post #sfw age regression #sfw agere #fandom agere #agere fandom #agere fic #agere fanfic #sfw little community #sfw regression #sfw littlespace #sfw little blog #sfw interaction only #age regression caregiver #sfw caregiver

[marchtomydrums]

Lesson Learned

Cordelia Goode x Wilhemina Venable x Ally Mayfair x Reader (mother/ daughter)

“Come on y/n just do it!” Maddison shouts at you getting impatient.

“Chill Mads if she doesn't want to do it she doesn't have to,” Queenie says.

Zoe nods as she looks at you “Don't do it y/n those things are bad for you anyways.”

Maddison rolls her eyes “You guys are such babies. It's fine. All of the older girls smoke. “

“So you do what everyone else does?” Queenie snips back.

“I'm sorry who is the cool one in this group?” Maddison asked.

“Not you!” Queenie says.

The three girls go into a frenzy of arguing back and forth as you held the rolled-up cigarette in between your fingers. It couldn't be that bad you thought to yourself.

You placed the cigarette in between your lips and you lit the end watching the first clouds of smoke roll out.

It really was like a smoke signal making all of the girls go quiet and look toward you.

Maddison smirked “Finally someone with some balls. Now inhale.” she says.

You did as she said breathing in deeply feeling the smoke fill up your lungs and blowing it out quickly.

You choke on the smoke getting caught in your chest causing you to cough loudly.

“Jesus this is awful,” you said coughing in between your words.

“You’ll get used to it,” Madison shrugs as she inhales smoothly and blows out rings of smoke toward Zoe.

“Y/n Y/M/n what on earth are you doing?!” you hear a voice shout behind you.

“Oh shit,” Queenie whispers.

You slowly turned around finding brown eyes glaring at you.

“Ally...I”

“Do you know how dangerous these things are? What they can do to your health?” she asked snatching the cigarette from you and putting it out.

“Give it to me Madison and the rest of whatever you have,” she says holding her hand out.

“You're not my mother. “ the blonde chuckles.

“She's not. But I am your supreme and I'm telling you to hand it over. Now.” Cordelia says walking up behind you.

Madison rolls her eyes as she hands over the pack she got this morning.

“You guys are ridiculous,” she complained.

“Thank you. Now all of you go to your rooms.” Cordelia shouts.

The girls quickly move past the two women heading inside. You tried to hide in the middle of them hoping to escape when you feel a hand on your shoulder pulling you back.

“Not you,” Ally says pulling you towards her.

You sighed as you watched the girls escape to their rooms. It was times like these that you wished you weren't the daughter of the supreme.

“Y/n what were you thinking?” Cordelia asked.

“I'm sorry. Madison said it wasn't a big deal. I was just trying it.”

“You know better than to listen to Madison,” Ally says.

“I know.”

“And you know how I feel about smoking,” Cordelia adds.

“But you let the older girls...”

“The older girls are just that older. They're all old enough to buy them and old enough to make their own choices. It's not a choice that I like but I can't stop them. As long as they follow the rules about keeping it outside and cleaned up that's all I can ask of them.”

“Y/n it's not a habit you want. It's nasty for your health. It makes you smell and it's extremely addicting. “ Ally adds.

“I'm sorry,” you mumbled looking down.

“Honey I know it's hard growing up and you're going to want to try things. But some things aren't worth trying. I promise you aren't missing out when it comes to these.” Cordelia says shaking the box of cigarettes.

“I know. It tastes gross and it made me cough really bad. I won't do it again.”

Your mothers smile “Good!” they both say in unison.

“But... We still have to tell Momma and I don't think she's going to let you off so easily,” Cordelia says.

Your eyes grow wide as you shake your head. “No Mom, please. Please don't tell Momma. She will kill me and Madison.”

“You know we don't keep secrets from one another.”

“I know but...please,” you begged as tears pricked your eyes.

“ I’m sorry sweetheart but you know how this works. The three of us don't hide things from one another and we all make decisions together. We will talk to her and go from there.” Cordelia says as she kisses your forehead.

Cordelia walks back into the house leaving you and Ally outside.

“Well get a good look at me Al. I’ll be dead soon.” you cried.

Ally chuckles as she shakes her head pulling you into her arms for a hug.

“Oh sweets you're not going to die. She loves you too much to kill you. Now Madison on the other hand....”

“Ally!”

She laughs “ I'm kidding. We will talk to her sweets okay? But please promise me you won't smoke again. I love you too much to lose you. “

“I promise Al. “

“Good. I love you, sweets,” she says with a smile.

“I love you too.”

“Y/n Y/M/n!!!” you hear your redhead mother scream from inside.

“Ahh man,” you whined.

Ally chuckles as she lops her arm in yours.

“Come on sweets.”

“I'm never listening to Madison again.” you groaned as Ally all but dragged you into the house.

#writing #fiction #television #poly representation #cordelia goode x reader #ahs coven #ahs apocalypse #ahs cult #ally mayfair richards #cordelia goode #wilhelmina venable x reader #madison montgomery #zoe benson #queenie

[obscure-song-tournament]

Obscure Song Tournament Masterpost - Round One!

Bracket images + list below the cut. (Long post)

Extremely apologies for that fucked up formatting, it was the easiest way for me to set it up & now I don’t feel like redoing it <3

BRACKETS

Matches will be updated with links when the posts go up :-) (links removed when votes finished. Link link whyyyyy </3)

A

虚に産まれた毒蟲達の選択 - Haint VS. Keep Away - Insane Driver

Manchester - Lana Wild VS. Pulp Friction - Fool Heavy

Scatterbrain - Casual Tees VS. Dopamine - The Fundementals

Angelic 2 the Core - Corey Feldman VS. Sad Hit Song - V is for Villains

Cosmos - Jawbreaker Reunion VS. Patches - Jawbreaker Reunion

John Congleton & The Nighty Nites VS. Away From You - Nicole

New Dance - DEERPEOPLE VS. Not My Good Side - Deafpony

Maple Leaf Etc. - Maxshh VS. Give Me a Moment - 2far2jump

B

Goodbye Goodnight - Eudora June VS. Mama - Eudora June

The Helper - Giannah Noelle VS. The Hummingbird - Miss E

Worm Song - Sunny Side Down VS. Victim of a Siren - Seraph Siege

There’s a Darkness (but There’s also a Light) - The Wild VS. Ray - Dylans TIE

Alive - GON VS. Red - Oh Dorian

You are Loved - David Lamotte VS. Getting Around to it(Maybe) - Ollie Oxyn

Timed Out - blockkids VS. Where U Goin? - Half In the Bag

All That I Am - Maia Grandy VS. For Me - Dearlie

C

The Hidden Word - Noe Venable VS. Echo in the Hills - Carrie Elkin TIE

Hold Onto Myself - Yendawg VS. YOUR GALAXY - ROZLYN PELL

critter song - tidepooler VS. Juliet and Juliet - Kactus Kid

Low Rent Truman Show - Marc with a C VS. Body Heat - Guard Petal

Pub Money - Bag of Cans VS. Take a Peek - Heat Above

Daddy Daedalus watched me GO DOWN IN FLAMES! - lonely carp VS. The Danger - Patricia Wallinga(twt: @ pwallinga)

Call Me Captain - Emrys Layne (tumblr: @ callmecapt) VS. Insecurity Impermanence - Ian Woodside

Deep Blue - Grapefruit VS. You’re So Hot To Me - Commuted

D

Fly Octo Fly Piano Arrangement - Original - ButterShutter VS. PIANO GAMES - Hazma Notes

Devil’s Game - Lonovve VS. Worst in the World - Uncle Outrage

Cheese (Original Mix) - Cheese VS. The Best Poop of Your Life - Squatty Potty

Сопряжение сфер - Ясвена VS. Hokutoshichisei no Ichiya - Akiko Ikuina

Pink Clouds - Sammy J VS. There Will be Someone at My Funeral Who Doesn’t Want to be There - Sammy J

The Crayon Song - Class of 3000 VS. Eco - Jim Valley

Kinky Murder Machine - Slav the Dog VS. TECVM CIRCVMAMBVLARE NOLO - John Linnel

Imagination - Niel Innes VS. Me & Nikolai - Pale Young Gentlemen TIE

E

Checking My Pulse - Alix Olsen VS. Eat Your Heart Out, Sigmund Freud - Mollie Maxwell

Pink Lemonade - Kristi Krause VS. Don’t Want You - Carpark

Home(Here) - Big Tree VS. Runaways - Big Tree

Przyszłam do miasta - Ballady I Romanse VS. 10,000 Days - OK Glass

Cross My Heart - Richard Myhill VS. Hurricane - My Cat Umi

Bitches (Do as Bitches Are) - Brain’s All Gone VS. Rotten - Missouri Surf Club

Born To It - Freefonix VS. No Place Like Home - Freefonix

8:15 - 3:30 VS. last week/month/year - rain

F

Pointillize - Raccoon Fink VS. Tokyo Koya - Van

execute - ninty VS. Bloodlust - ninty

Better Red than Dead - KELChip VS. Bloodbird - KELChip

EGO - Powderpaint VS. Tax Evasion Scheme Artist - Golden Line

.. - subeteanatanoseidesu VS. Fictional Girl - cindersnow

Nighttime (I fall asleep) - SamX VS. No Time at All - MORE

GOTH BITCH DUB - 621 gecs VS. BORKYCORE - ida deerz (ft. kaj strife)

To.Get.Her - Nixis VS. Hyper Arcade - Glass Daydreams

G

Dusk and Dawn - Das Fi VS. Full of Light - Le Professeur

Between You and Me - Clementine Werchola VS. Digital Love - SilverTunes

I Wish Was Dead - Cherry and the Other People VS. Monmon_Fanmoran - Mochitsune

Splitter Girl - Weevildoing VS. Can Graze the Roof bring you back to childhood? - Anomaly Vector

Moongrains - Anomaly Vector (ft Gumi Ai) VS. Memories - Jens East (Ft Lotta Rasva) TIE

Black Plate - Profilgate VS. Ode to Janey Lou - FOE

It’s Murder - Skeleton Staff VS. The Dreaming - Marquis of Vaudeville

Best Friend - Taitoki VS. Chakra - Marnage

H

Rusalka and The Shepherd Girl - The Forgetmenauts VS. Minesweepers - Peter Bellamy

Four Tall Trees - Leslie Fish VS. Carmen Miranda’s Ghost - Leslie Fish

Butterfly/Drowsy Maggie - Double Indemnity VS. Captain Ward - Tempest

The Finchley Waltz - Robin Grey VS. The Trials Of Oscar Wilde - Alan John

Blood and Passion - Alexander James Adam VS. Winter’s Tooth - Alexander James Adam

He of Sidhe - Alexander James Adam VS. Curiosity - JTSteam

they say you see the sparrow fall - pabrizzer VS. Labyrinth - Madeline S

Star Fire - Julia Ecklar and Cynthia McQuillin VS. The Phoenix - Julia Ecklar

I

Liar and the Hound - Beneath Eden VS. Song For Sandy - Thirsty Moon

Snake in the Grass - Couch Slut VS. Bodysuit - FlooringCo

On a Walk - Fort Womb VS. Pause Button - Particle Devotion TIE

Death is a Girl - Skippocalyptic VS. Sea ll - Momoi ALLU

52 Pickup - Z. VS. Are You Underwater - The Gerbils

山谷澗 - Mysterain小雨樂隊 VS. Lately - Strip the Image

J

613 - FC the Kid VS. Never Be Famous - Hussalonia TIE

Too Hot - Jay Safari VS. Lhasa -Shapaley

We Made it - JAMIEvx VS. Collide - Harold J TIE

412 (coffin built for two) - Mollie Maxwell VS. Vampire Bop - Feel Spectres

No Bird Sing - Plastic Lines VS. Unretractable Fact - Second Person

SCARY* - EXIT ONLY VS. THREATS - ILLFIGHTYOU

Real Woman - comfort VS. Preserve - PETROLEUM! GENDERLOSS

See You in The Pit - Rotten Youth VS. No Proposals - Physical Plant

K

Rebels - Old Death Whisper VS. Maneater - Blue Eved Blondes

Candy - Joe Mama VS. la somnambule - La Femme Pendu & Damien Done

Center Stage - Howard Martin VS. Lethal Temptress - The Mendoza Line (COVER)

Gears of the Atom Man - Angels of Liberty VS. Inhuman Liberty - Dr. Arthur Krause

Wake Up Girl - Skeeter Truck VS. Pennies in my Pocket - Stamen and Pistols

Flower Gurl - Ronen VS. Dark Rip - Teen Girl Scientist Monthly

Heart of the TARDIS - Time Crash VS. Trust Me - Time Crash

The Machine - Asta Wylie VS. Not Yet - Leo and the Little Things

L

Grace - Raelle VS. Transfixed - Joss Smith, NUYD

Animal - Xisco Feijoó VS. No Me Lames - Natalia Cassis

Hyperphantasia - Fearful Earful VS. We Who Are About To Live - Le Professeur

Tonight Eternity Alone - Rene Claus VS. HEAD OF HOLOFERNES - lonely carp

Milá má - Nahore VS. Cardigan Sweater - Jasmine Kennedy TIE

Side B - Alohaha VS. Side A - Alohaha

The Binding Of Isaac - Schmekel VS. the man who wasn't there - A Fictitious Band

Let It Go - The Murder of Crows VS. Slip! - Bright Orange

M

Boy who Blocked the Sun - Demi the Daredevil VS. Rainy Day Georgia - Jayne Trimble TIE

Burn it Down with Math - Deuce of Gears VS. Camouflage - Ed's Redeeming Qualities

Reach - Rachel West VS. Haircut Song - Shannon Moser

BurnerPhone - Dirty Heathen (ft. Bittersweet Evergreen) VS. Reunion - Brent Spiner & Maude Maggart

Deadname Birthday - The Timewasters VS. Small Parts of Something Much Larger - Suns

STILL FEEL IT - caseJackal VS. Sunshine and Lollipops 2020 - Sad Snack

Smooth Operator - Supernothing VS. Say What You Want - Growth Spurt

Бетонные блоки - Truckdrivers VS. Mirèmèngies - Edona Vatoc

N

Have You Ever Seen a Duck, Like, in Real Life? - lisa the beauty queen VS. Zip Ties and SSRIs-Dinosawh

Housekeeper- Faun Fables VS. Kill the King - Rabbit Rabbit Radio

Caroline - Espers VS. Mega Mouse - Putrid Shark

Whiskey and Water - Parader VS. Tales of the Phantom Ship - Nathan

Raising the Dead! - Jessica Law VS. Lotus Eaters - Jessica Law TIE

Autism Murder Memorial- Fit to Work VS. All Cats are Beautful - Fit to Work

Moon - Feel Spectres VS. Blow Up the Moon - Feel Spectres

All For Me Grog! - Spud Bugs VS. A Place We Could Call Home (Turncoat Collective) - Spud Bugs

O

Reclaim - Porch Cat VS. Perspectives - The Cast Before the Break

Orpheus on Ice - The Small Calamities VS. Violin Concerto in the Key of Crippling Regret - The Small Calamities TIE

Paint By Numbers - From Fragile Seeds VS. Homme Offer Knee - Ben Below

Tomb Song - Nora Keyes VS. Hold My Heart - The Dune Sea

Each Time She Calls - Jessie Goslin VS. Daisies - Heather and Hay

A Catalyst - Blood Crying Twinks VS. flexible guy - clown residue

Howard - Demo - Mother Aiden VS. going thru it - teamonade

Blooming Strangely - Ginger & Pear VS. Pressed - Ginger & Pear

P

Alright! Heartcatch Precure! - Aya Ikeda VS. 恐竜あげみざわ★ - Kyouruu Friends

星の旅人 - Sayaka Senbongi & Yumiri Hanamori VS. Gyokuza no GEMINI - Eclipse

The End of the World - Fred Deakin VS. Weekend Anarchist - MEMODEMO

運命は “I" Love You - チームDEKAI VS. Endure Emptiness - Kain Vinosec

Heritage of Sampled Electronic World - KR. Palto47 VS. Ultimate Performance of Abandoned Magic Boxes ~Rack of Junks - KR. Palto47

Liminal Spaces - Logan Fredricks VS. 薔薇は美しく散る × 輪舞-revolution - okurigi66

297回の試行 - Image44 VS. 川のそばで - Image44

DiViNE - EXiNA VS. We'll make a monster of you - Freefonix

#not polls #poll related #obscure song tournament #long post

[thesapphictimelady]

Sacred Purity Chapter 9

Word Count: 2.4K

Warnings: Lesbian relationship, aphrodisiacs, domme/sub relationship, HEAVY on the religious kink aspect, and a touch of wax play

Characters: Wilhemina Venable, Cordelia Goode, and OC

A/N: Merry Christmas to everyone who celebrates it!!

“Miss Goode, you’ve outdone yourself,” Ms. Venable said, stroking Sister Anastasia’s hair.

“I’ve told you, Mina, call me Cordelia!”

Sister Anastasia bit her lip, knees still weak from her training session with Miss Goode. Ms. Venable used the tip of her cane to tilt the young woman’s chin up, forcing her to meet her gaze.

“And what do you say to our guest?”

“Thank you, Miss Goode. It’s been a pleasure to have you,” Sister Anastasia recited, remembering the lessons in etiquette from Ms. Venable.

Miss Goode smiled softly before grabbing her by the back of the head and kissing her hungrily, her tongue teasing the younger woman’s before she nipped her bottom lip and pulled away, earning herself a disapproving look from Ms. Venable.

“The pleasure was all mine,” Miss Goode purred.

Ms. Venable grit her teeth as Miss Goode kissed her cheek and walked out the front door. Once the door was closed, she turned to Sister Anastasia, leaning on her cane and reaching out to grab the younger woman’s hair.

“Let me make one thing very clear, little girl,” she said, pulling her hair to bring her closer, “You belong to me. Miss Goode may have touched you, trained you, kissed you. But you are mine. Am I understood?”

“Yes, Ms. Venable!” Sister Anastasia let out a soft moan as Ms. Venable’s cold fingers wrapped around her throat.

Ms. Venable laughed and released her, “Miss Goode told me that you were dripping onto the floor in my office.”

“Y-yes Ms. Venable. But I cleaned it up!” Sister Anastasia blushed and fidgeted with her hands.

“I know you did, little one. But she didn’t let you cum did she?”

Sister Anastasia shook her head, pressing her thighs together, trying to find some relief for the ache in her core. Ms. Venable gripped her chin with one hand while the other used her cane to push the young woman’s thighs apart.

“Ah ah ah. I didn’t give you permission. Oh, you poor sweet thing. Not being allowed to cum all day…tell me, Sister, would you like to be allowed to cum?”

“Yes!” She gasped out.

Ms. Venable smiled cruelly, “Please. What.”

“Please, Ms Venable! I want to cum!”

“Louder.”

“Please, Ms Venable, please let me cum!”

Sister Anastasia shivered at the predatory glint in her eyes.

“Go to your room and put on what I laid out for you. And under no circumstances are you to touch yourself. I will know if you do and I will make you regret it.”

The young woman gulped and scampered off to her room, flipping on the light and shutting the door. She let out a squeak of surprise when her eyes fell on the bed.

On the bed lay her habit. Clean and pressed, waiting for her like an old friend. She quickly picked it up and buried her face in it, breathing in the familiar scent of the convent. It had faded somewhat, replaced by the scent of lavender, but she could still smell the spicy scent of the incense that filled the convent.

Sister Anastasia quickly pulled off her short dress, shivering at the chill in the room as she pulled on her habit. After further inspection, she realized Ms. Venable had neglected to lay out undergarments. She weighed her options as she braided her hair back and tucked it under her veil. She could surely find underwear in the dresser, but was she allowed to wear them? Ms Venable hadn’t given her clear instructions on it.

A knock at the door startled her out of her thoughts and she jumped up to answer the door. Ms. Venable was on the other side, wearing…a habit. Sister Anastasia pulled the door open and looked the other woman up and down. She was wearing the long habit of a Mother Superior, although it was in her usual purple rather than the traditional black. Her long red hair was tucked beneath a veil.

Ms. Venable smirked at the young woman and beckoned her to follow her. Sister Anastasia followed her down the hallway, sniffing the air curiously. The hall was filling with the same spicy scent of her habit. Ms. Venable turned to face her and smiled.

“After you, Sister,” she said, opening the door.

Sister Anastasia stepped into the room and gaped. The room had been converted into a rudimentary altar. A censor sat in the middle of the room, clearly the source of the incense, and on the altar table were the gold candlesticks that had been stolen from the convent. A leather gloved hand reached out to brush her veil aside, before a cold chain was put around her neck.

“Now you look the part,” Ms. Venable purred as she clasped the cross around her neck.

“What is all this? Ms. Venable, did you steal-“

“Ah ah, hush Sister. It’s Mother Superior to you tonight. And you will treat me with the same respect you do for her. Understood?”

“Y-yes Mother Superior”

“Good. Now, I do believe it is time for Vespers. Would you care to lead?”

Sister Anastasia gaped at her, trying to figure out what her plan was. She wanted her to lead an evening service? Ms. Venable pulled a lighter out of a hidden pocket of her habit and handed it to her. She quickly busied herself with lighting the candles, venerating the lone icon the older woman had procured as she passed by it. Once the candles were lit, she returned to the middle of the room, in front of the altar.

“I believe you know the prayers, Sister?”

“Of course, Ms. Venable.”

A sharp crack filled the air as the older woman’s cane made contact with Sister Anastasia’s ass.

“It’s Mother Superior, Sister.”

“Yes, Mother Superior!” she cried out, nearly falling onto the carpet.

“Good. You may begin at any time.”

Sister Anastasia took a deep breath before crossing herself and bowing her head.

“Blessed is our God always, now and ever, and unto ages of ages.”

“Amen,” Ms. Venable whispered behind her, resting one hand on the young woman’s hip.

Sister Anastasia took a shaky breath, “O Heavenly King, the Comforter, the Spirit of Truth who are everywhere and fills all things. Treasury of Blessings, and Giver of Life: Come and abide in us, and cleanse us from every impurity, and save our souls, O Good One.”

Ms. Venable’s hand slowly drifted from her hip up to fondle one of her breasts. Sister Anastasia tried to pull away, earning herself a sharp pinch to her nipple.

“Continue, Sister Anastasia,” Ms. Venable hissed in her ear.

“Come, let us worship God, our King. Come, let us worship and fall down before Christ, our King and our God. Come, let us worship and fall down before Christ Himself, our King and our God.”

Sister Anastasia let out a soft cry as the older woman’s cane lifted the hem of her habit and her hand found its way to grope her ass.

“I think it’s my turn, don’t you?”

“Yes, Mother Superior,” the young woman whispered.

Ms. Venable cleared her throat, humming the tone that she needed while pulling Sister Anastasia’s habit up past her hips, slipping a finger between her folds.

“Our Father, who art in heaven,” she began, pulling up her one habit and letting her purple strap prod at the younger woman’s folds, “Thy kingdom come, Thy will be done, on Earth as it is in Heaven,”

Sister Anastasia moaned as Ms. Venable pushed her forward and bent her over the makeshift altar before thrusting the dildo into her, giving her little time to adjust before she began to fuck her roughly, shaking the candlesticks.

“Give us this day our daily bread, and forgive us our trespasses as we forgive those who trespass against us, and lead us not into temptation,” Ms. Venable rested one hand on the altar to steady herself as she used the other to rub Sister Anastasia’s clit, “But deliver us from the evil one. For Thine is the kingdom and the power and the glory, now and ever, and unto ages of ages.”

“Amen!” Sister Anastasia moaned, pressing her hips back, trying to draw the older woman’s strap deeper.

Ms. Venable laughed and leaned down to whisper in her ear, “You’ve caused me to sin, Sister. ‘Thou shalt not covet.’ But that’s all I’ve done since the day I saw you on those cameras.

I’ve been dreaming of sinking my fingers into your greedy little pussy.”

Sister Anastasia whined as the older woman pulled her strap out, leaving her clenching around nothing.

“I believe that calls for punishment. Don’t you? After all, lust is one of the seven deadly sins.” Ms. Venable took a step back from the altar, picking up one of the thin candles and holding over the young woman’s bare ass, letting a drop of the wax fall onto the pale skin.

Sister Anastasia cried out in surprise, her muscles tensing at the light burning sensation, “Yes Mother Superior!”

“But will this be penance enough? I don’t think so. I think you’ll need something more,”

Ms. Venable let the candle drip for a moment longer before setting it back in its stand, humming thoughtfully as she walked around the room. The young nun squirmed from her place on the altar, not daring to look up to see what she was doing.

“You’ll need further punishment, Sister. Not only have you caused me to sin, you’ve also broken your vows of chastity. In the old days, you would have been buried alive as punishment. However, I’m not that cruel. Really, you’re lucky I’m the one who is punishing you.”

Ms. Venable leaned heavily on her cane as she came back to the altar, carrying a glass vial, a priest’s stole, a chalice, and a paten. She carefully removed her habit before helping Sister Anastasia out of hers. She motioned for the young woman to lay across the altar, using the stole to bind her hands to the table.

“You need to be cleansed, Sister. We’ll start with holy oil,” Ms. Venable uncorked the vial and spread Sister Anastasia’s legs, dripping the oil onto her lower stomach. Once she was satisfied with the amount, she started rubbing it into her skin.

Sister Anastasia trembled in anticipation and pleasure. The oil warmed her skin as it was rubbed up across her breasts and then down to her inner thighs. She squealed when two fingers slid into her pussy. She was aching with need and bucked her hips, earning herself a light slap to her thigh.

“Stay still, Sister. I’m not done with you yet.”

She whined but did her best to still her hips, Ms. Venables long fingers rubbing her walls.

Ms. Venable hummed again, using her free hand to trace crosses along her body with the oil.

“Now, I do believe it’s time for the sacraments of Eucharist.”

“But that’s not-“ Sister Anastasia started to correct her, to tell her that Eucharist is done with a priest present and rarely during Vespers, but the look she gave her was enough for her to shut her mouth.

Ms. Venable lifted the chalice to the young woman’s lips, “Drink of it, this is my blood of the new covenant,”

Sister Anastasia opened her mouth and swallowed the wine. It was drier than most wines she had had in the past and she coughed. Ms Venable smirked down at her before she lifted the paten, holding the single piece of bread to her lips.

“Take, eat, this is my body which is broken for you, for the remission of sins.”

Sister Anastasia obediently ate it, the sweet bread a welcome relief to the taste of the wine. There was a glint in Ms. Venable’s eyes that unsettled her, but she swallowed down the urge to tug at her bindings and get free.

“Blessed are you, O Sister, and Blessed is the fruit of your womb.”

Sister Anastasia opened her mouth to ask what she meant but before she could get a word out, Ms. Venable ducked between her legs and began to nip her inner thighs, eliciting a moan. She threw her head back in pleasure, barely noticing the heat that began to spread across her body. She was so pent up that she nearly came the second Ms. Venable’s tongue touched her clit.

Ms. Venable laughed and pulled away, “Are you going to cum already? I knew those aphrodisiacs were strong but I didn’t think they’d take effect this fast.”

Sister Anastasia could barely hear her over the roaring in her ears, she was desperate to cum, her body felt hot and the air was electric around her. She tugged at the stole that bound her hands, desperate to get free so that she could touch herself. Ms. Venable blew across her pussy and she exploded. Stars danced in her eyes as she writhed on the altar, barely registering the corrupted prayers being murmured against her clit.

Ms. Venable lapped up every drop of cum, never letting up for a second, sliding a single finger into the young woman’s pussy and teasing her walls. She used one hand to reach up and pick up the chalice, now empty of the drugged wine, and held it beneath her pussy, teasing a second orgasm out of the young nun and allowing the cum to drip into the chalice.

“Blessed are you, O Sister, for you shall inherit the Earth,” Ms. Venable murmured, kissing her thighs as she came down from her third orgasm.

“Please Mother Superior, I can’t…”

“Sister Anastasia, do you think you know better than me?”

“N-no!”

“Then you will take what I give you. You can give me one more can’t you?”

Sister Anastasia nodded weakly, the coil in her belly already tightening as Ms. Venable added two more fingers into her pussy.

“Blessed are you, O Sister, for you shall be filled.”

Sister Anastasia nearly screamed as the coil in her belly snapped and she came for the fourth time. Ms. Venable guided her through it before she rose, leaning heavily on the table, untied the stole, and brought a glass of water to the nuns lips.

“Drink, Sister. Your sins have been washed away.”

Sister Anastasia gulped down the water, her body still trembling from the strength of her orgasms. Ms. Venable gently draped a blanket over the shoulders.

“You did very well. I’m proud of you, Sister.”

“Thank you,” Sister Anastasia set down the glass and looked curiously at the chalice that Ms. Venable now held, “Where did you get all of this?”

“That is for me to know, Sister. Now, let’s get you into a nice hot bath, shall we?”

#wilhemina venable #venable x oc #ahs fanfiction #ahs apocalypse #sacred purity #venable smut

[blxckchxrrybxby]

Couples Retreat

Pairing(s): Cordelia Goode x Wilhemina Venable, Diane Sherman, Billie Dean Howard, Mildred Ratched x Gwendolyn Briggs, Ally Mayfair-Richards, Y/N, **Mentions Ivy**

summary: What happens when a Couples Retreat turns out to be more stressful than pleasurable?

wordcount: 2.02k

“Please have your boarding pass ready. First-class boarding for Lucia, California will begin in approximately twenty minutes. Thank you.”

You huffed as you listened to the sound of the attendant over the speaker and tried your luck at calling Ivy again. A frown etched itself onto your face as your hands searched through your carry-on for your pass. The phone she had bought you laid snug between your shoulder and cheek. After a few trills, the call was sent to voicemail for the umpteenth time this morning. Usually, you weren’t the type to waste your emotions on someone’s voicemail, but you were fed up.

“Ivy, how dare you not show up for this idiotic trip that you insisted we go on! You've got ten minutes to get your ass here.” You vented in a hushed and angry tone into the microphone. You weren’t completely sure why she wasn’t returning your calls, when in fact, you both had just spent time together yesterday. It wasn’t like her to miss your calls unless she was busy working at her restaurant. Aside from that, what other responsibilities did she possess?

As you tried your best to calm your nerves, you decided to head over to one of the main windows and watch the planes take off. The air was dewy, and the sun had barely begun to rise, but thankfully, this kind of weather soothed you the most. As you leaned against the wall, your mind wandered back to Ivy.

Meanwhile—in the nearest coffee shop—two women sat, relishing in simple conversation.

“Aren’t you thrilled?” Cordelia asked, laying a comforting hand on the redhead across from her. She gazed fondly as her lover sipped the scalding black coffee and placed it down onto the coaster. With both women being punctual as ever, they managed to make it to the airport far earlier than expected. This of course allowed them to spend some well-deserved time together before the flight took off.

“To be surrounded by a bunch of paired-up imbeciles? I’m ecstatic.”

The monotonous response made the witch chuckle, “I’m sure you are. I can hear the excitement.”

With a huff, Wilhemina responded, “Why must we take the plane?” She leaned closer to her wife, whispering, “Couldn’t we use your magic?”

“Nope.” The Supreme smiled, after popping the ‘p’ rather obnoxiously. “Being around people will be good for us. You’ve rarely been out of that Godforsaken office of yours for weeks, and this may be my only chance to step away from the Coven.”

Wilhelmina mentally rolled her eyes as she sipped on her coffee again, still not fond of the idea of spending more than an hour on a plane. Surely the destination would not be worth the hassle of soothing the pain those horrid seats would cause against her back.

Noticing that her lover was far from happy, Cordelia slowly eased her foot out from her heel and grazed it across Wilhemina’s freshly shaven leg, beneath the table. “Besides…” She lowered her voice enough to match her wife’s previous whisper, “…I can’t wait to have you all to myself.”

Wilhemina froze, feeling the hairs on the back of her neck stand to attention and goosebumps spread across her skin like wildfire. Her cheeks grew a shade darker, however, she remained composed; taking a moment to gaze at the blonde over her cat-eye glasses. Lust aside, the older woman hummed in response, knowing that her Delia knew best.

“Fine, but I’ll hate every moment nonetheless.” Cordelia was about to chuckle in response; however, another voice beat her to it. Her eyes skimmed over to meet the sensuous ones of Ally Mayfair-Richards. She couldn’t help but to take in the woman’s appearance. A deep scarlet pants suit and heels for a flight? How suave, she thought.

“I apologize, I didn’t mean to listen.” Ally stated sincerely, laying her hand flat against her heart as she continued to stand in line, waiting for her own cup of brew.

Wilhemina eyed her. “How does one not mean to listen?” Beneath Mina’s composed expression lay a nervous heart. What if this woman heard the brief mention of Cordelia’s magic? Delia laid a comforting hand on her wife’s in order to keep the beast inside her tame.

Ally allowed her voice to drop down to its natural octave, sarcastically snapping back at Wilhemina. “I would assume it’s something synonymous with overhearing-” Delia shot the shorthaired woman a warning glare. No matter how unkind Mina could come off, she wouldn’t let just anyone speak to her in any kind of way. “-but then again, what do I know?” Ally stated, trying to save the first impression of herself with the women she had just come to meet. “I really didn’t mean to intrude, it’s just that I’m going on this stupid couples’ retreat, and my wife hasn’t shown up yet. So, when you mentioned you’ll hate every moment, I could agree.”

Cordelia lightly tapped her heel against Mina’s. Something was odd about the woman’s statement and they both knew it.

Mina tilted her head, “You’re married and… your wife didn’t ride to the airport with you? Pardon my judgment, but isn’t that a bit odd?”

Cordelia slightly arched an eyebrow, glancing at Mina through her peripheral. Pardon her judgment? Since when did she care about how people took to her critical commentary?

The woman shrugged, “Not for us. Actually, it’s pretty common. We have a son and run a restaurant, so we aren’t typically granted the luxury of being up under one another all the time.”

Wilhemina arched an eyebrow, taking the woman’s story in. Did she take the fiery redhead as a fool? A blind man could see past her lies. Her fingertips tapped lightly against the cup of coffee, which now remained half empty and cold. Her eyes scanned over the facial features of the content brunette until her doe eyes met Wilhemina’s. They stared at one another for a moment; Ally slightly shifting from side to side beginning to feel uncomfortable under the redhead’s heavy peer. It was as if she could indeed see through her.

Cordelia cleared her throat a bit, not liking the fact that her lover was suddenly so interested in a stranger they had just met. She slipped her foot into her heel and slid her chair back, standing up enough to turn to Ally. “Well, I’m sure I heard the overhead say it was almost time to board, so we’ll talk with you once we land.” Wilhemina broke eye contact at the sound of Delia’s voice and followed suit, standing with the aid of her cane.

Ally smirked, perking up a bit at the realization that she would be boarding right along with the older women, “First class as well?”

“Yes, however, I doubt we’ll be seeing much of you,” Cordelia replied, forcing a smile—and trying to hide her jealous thoughts—whilst Mina threw her coffee away. Ally momentarily backed down, noticing the tension she had caused.

Once the woman in purple returned, Cordelia laid a hand on her lower back and began to walk away, before her lover mumbled out an indifferent, “It was delightful meeting you.”

Ally bit her lip in response, not finding it necessary to smile nor acknowledge the apathetic compliment. She had plenty of time to do so later. Once the couple was out of her sight, she moved up in the line; continuing to patiently wait for her brew.

As the two lovers made their way to the appropriate gate, a very frazzled Diane Sherman fidgeted out of anxiety near the entrance of the airport.

“I-I just had it!” she stated, rummaging through her cardigan pockets.

“Mom, calm down.” Her daughter soothed over the phone. “I’m sure it’s in your carry-on. This is only your eighth time checking for it.” She giggled with sarcasm, knowing this was her mother’s first time being alone since having her. You’d think with Diane being as thorough as she was that she’d be able to keep up with her boarding pass.

Diane huffed, “Chloe, are you sure you don’t want me to stay home?”

“Mom-”

“It’s nothing for me to head back to you.”

“Mom-”

“There’s plenty we can do. I mean, when was the last time we saw a movie?”

“Mom! I’ll be fine, I promise. I’m capable of taking care of myself, remember?”

Diane inhaled deeply and slowly exhaled, trying her hardest to shake the anxiety dwelling within her. “Okay, okay… just remember to ca-”

“Call you every day when I wake up and every night before bed. Yes, I know, mom. Now, go enjoy yourself!”

Diane nodded to herself, “Alright. You’re right. I’ll um, call you when I land. Or maybe I’ll text you before the plane takes off-”

“Bye, mom!”

“Bye… I love you!” Diane hesitantly hung up and slipped her phone into her pants pocket; examining the large airport. It was fairly empty, yet still overwhelming to the homebody. She glanced into her carry-on and slid out her boarding pass, looking around like a lost puppy trying to find the correct gate.

As you stood by the window, figuring it was time to get ready to board, you couldn’t help but notice the poor woman. You slowly made your way over to her, offering a warm smile, “Hi… I could be completely wrong, but you seem a tad bit lost.”

Diane chuckled nervously, rubbing her neck. “Is it that obvious?”

You laughed softly and nodded, “Only a little. Is there any way that I could help you?”

“Oh, no. You don’t have to-”

“I insist.” You started empathetically, “If you’re anything like how I was when I first came to this airport… well, let’s just say I would have loved it if someone offered me help. I lost my boarding pass and almost missed my flight.”

She laughed softly, letting a bit of her nervousness subside. “I suppose a bit of help wouldn’t hurt…” She stared at you for a moment before clearing her throat and looking down at her ticket, “I um… I’m looking for gate A12?” She held the boarding pass up so you could see it more clearly.

You smiled, “Wait, are you going on the couples’ retreat as well?”

She blushed, “Oh, God no. It’s just me, myself, and I.”

You nodded understandably, “Well, either way, we’ll at least be on the same plane.” She smiled wide, bashfully biting her lip as you adjusted your carry-on, “Come. The gate isn’t too far from here.”  

She nodded and followed along as you both made your way to the gate.

As everyone in first-class began to board, you couldn’t help but feel saddened at the fact that Ivy stood you up. However, you refused to let a good, already-paid-for vacation go to waste. You stood towards the back of the line, slowly moving as first-class boarded. You noticed Diane in your peripheral standing alone. After a moment of thought, it dawned on you that Ivy wouldn’t make it, hence an extra first-class boarding pass. You quickly reached out and grabbed her hand, pulling her into the line with you.

“Oh, I think you’re mistaken. I’m not first-class.” She stated, almost ashamedly.

You linked arms with her and smiled, “You are today.”

Once you and Diane had made it onto the plane, you smiled and offered her the window seat. She refused for a few moments until you sat near the aisle, giving her no choice but to take the window seat. She thanked you bashfully and thus a conversation accrued.

One row behind you sat Ally, who waited patiently for the plane to finish boarding. As time ticked on, she spotted the captivating redhead from earlier and her lovely blonde spouse, merely two rows ahead of her on the opposite side. She chuckled to herself and laid back, pulling out a phone. She slid in her headphones and relaxed, pressing play. Your voice echoed through the earbuds,

“Ivy, how dare you not show up for this idiotic trip that you insisted we go on! You’ve got ten minutes to get your ass here.”

#sarah paulson x reader #wilhemina venable #wilhemina venable x reader #diane sherman x reader #diane sherman #billie dean howard #cordelia goode x reader #ally mayfair richards #ally mayfair x reader #billie dean x reader #sarah paulson imagine #mildred ratched x reader #mildred ratched #gwendolyn briggs #mildred x gwendolyn #mildred ratched x gwendolyn briggs

[safic4-m]

Welcome

~Master list~

This will be a series of different stories, where the female reader will be immersed in situations, either in a relationship or living with fictional characters.

I want this to be different so the characters will be mostly (all) passive and T/n will be the active one (this is not open for discussion).

I have a great love for Wilhemina, so you will find many stories of her and T/n.

~List of characters~

-Lana Winters

-Cordelia Goode

-Sally McKenna

-Audrey Tindall

-Ally Mayfair-Richards

-Wilhemina Venable

-TB Karen

-Alma Peregrine

-Alice Macray

-Diane Sherman

For now these are all the ones I feel comfortable writing with.

~Rules~

1. List a character you would like me to write about. you.

2. Add genre: fluff, angst, etc. Smut is also fine as long as there are no overly inappropriate topics.

3. Give me a plot, a specific scene that you request. you want to be in your

4. Note that I can’t force creative flow, I may finish some requests faster than others because of this.

5. Anonymous are allowed by the way, not sure why they wouldn’t be.

Lastly polyamorous relationships are allowed and it may take a while for smut requests.

Note:

This is meant to be soft fluffy fluff, but you may also find some smut, some role play, for the most part it will be soft.

English is not my original language

Without further ado, enjoy the content that is created with love for all of you!

#lana winters #cordelia goode #sally mckenna #audrey tindall #ally mayfair richards #wilhemina venable #tb karen #Miss Peregrine #alice macray #diane sherman #ahs #american horror story #miss peregrine's home for peculiar children #mphfpc #mrs america

[yr-obedt-cicero]

What are your thoughts concerning the Reynolds’s Affair theory presented by Tilar Mazzeo in her biography on Eliza?

I read it a long while back and I’ve always wondered your thoughts on it. Do you think it is plausible? I think it is, but you are much more familiar with the people involved and the situation.

This took a bit longer than expected to answer because I had to write down everything I wanted to cover, because there is a lot to unpackage with this biography and topic. Personally, I don't find it extremely likely, nor convincing. There is the slight possibility, but it doesn't line up as well as the affair. For anyone that wants a run down of what will be discussed, I answered here what I will essentially be debating whether is true or not now. My goal here isn't to dissuade anyone from picking up the book or reading it, because it has it's useful and enjoyable moments. But there are some major issues concerning it, although this isn't a review of the book itself.

Basically, Mazzeo takes the claims the Reynolds affair never happened. She claims the whole story was an elaborate cover up for Hamilton's actual financial embezzlement of government funds. While doubting the story that the infamous pamphlet tells isn't bad, or disagreeable by any means - it definitely deserves to be questioned with all the mystery surrounding it - as it's more than likely Hamilton constructed the whole thing with self-serving bias. But this claim isn't exactly the brand new discovery that Mazzeo flaunts it as.

Maria was the first to claim that the affair never truly happened, and while her account is definitely considerable. And the authenticity of Maria's letters is an interesting issue to discuss. There has been debate over whether Hamilton made them available to be compared with a handwriting sample of Maria's. William Bingham said he never saw the original letters, but then later claimed that he did. And honestly, Hamilton may have also been dubious to trust Maria again to give an accurate sample, considering afterwards he believed she was part of the blackmail scheme all along. Although the letters could be fake, I am also inclined to think Hamilton would have destroyed the originals, and was desperately trying to replicate the missing evidence so his story was believed. Granted this is all just speculation, and regardless doesn't support or disassinuate he may have been involved in any financial embezzlement.

Anyway, Mazzeo didn't actually find the evidence she suggests, instead she found gossip and made a theory from it. Mazzeo essentially recycled the original charges against Hamilton, that provoked him to write the pamphlet in the first place, without offering additional evidence. There is no actual support of any financial wrong-doing, just speculation. Seemingly Mazzeo forgot that actually it wasn't just Hamilton's word that cleared him of suspicion.

Bias claims as a source of evidence

The root of Mazzeo's argument solely consists of Maria's denial to the affair, and Monroe's skepticism. But it's faulty to see Maria as any less self-serving as Hamilton in this situation. Maria had every reason to lie if it saved her skin. Her relationship with Hamilton as his mistress was cut off, her husband had been arrested—And to do the contrary, by admitting the affair, would accomplish nothing but a torn reputation and name.

Secondly, Monroe was just as guilty of bias. When Muhlenburg, Venable, and Monroe confronted Hamilton about the issue in 1792, their sole intent was to give Hamilton a chance to explain or resign before they sent their information to Washington - who was president at the time - before they ruined his name and reputation. The fact that they seemingly never forwarded the information, they must have believed his explanation of the affair. Monroe's further doubts about the situation wasn't likely a case of true disbelief, but rather that he was hanging onto the hope of it being true because he hated Hamilton and his party. Take into account, he was a close companion of Jefferson's. His word should hardly be seen as any hardcore evidence in a situation where the two are of opposite parties, and can utilize this to their advantage and ruin the other's name.

Mazzeo cites no actual evidence of financial wrongdoing on Hamilton's part throughout it. But she instead looks to everyone else's hearsay and contradicting word to prove a some point here, which isn't solid evidence. And it contributes greatly to the terrible taste the book puts in your mouth as you read it due to all it's inaccuracies. Her sources are conflicting and bias enemies like Adams, or Latrobe who was also accomplices with Jefferson like Monroe.

Lack of evidence, despite repeated searches

A major plot hole in this theory, is that Congress conducted two deep investigations for two years after the Reynolds affair while Hamilton was still the Treasury Secretary, but there was zero success of finding any hints to possible embezzlement or impropriety. There was the instance in which Hamilton had used a foreign loan to pay a domestic debt, although Congress didn't authorize it or the use. But Hamilton claimed Washington had sanctioned him to, Washington said he could not recall the conversation. Which was likely because he was alienating himself from the situation it was becoming.

Later on 1801, Jefferson appointed Albert Galatin as Treasury Secretary. Galatin had searched through the Treasury books, but again found nothing that could imply criminal embezzlement. Which is definitely notable, because Galatin would have been aiming to find anything that could be used against Hamilton (Since we like using political enemies as sources). And again, just like Mazzeo, there's never been a case of a historian actually finding contemporaneous and evidential indication of embezzlement. It says a lot about the veracity of the original charges.

Hamilton's lack of financial greed

Not to mention, it doesn't fit any of Hamilton's actual characteristics. Hamilton never majorly valued accumulating wealth for himself, which was actually a large concern to his friend's who often worried what would come of his debts and refusal to take on higher paying jobs. It was often a large clash between him and his college friend, Robert Troup, who even joked to Rufus King in 1802 of how they would have to pay for his funeral expenses (Foreshadowing).

Hamilton even shot himself in the foot a few times to avoid being controversial when related to finances. He went so far as to renounce his veteran's benefits after being assigned Treasury, out of the worry he would be accused of prioritizing paying the soldiers for his own benefit. To which, Eliza struggled for years to reverse after his death to keep her family afloat. So, these repeatedly shown morals of Hamilton's wouldn't make sense if he was truly stealing government funds for his own selfish use.

Why would he even have James Reynolds as an accomplice?

Don't get me wrong, Hamilton did have associations with the sort of men that would plot something like this, like John Church and William Duer. And I wouldn't put it past him to actually do something similar with them. But what doesn't make sense - and what Mazzeo fails to ever mention - is why Hamilton wasn't working with them for this sort of thing, but instead Reynolds? Who was a penny-ante thief, and was quickly caught for trying to cash in benefits for veterans who had died without families. He hardly seems like the most credible person Hamilton would hypothetically trust in this serious of an offense. Hamilton even addresses this himself in a draft of the Reynolds Pamphlet;

Taking it even for granted that a Secretary of the Treasury was unprincipled enough to be willing to speculate for gain in ways inconsistent with his office and character is it probable that he should have been disposed to give my confidence to a man of such a description and make use of him as an instrument? He must have been a very stupid one indeed if he could not have contrived objects large enough to have interested men of much greater importance and with whom he could have been perfectly safe. The supposition, besides ascribing to him a wickedness with which his enemies have liberally charged him, ascribes to him also  a degree of folly with which he has not before been charged.

Source — Draft of the “Reynolds Pamphlet”, [25 August 1797]

And any actual money made in these alleged transactions evidently never made it's way to Hamilton's own purse. The available evidence clearly shows Hamilton was losing every cent he gave to Reynolds. So, what would have been the goal with throwing national dollars at some citizen man? Blackmail as an explanation for such transactions is far more sensical.

Eliza's impossibly-fathomed forgiveness isn't source material

By far, the worst argument Mazzeo made was the claim that the Reynolds affair obviously couldn't have happened because Eliza just forgave him too easily. To quote, Mazzeo said;

What makes it hard to reconcile the life of Eliza Hamilton with her response to Alexander's infidelity is that we have to posit a personality change occurring suddenly in the summer of 1797. We have to believe that the affair crushed her spirit and turned her from a feisty child of the frontier to a victim of her own self-deception. We have to posit that Eliza simply could not handle the reality of Alexander's affair and would do anything to keep him. When he dies, in a duel fueled at least in part by the scandal, she carries on for decades insisting that Alex- ander has been maligned, idolizing him and insisting on his virtue.

In short, when it comes to Alexander, Eliza begins to look a bit foolish.

Source — Eliza Hamilton: The Extraordinary Life and Times of the Wife of Alexander Hamilton, by Tilar J. Mazzeo · 2019

I don't know who actually thinks that because Eliza forgave Hamilton for the affair, which would have made Eliza so weak and ridiculous, so inconsistent with the women Mazzeo felt she'd knew so well, that it just couldn't possibly have happened. Now, if Mazzeo had taken the time to research the historical context surrounding women and the upperclass society (Which she fails to do, ever, in the biography), she might have known affairs were not uncommon by any means. And the Hamiltons' associated with many men who did the same, like Governor Morris, and lived in places where it was incredibly popular, like Philadelphia. And the society that Eliza was raised in would have taught her that, if anything, the affair was her fault and she wasn't exceeding at her wifely duties enough to please her husband. If we are actually going to try and understand the wider picture that is Eliza Hamilton with the fragments we have from history, we can start with the societal pressure and lessons women were imprinted with from the patriarchy. Of course, we will likely know her true sentiments. But blaming herself and overcoming the turmoil to either forgive herself or her husband, is a lot more convincing than; Eliza took a hit for a man who stole, and he was too much of a coward to admit to it, so instead decided to publicly humiliate his wife to spare himself. Because she loved him that much.

Even so, would subjecting herself to the public shame of an extramarital affair - because as I said, she would have naturally been the most shamed and blamed in the view of a misogynistic society - for a cowardly, selfish, thief, who obviously is willing to use his wife as a scapegoat, truly fit resilient and independent Eliza? If anything, I think that better suits Mazzeo's definition of being “foolish” and “ridiculous”. I don't know where the mindset of forgiveness for infidelity - especially during historical time periods - was that unbelievable.

-

Anyway, that's my take. In general, the book pisses me off with it's many inaccuracies and disservice to Eliza. But I hope this helps regardless.

#amrev #american history #alexander hamilton #historical alexander hamilton #elizabeth schuyler #elizabeth hamilton #tilar j. mazzeo #eliza hamilton: the extraordinary life and times of the wife of alexander hamilton #reynolds pamphlet #reynolds affair #james reynolds #maria reynolds #history #queries #sincerely anonymous #cicero's history lessons

[floral-and-fine]

Red Heart Ending 2

Michael Langdon x fem reader

You, Michael and Ms. Mead left the room, leaving Ms. Venable forgotten on the floor. Reaching the landing at the bottom of the first flight of stairs, your eyes fell upon the group of witches gathered below. Michael released your hand as he took a few steps forward. 

“How can any of you defeat me,” he announced, successfully drawing the attention of the witches. “When I’ve already won?” 

He stood proudly at the top of the staircase, arms resting at his sides as he casually stared his enemies down. Ms. Mead was on his left and you remained behind him. 

“You haven’t won,” Cordelia stated, her own gaze unwavering as she looked at Michael. 

“Perhaps you haven’t noticed the state of the world,” he gestured around him. 

“It’s almost as bad as your dinner jacket,” Myrtle criticized in a snarky tone. “But at least the world can be saved.”

“By you?” He smirked. 

“By all of us,” Cordelia said, 

“Hey,” Dinah interjected. “Get the wax out of your ears. I’m here to watch.”

“But I’m not,” Coco stepped forward. Michael’s eyes shifted towards her with an unamused expression, she cowered a bit from just the look. “Just don’t let me die again, okay? It really sucked the first time.”

With clear contempt, he redirected his attention to the group.  “When I’m done,” Michael started. “You’ll all wish you were still dead,” he warned. 

“I always thought the world would end with fire and ice,” Myrtle mused. “Not witches and warlocks.”

Michael ignored the comment and continued. “The seventh seal has been broken,” he proclaimed. “Wormwood has fallen from the sky and turned the rivers to blood and fire. The bottomless pit has been opened and my swarms of locusts and scorpions have ravaged humanity.” He was bursting with satisfaction. “The world has been remade in my father’s image.”

“Darling,” Myrtled laughed. “It seems daddy didn’t tell you the most important rule of bringing on the apocalypse. If you want to finish the job, the thing you have to do first is get rid of all the witches.”

“I could annihilate all of you in a second and the world would go on without missing a beat,” he threatened. “You and all of your work will be forgotten in the rubble of the past. But I want to give you a future.” 

Michael slowly lifted his arms as an invitation, “Fall to your knees and accept me as your lord and savior, and I will bring you to the table as my obedient subjects.” 

Cordelia chuckled, amused by his offer. “The only way we would sit at your table is if your decapitated head were the centerpiece.” 

“Cordelia,” Dinah began, in a soft voice. “You raised me from the dead so that you would have the power of voodoo on your side,” she walked forward and faced the Supreme. “But if you know anything about who I am, you know the only choice I’d pick would be the winner.” She made her point clear by bowing her head towards Michael. 

“You’re half right, Dinah,” Cordelia said confidently. 

“She needed the help of a powerful voodoo queen,” the voice of Marie Laveau chuckled as she emerged from behind the group of witches. “But that ain’t you, sis.”

“To release me from hell,” Marie continued, stepping in front of the group towards Dinah. “Cordelia promised Papa Legba the darkest and most corrupt voodoo queen’s soul for mine.” Marie’s eyes gave Dinah a once over, “You’ll serve him well in my place.”

“You’re a fool, Marie Laveau,” Dinah furrowed her brow. “You would have done no different if you were queen.”

Suddenly, Marie transmuted, appearing right behind Dinah, cutting her down with a swing of her machete. Dinah screamed as her neck gushed blood while falling to the floor. 

Michael nodded to Ms. Mead, signaling for her to attack. She removed her hand revealing the barrel of an automatic rifle, but before she could fire, Cordelia muttered a spell. 

Ms. Mead began to convulse, head and body shaking as she malfunctioned. 

You watched stunned, unsure if there was anything you could do to help. 

“Ms. Mead?” Michael asked full of concern. 

At that moment, she exploded, her limbs and torso flying apart. The shock wave sent Michael over the bannister, crashing onto the concrete floor below, while you were blown back against the wall behind you. 

Michael’s brow furrowed, tears falling as he cupped Ms. Mead’s decapitated head. Despite his anguish, he rose to his feet, motivated to finish this for good. The witches were nothing but a thorn at his side, pests that needed to be exterminated. 

Scrambling off the floor Madison grabbed the rifle and then fired upon Michael, unloading the entire magazine as she shot him. He collapsed against the wall and fell to the floor, appearing dead. 

But the coven knew this was only temporary.Without a moment to waste, Myrtle yanked a lock of his hair from his head and gave it to Mallory who finally was able to grasp the entirety of the situation. 

The witches fled upstairs, seeking a safe place to execute their plan, before Michael had a chance to recover. Madison stayed behind in hopes of holding Michael off, even if it was just for a mere second. 

However, as they turned the corner, Mallory was stabbed by Coco’s fiancé, taking his vengeance for being left behind when the bombs fell. The witches had to act quickly. While Myrtle and Cordelia tended to Mallory, Coco and Marie prepared for Michael. 

…

Like taking in a deep calming breath, the blood that pooled around Michael returned to his body, drawing it back in as he was revived. He stood up, cracking his neck side to side, as Madison spun around to face him.

But as soon as Michael’s fist closed, Madison’s head exploded, her body dropping to the ground a blunt thud. 

With no regard for any of the corpses around him, he marched up the steps towards you. 

The blast left you disoriented as you slowly tried to sit up. You winced as you touched the back of your head, fresh blood mixed in with your hair. Your head had hit the wall behind you pretty hard. The injury was throbbing and the rest of your body felt bruised and beaten. 

You flinched back when Michael reached out, touching your bloody wound as he examined the damage. 

“Sorry,” you whispered, feeling guilty for cringing away. 

He was quiet, eyes deadly and cold as anger and rage radiated off his body. They destroyed his Ms. Mead, taking her away from him again. They had hurt you in the process, Michael had even feared that they had killed you as well. 

His fingers were wet with your blood as he placed his whole hand over the wound. Closing his eyes, a warmth came over you as he healed it, just like that time at the park so long ago, bringing you a sense of comfort. 

“Is Ms. Mead…?” Your voice trailed off, unable to finish the question. 

“Gone,” Michael answered bitterly. 

“Michael,” you murmured, facing him. His jaw was locked tightly as he stared at you. Your dear Michael was so strong now, so determined to see this through, and you wanted this to end just as badly as he did. 

“Go finish this and don’t hold back,” you encouraged. 

Michael lifted a brow, entertained by this change in you. “I’ll slaughter them,” he promised. “Stay here.” He pressed his lips to the top of your head before rising to his feet. 

Looking below you made out four corpses, and soon more would join them. 

…

Striding up the second flight of stairs, Micheal encountered the voodoo queen first. 

“You will not pass,” Marie commanded, sprinkling the floor with the contents of her pouch while reciting a spell. 

Michael snarled as his hand was unable to advance past the invisible barrier. 

“You’re dealing with HBIC now,” she taunted. 

“You really think your stupid voodoo spells can stop me?” With incredible force, Michael plunged his hand into her gut. Her mouth gaped like a fish gasping for air as he moved his hand deeper. “Is that all you’ve got?”

“Not exactly,” she heaved through the pain. 

Without hesitation. Coco stabbed Michael from behind, sinking the knife through his back. His brow furrowed as he looked down, his fingers grazing the tip of the knife in his chest. Remaining oddly composed, Michael twisted around to look at Coco. 

“Normally, that’d work,” he commented, before wrenching Marie’s heart free from her chest with a gruesome squelch. “But I’m nothing like normal.”

Biting into the organ, he casually flicked his wrist and Coco’s head snapped like a twig. Reaching behind, he worked the knife out of his back and then proceeded his hunt for the rest. 

He stopped at the beginning of the next hall, spotting Cordelia standing at the other side. He inhaled with anticipation. 

“How did you think this would end?” He started. “Prophecy is inevitable. I was always going to win, Miss Supreme,” he mocked. 

“Not on your own,” she sneered. “You’ve been led by the hand, coddled, the entire way. By your father, the warlocks. I look at you and I don’t see a man. I see a sad, scared little boy so pathetic he couldn’t even kill me with a thousand nuclear bombs.”

“But I never expected to,” Michael retorted. “Like a cockroach, I knew you’d survive the nuclear fallout. I wanted you to.” He smiled, “And now I’m gonna have the satisfaction of watching you die, knowing you failed.”

“You still don’t get it, do you?” Cordelia shook her head. “Even now. You think there’s only winning and losing, success and failure. But failure is when you’ve lost any semblance of hope. You will get to watch me die, but you won’t find it satisfying.”

Opening her hand, she summoned the knife in Michael’s to her. “Satan has one son,” she explained. “But my sisters are legion-“

In a blink of an eye, Michael appeared before her, stopping Cordelia’s hand from plunging the knife into her chest. He sneered glaring at her face to face, feeling the sting of the knife’s blade as it cut his palm. 

“Don’t look so surprised,” he tilted his head, his blood dripping to the floor between them. “I want you dead, but I’m no fool, I know what you’re trying to do.”

Cordelia’s eyes darted to the room Mallory was in. The tub of water was turning red as Mallory continued to bleed out, barely clinging to life. They were so close, but the only way now to accomplish what they had started was by Cordelia sacrificing herself for Mallory’s sake, it was the only way to give her the power to survive and complete the spell. 

Michael hissed as Cordelia struggled, desperately trying to free her hand and the knife from Michael’s ironclad grip. He didn’t budge, eyes staring at her coldly. 

“Don’t worry,” he murmured. “You won’t have to live much longer, she’s almost dead.”

“Fuck you,” Cordelia spat. 

Michael turned his head, unphased by her attempts to provoke him. 

Myrtle suddenly emerged from the room, ready to defend Cordelia, but before she could utter a word Myrtle was torn apart. Cordelia’s eyes widened, her mouth falling open, as Myrtle’s body fell to the floor, a pool of her blood soon spreading to their feet. 

Michael’s eyes returned to Mallory, floating in the bloody tub, he counted down in his head, any minute now the girl would be dead from blood loss and with her would die their hopes of saving the world. He could feel it, the moment Mallory stopped breathing. 

Looking back at Cordelia, he smirked and finally released her hand. She gasped as she thrusted the blade with full force into her chest. 

“It’s your turn to burn,” Michael stated as flames engulfed the Supreme. A smile formed on his face as he watched the fire dance. The last witch was finally dead. 

With his hands clasped behind his back and his head held high, Michael turned around and began walking back through the corridor, stepping over Myrtle’s body with cold indifference. 

You rose to your feet as Michael returned, standing at the top of the stairs, smiling down at you. 

“It’s done,” he said, his smirk spreading. 

You climbed up the steps to join him, immediately wrapping your arm around his neck. His hands ran down your back resting on your hips. 

“It’s just you and me now,” Michael whispered, lips tickling your ear. “The Adam and Eve of the new world.” Pulling back, his hands stayed on your hips, “Are you ready to leave this place?” 

…

The carriage rattled and shook as the horses pulled it along the road towards the Sanctuary, your new home, leaving behind the underground outpost. 

You felt excitement thinking about living your life again with Michael, having a home with him again. You focused on the destination, tuning out the horrific sights taking place outside the carriage windows. 

Michael sat beside you, his legs crossed, while his hand and yours were joined together, resting upon the seat between you. 

The landscape outside was barren, the air was polluted, the buildings laid in rubble and ruin, occasionally in the distance you’d see a mutated figure. You cowered away from the window as the carriage passed a small group. 

“Don’t worry,” Michael said, squeezing your hand. “You’re safe with me.”

When the carriage slowed to a stop, you eagerly sat up. Michael got out first, coming around and opening your door for you. He offered you his hand, which you accepted as you emerged from the carriage. Outside was a tall concrete wall with a heavy steel gate. 

“Welcome home,” Michael announced, pushing the gate open. 

You gasped as you immediately recognized the building. It was the house, still standing, not a single brick out of place. 

Michael motioned for you to follow as he walked along the brick path toward the house. 

Inside, the light in the house emminated a warm glow, all the furniture was still intact and in place, it was as if you never left. 

Michael removed the hazmat mask and suit, hanging them on the coat rack, his long golden hair gracefully falling around his face. 

Noting your cautiousness, he reached out and helped you out of yours. “That’s better,” he murmured, gazing at your face and running his index finger along your jaw to your chin. 

“How is this possible?” You asked in a quiet voice, looking around you in awe. 

Michael shrugged, “Both were already a part of hell.”

Tilting his head, Michael kissed you, with both of his hands cupping your face. He was comforted by the fact that this would be his life now, his purpose was complete and the witches were dead. Parting from you, he rested his forehead against yours. 

“Y/n?” He asked, voice slightly breathless. “Be mine forever, only mine.”

You nodded, his hands still on your cheeks as you placed your hand over his. “All yours.”

[stayevildarling]

Because you just reblogged those angst prompts and I love angst too, I’d love to read a combination of “please just hold me”, “you look awful” and maybe “is there anything I can do to help?” Between Wilhemina x Reader with the reader comforting wilhemina please?

Wilhemina Venable x Reader - Holding on for dear life

A/N: thank you for requesting this💜 I struggled a little because as a reader I could never tell her she looks awful plus I struggled at first to see Mina ask for this. But in this scenario I can totally see it. I hope you enjoy and thank you for your support @stepintomyworld

tw: mention of scoliosis, cursing, angst, fluff

taglist: @lunaticwhittaker, @billiebeanhoward , @lanawinters-ily , @kenzbro , @minaslittleone , @httpfiftyshadesofgay , @whitelotus00 , @ninaahs , @vintagepaulson , @isle-of-earle , @paulsonsratched , @stepintomyworld , @grilledcheeseandguavajelly , @lucyintheskywithxanax , @fanfics4world , @mymiraclewitch , @hazard-to-myself , @awritersometime

The sound of your alarm pierces through the dimly lit bedroom, you stir from your slumber, reaching out instinctively for the warmth of your lover beside you, only to find the bed empty. Faintly you remember how she had left the house at 5am this morning, heading to work like she usually does before pressing a soft kiss to your forehead and smiling at your sleeping state.

As you walk into the living room, you immediately notice the half-empty bottle of medication, sitting on the coffee table, its presence sending a wave of concern through your veins. Your heart skips a little as you realise that Mina had forgotten to take her medication to work.

Panic bubbles up inside you as you think about the fact that your redhead girlfriend had been quite irritated lately, snapping at things quicker than she usually would and overall seeming more exhausted. As you inspect the bottles closer, you notice that the medication bottle had the wrong doses printed on it. Confused, you make your way over to the bathroom and take a look at Wilhemina's medication cabinet.

Unusual emptiness finds you as it was usually stocked up with different medications for her back, one to help with sleep, some to help with pain. You notice how her usual medication all have the wrong and weaker doses printed on it. Confused, you try putting the pieces together before deciding to take matters into your own hands. Walking over to her office, you make your way around her desk, carefully opening her calendar. It feels wrong to be snooping around in her things but you know the redhead could be stubborn about this and not accepting any help.

As you skip through the last few weeks, you notice her usual scheduled doctors appointment wasn't listed for another week. She must have missed the last one due to an important work meeting, scheduled in the calendar that week. Thinking about it for a second, you aren't sure whether to just ask her about it and offer your help or just sort it out for her, not wanting to invade her privacy but also wanting to take some of the pressure and what you assume to be great pain at this point off.

A little while later, you had decided to help out in fact and are on your way to the pharmacy, picking up her usual prescription. After calling the Dr's you found out that in fact she didn't make her last appointment and therefore only had some of her older and weaker medication left. The receptionist was very hesitant but knowing your name by now, she helped out, considering she knew you from accompanying Mina to her appointments in the past.

It takes about half an hour until you make your way to Kinero Robotics, walking through the familiar hallways until you finally make it to her office. As you stand by the glass door, you can see a glimpse of your girlfriend, sitting at her desk. Typing away on her lilac laptop, you take in her features. Her cane resting against the desk beside her, her hair in a sharp ponytail, her outfit plastered with lilac as per usual.

As you take in her features a little closer, you notice the bags under her eyes, her tight posture and the way her jaw was in a straight line. You could tell she was in pain and uncomfortable and hoping with your gesture you could lift some of the weights off her tired shoulders. Knocking gently, her head instantly lifts, getting ready to throw shooting arrows with her gaze but her features quickly soften as she sees you standing there.

,,Little one?'' she asks, confusion etched on her tired features. Her right hand reaches for her cane but you quickly shake your head, walking over to her instead, before pressing a gentle kiss on her cheek. ,,What are you doing here?'' she asks confused, noticing the little bag in your hand.

,,Mina-'' you start, not sure what to say as you know she may be upset at you for what you are about to say and give to her. Her eyes press shut as another wave of pain ripples through her. Sighing heavily she turns her gaze to you again, the pain reflecting in her brown orbs. ,,You look awful my love'' you whisper, tilting your head with concern.

,,Thank you for that statement, it's nice to see you too'' she snaps a little as she didn't like the belittlement or pitty.

,,I have these for you'' you simply mutter out, handing her the bag before she opens it only to find her medication, the right dosage inside them. Her features are overtaken by confusion and you aren't sure if you can sense a hint of anger in them also. To deescalate the situation, you reach for her lilac Stanley cup that you purchased for her a while ago, noticing how it was almost empty, quickly walking away to fill it up for her.

As you return she sighs and averts your gaze, taking the medication without saying a word. Your girlfriend was a lot of things but not stupid, she knew what you did in order to fit the pieces together and as much as she disapproved of you probably having been through her schedule and great lengths to get these, right now she appreciates it, knowing this should help soothe the pain, at least a little soon.

,,Is there anything I can do to help Mina?'' you ask carefully as her brown eyes meet yours. You aren't sure how she felt at the moment, knowing that her walls are up high either way but you didn't want to leave without having at least done your best to provide her with the same love and care she shows you on a daily basis.

,,No- I think you have done enough'' she replies. The room fills with silence and from her tone and blank face you couldn't tell whether she was upset or grateful. Figuring you did indeed disturb her at work, you give her a weak smile before saying goodbye and exiting her office.

After you leave Wilhemina feels a wave of overwhelming emotions wash over her. She hated this, she had always hated her back, the way it disabled her to do the most normal things in life. The way the pain, not only physically, held her in its grasps, sometimes freezing her. She hated being perceived as weak or not as able as other people, mostly the reason why she appeared so harsh and tough on the outside.

With you it was different though, she never had anyone truly care about her, truly wanting to help ease the pain and not perceiving her as weak or different, as you had often reminded her. Somehow you made all of her insecurities disappear whenever she was with you and she loved and adored you for it. You wouldn't usually fuss either, which she truly appreciated and somehow she is facing a battle of anger over your fuss but deep gratitude that you went through the lengths of getting the mediation, which she couldn't make the time for due to her career and on top of it, coming all the way to her office to bring it to her.

She rubs her temples, slowly feeling the effect of the pain medication soothing her painful and tired muscles. ,,Fuck'' she curses internally for having driven you away like this. As she takes a look at the time and her desk, seeing the amount of work she still had for the day, she quickly resumed with it, hoping if she gets through it all sooner rather than later, she could make some more time for you tonight, hopefully being able to leave the office sooner.

As hours passed, the weight and pain of the last few days presses down on Wilhemina's shoulders, each moment ticking by with agonising slowness. Despite the medication easing the worst of her pain, she couldn't shake the lingering exhaustion that seemed to have clinged to her like a shadow at this point. As she works tirelessly at her desk, her mind keeps wandering back to the imagine of you standing in her office, your concern etched into every line of your face. The guilt gnawed at her insides as she replayed the exchange in her mind, wondering if she had pushed you away too harshly.

The truth is, she was grateful for your help more than she could ever express. But admitting that meant acknowledging her own vulnerability, something she had spent a lifetimes trying to conceal. And as much as she hated to admit it, your presence had stirred something inside her - a longing for connection that she had long buried beneath layers of steel and ice. As the day draws to a close and the office begins to even out, the redhead finds herself torn between a battle of desire to reach out to you, apologise for her harsh words and to thank you for your unwavering support.

With a heavy sigh, she closes her laptop, having finished up her things for the day, gathering her things as she made her mind up. She couldn't let the day end without making things right with you and showing you just how much you mean to her. As she makes her way home, her thoughts are consumed by visions of you, your gentle smile, the warmth of your embrace, the way your presence soothed her tired and troubled soul.

Meanwhile you spent the day tending to various tasks around the house, partly trying to distract yourself and also your thoughts consumed by her. The sight of her forgotten medication had sparked a sense of urgency in you, driving you to take action to ensure her wellbeing. You made sure that Wilhemina could come home to a clean and comfortable home. Making sure the bedding was changed, washing all done and the apartment looking neat and tidy. You prepared a bath for her, her favourite lavender bath salts sitting on the edge of the bathtub. After, you cooked some dinner, even though uncertainty consumed you when she was coming home and what she would be like tonight.

Wilhemina pushes the door to your apartment open a while later, her heart pounding with doubt and fear. She searches the home for you in the familiar surroundings. Noticing how everything was much cleaner than when she left this morning. She finds a cooked meal waiting for her in the kitchen, a bath waiting for her in the bathroom and the bed changed into some comfortable covers. However she couldn't find you.

When she finally founds you, her heart aches a little at the sight. Sitting in the armchair in a corner of the living room, bathed in the soft glow of the lamplight, her heart swells with a mixture with relief and longing. Relief that you didn't run, didn't leave and stayed.

,,Little one'' she murmurs, her voice filled with emotions as she crosses the room to where you are sat, her cane tapping against the floor. You lift your gaze from your book, giving her a soft and gentle smile. ,,Hi Mina'' you greet her, taking in her features and noticing how her expression and posture seem less tense, meaning the medication must have helped her at least a little.

,,Why is the table only set for one?'' she asks, her brow furrowing in curiosity. You meet her gaze gently explaining ,,I wanted to give you some space to unwind, to have some time for yourself after a long day''.

The redheads heart swells with emotion at your considerate words, a lump forming in her throat as she realises how much you care about her wellbeing. At the same time knowing, usually you would set the table for two and eat with her. She worries, that she had hurt you, drove you away before after the exchange in her office. Despite the reassurance from you and the bad feeling about today, her sense of stubbornness nags at her thoughts. She accepts your explanation with a simple ,,Fine'' before leaving with a tight smile.

As she makes her way to the bathroom, her steps slow and deliberate she seeks solace in the soothing embrace of a warm bath. The tension in her muscles begins to melt away as she sinks into the steaming water, the cares of the day slipping from her mind with each passing moment. After staying in the comfort of the bath for what felt like an eternity, she emerges from the bath. Wrapping herself in a towel and getting changed, turned out to be a challenge again, sending little shooting pains through her back. She knows she could easily ask you for help but again Wilhemina was still far too stubborn for that.

As she makes her way to the kitchen a little while later in anticipation of the meal, she sits down at the table. However she couldn't help but feel a pang of loneliness at the sight of the empty chair across from her. But even as she took each bite of the delicious meal you had prepared, she knows that solitude was necessary, a chance to reflect the events of the day and come to terms with her own feelings. She couldn't keep being stubborn, the fear of pushing you away further far too big a risk.

As she finishes her meal and making her way back to the living room, she finds you in the exact spot, lost in the pages of a book. Wilhemina settles beside you on the couch, finding a comfortable position for her to sit in. A sense of calm washes over her, at the thought you are there beside her. You look up from your book, giving her a gentle smile, before you put the book down altogether.

,,Was dinner okay?'' you ask quietly, trying to make conversation.

,,It was perfect, thank you little one'' she speaks softly and you sense the tension almost gone from her features and voice at this point.

She takes a deep breath before turning to you, her gaze soft but determined. ,,I need to talk to you about today, little one'' she admits, her voice steady despite the turmoil swirling inside her. You nod in return, your eyes meeting hers. ,,Of course Mina'' you reply, your voice gentle and reassuring.

And with your hand clasped in hers, Wilhemina slowly begins to open up, her words tumbling forth in a rush as she pours out her frustrations and regret. She admits she couldn't make time for the doctors appointment and therefor couldn't get a new prescription. She explains the only option being her old and weaker medication. Wilhemina very briefly touches the subject of her fear of appearing weak or vulnerable, her stubborn pride often getting in the way of accepting help or support.

But she quickly changes the subject to her love for you, the anchor that always held her steady. ,,I'm so grateful for you, little one, for all that you do''. Her smile is gentle as she pulls you into her embrace, holding you there for a while.

As the evening carries on, eventually the both of you go to bed and as much as Wilhemina appreciates the soft sheets, and your support to put her in a comfortable position, another wave of pain appears. Wilhemina's scoliosis often brought on bursts of excruciating pain, despite the right medications. The pain wasn't just in her back, it radiated down her legs, sending sharp jolts of agony with each movement. Especially after a long day at work, once she gets to rest it feels like a vice grip squeezing her spine and every attempt to shift position only seems to increase the torment.

As she lays there you can tell her features changing again and your heart breaks at the sight knowing how much pain she was in. ,,Mina?'' you ask gently as her gaze meets yours the pain is very visible in her brown orbs. ,,Can I get you your medication?'' you ask softly. She simply nods, despite her strength and resilience usually, she also had her breaking points. Tonight she had reached it, after not having been on the right medication for weeks, having been agitated all day. The pain wins, forcing her to surrender to its merciless grip.

As you return she thanks you silently and invites you to lay down beside her. The room remains quiet for a while and as you take in her features you notice the usual stoic facade crumbling under the weight of the relentless pain. ,,It feels like shooting pain down my legs'' she murmurs, her voice laced with discomfort. ,,It feels like I can barely move them after today''. Despite her agony there is a hint of frustration in her tone, a silent acknowledgment of her own vulnerability. It was rare to see the usual strong woman in such a state, but even the fiercest of warriors had their moments of weakness.

Your heart breaks at the sight, wishing you could take her pain away. You would do it over and over again, taking all of her pain if it would mean some kind of relief to her. Tears swell in your eyes as you feel helpless and at the same time knowing if she was so open and honest it must be so bad that not even words could describe it. You simply reach for her hand, holding it gently as you listen to her talk.

,,I hate seeing you like this Mina, I'm so sorry'' you say, barely above a whisper.

,,How do you think I feel? I have to actually live with-'' she quickly stops herself as she feels your hand hold onto hers a little tighter. A silent reminder that it was just you two and the rest of the world didn't need to know she was letting her guard and usual high walls down. ,,I'm sorry'' she mumbles, growing frustrated at herself.

,,What can I do Mina?'' you ask softly as you meet her gaze yet again. Her eyes soften, so grateful already for all the things you had done for her today and continue to do.

,,No I don't think so- just'' she starts but quickly stops herself. You sit up beside her, giving her a soft reassuring smile.

,,Can you-'' she starts but stops herself again as she shakes her head slowly. You can tell she's suddenly shy which didn't usually happen.

,,Can you- please just hold me'' she suddenly whispers. The words take a second for your brain to register them as this was not something you expected from Wilhemina and it usually being the other way around. Your features crumble and you have to stop the lump in your throat from bringing any tears to your eyes.

Moving up a little, leaning against the frame of the bed, you open your arms and she nudges slightly as she feels the safety of your arms wrap around her. As Wilhemina rests her head on your chest, listening to your heartbeat and surprised that this wasn't making her back worse, some tears roll down her cheeks.

However you are quick to catch each one reassuring her ,,I've got you Mina, it's okay''. And with every word she believes you. The tears eventually turn into her crying in your arms and despite the scene in front of you breaking you in any way it could, seeing her in so much agony and pain, you also feel some kind of relief. Knowing that every now and then it was healthy for her to show this kind of emotion and let go of her usual stern and hiding nature.

Wilhemina feels a weight lifting from her as she listened to the gentle words escaping your lips and gentle beats of your heart against your chest, where her head still rested. In that moment as you held her in the quiet comfort of your bedroom, surrounded by the warmth of your love, Wilhemina knew that with you by her side she could face any challenge that would come knocking and she knew they wouldn't ever stop. At the same time you knew that you had done something right, knowing Wilhemina wouldn't ever portray her emotions like this easily. And as the redhead holds on for dear life, you both find comfort in the arms of each other, knowing you can face any storms that came her way.

#wilhemina venable #wilhemina venable x reader #mina #ahs #american horror story #ahs apocalypse #sarah paulson #cordelia goode #billie dean howard #sarah paulson x reader #cordelia goode x reader #ahs coven #asks