liillet

[liillet]

like or reblog if you save

[liillet]

Am I the only one who hasn’t been able to watch AHS Apocalypse since the last episode aired because of not wanting to relive all that pain and heartbreak Michael had to endure only for him to get run over by Mallory?

[liillet]

Michael / Cody  +  behind the scenes of AHS: Apocalypse

[liillet]

Cody Fern in Leslie Grossman’s instagram story, Dec 4.

[liillet]

My brother sent me this and I CAN’T STOP LAUGHING

@langdonsdemon thank you for this😂

[liillet]

what would pregnancy sex w Michael be like 🤤

he would be so hesitant, scared to hurt you but you had finally stopped feeling so insecure about your changing body and missed his touch.

“Are you sure I can…” he asked worriedly once you suggested having sex for the first time in a while.

“Yes, people do it all of the time,” you laughed, pushing him back gently to lean on the headboard of your bed and straddling his waist. His hands instantly went to your slightly swollen stomach. You were only a few months in but the fatigue had stopped you from desiring the man underneath you like this. Suddenly it was back and full force.

“I don’t want to hurt you,” he said, looking up at you with hesistant but hopeful eyes. You knew that he missed this as much as you did. His hands pushed your shirt up to your shoulders and you helped him pull it off of you.

“You’ve never said that before,” you teased, leaning in and pressing your lips to his as you smiled, letting out a content sigh at the contact. He quickly unlatched your bra, dropping it onto the bed next to you and his hands eagerly cupped your breasts, making you groan at their sensitivity.

“Just be gentle,” you mumbled against his lips and he nodded his head, massaging your chest in his hands. His thumbs brushed over your nipples, making you squirm and a low moan came from Michael’s throat at the friction on his lap.

You reached down and pushed his sweatpants down his thighs, holding in a whimper when you felt his hardened bulge against your underwear clad core. Pants were uncomfortable and were starting to not fit you anymore, meaning you rarely wore them around the house with Michael.

Michael’s hands began to roam your newly exposed body, caressing every swell and curve as if he was reading you like brail.

“So beautiful,” he softly moaned into the kiss and it made your cheeks warm. It felt good to know that he still found you attractive like this.

“I miss you,” you whined, beginning to impatiently rock your hips down against him. You felt him jut his hips up into your movements and you knew you finally had him.

You both eagerly fumbled to rid yourselves of the thin clothing that separated you, Michael’s fingers finding their way between your legs. He ran his fingers through your wetness, making you whine softly at how sensitive you were now.

“You really do miss me,” he said lowly, grabbing your hips and beginning to guide you down onto his cock. Your hands grabbed his wrists, your eyes fluttering at just the feeling of him teasing your entrance.

After uttering a weak “please” to him, he brought you down fully and the feeling of him buried in you once again was almost enough to set you off. You were already gasping and moaning for him, just the slow bouncing overwhelming all of your senses. Leaning in, you rested your forehead against Michael’s.

“I’ve got you, momma,” he whispered, keeping you at a steady, slow pace.

[liillet]

[liillet]

I’d to share because i love it too much! Credits to the owner.

[liillet]

Day 7: still not over Michael’s death.

[liillet]

Imagine: Michael dealing with your mood swings

A/N: Thanks to popular demand, more pregnant reader! And ooc soon-to-be-daddy Michael I guess. Idk, I just wanted to get this out of my head so it’s in a bit lighter tone I suppose.

Next episodes: Giving birth and then Michael with his son

More from this pseudo-series: Original imagine | Baby names

Tags: @lost-in-the-stories @dudesorriso

(gif’s not mine)

Weiterlesen

[liillet]

Soulmate

Pairing: Michael Langdon x fem!Reader

Words: 1.2k

Summary: Y/N accompanies Michael on his visit to Outpost 3, as his wife, only to find that jealousy strikes her. 

Warnings: Angst, fluff, time jumps (***), swearing

REQUESTED BY - ANON

“ Idk if request are open but can I get one where you and Michael are married and you go with him to the outpost and y/n gets jealous during his interview with Mallory omg could you do this? (: ” 

Being married to the Antichrist wasn’t all bad as it would seem. In fact, Michael, was most possibly the most loving and devoted man you’d ever met. Which overtime, had become the reason why you’d married him.

You’d met Michael in your youth, only to have him disappear from your life in an instance. He’d become your best friend, so it pained you deeply to find that he’d left you, after transferring schools. During that lonesome period, going year by year in school straight through to graduation, you’d realised that no one had ever replaced who Michael was to you…

In that since Michael, you’d never allowed yourself to open up nor to blossom as close and as intimate as you had with Michael.

And yet, a part of you, what feared you most was that Michael had find another, seeked for that sort of intimacy in another, without any doubt nor any hesitation.

And because during that time, since you had mindlessly walked into Michael, him insisting to help you with the boxes, welcoming you to the neighbourhood, has you both instantly befriended one another. Yet you had been too afraid, and too careless with the time that you had, to admit to him how you’d grown to love him.

And that was to be your biggest regret…

That was, until divine intervention ascended into your life. It had been years since you’d last seen or ever spoke to Michael. You were now in college, trying to complete a degree, secure a job to make ends meet. It was only when, on a fine Tuesday morning, on your way to your campus was it where now Michael had run into you.

He looked incredibly unrecognisable, upon him stumbling across you, you hastily apologising had you not at first recognised him: his hair had grown in length, his features had matured although his appearance looked as though he’d went through hell. Though it was his eyes, that remained same, untouched by time.

“Y/N…”

You were in utter disbelief, you couldn’t find the power to speak. You stood there, teary eyed, mouth slightly agape in silence, perplexed that it truly was Michael standing before you.

“Y/N, it’s me. It’s Michael, you remember?”

His hands instantly reached over to grip your arms, shaking you ever so slightly, desperate for you to recognise him.

“M-Michael.”

“Yes!” He exclaimed, relief gushing through him, as he instantly embraced you in a tight, overdue hug.

His reaction to seeing you again had taken you by surprise, although you didn’t hesitate once to return the favour: your arms wrapping around him, unfretted by the thought that this could all simply be a figment of your imagination.

“I’ve missed you, I’ve missed you so so much, Y/N…I-”

“I know, Michael…So have I.”

As silence fell between you two, it was comforting to know that nothing had changed. As you stared into each other longingly, smiling ever so sheepishly to see Michael, you instantly began to reminisce your unfeigned memories with Michael.

“You look beautiful, beautiful as ever.”

His eyes scanning your every inch, from head to toe taking a deep breath in as he did, as though he’d been taken away at how much you’d changed.

“And you, you’ve changed incredibly, Michael, just look at you-”

Just as you had, many times before, your hand instinctively stretched over, caressing his cheek: it was your way of comforting him, whenever he was upset or angered…He always sought for you, knowing it was only ever you, who could ease him and his misery.

“But what on Earth happened to you? You look like you haven’t been fed or showered in days…Let me take you back to my apartment, I’ll get you all sorted.”

Your hand now gesturing for his, as he without a second to spare, reached back for yours: the familiar grip was all too promising to know what was to come…

***

And now, post-Apocalypse, travelling from Outpost to Outpost, with your husband, you were the wife to the Antichrist.

You’d loved Michael like no other, and since your past experiences, your past mistakes, you weren’t willing to say decline his proposal. You didn’t have it in yourself to say no to live out the rest of your life beside your best friend, your soulmate. It was impossible for you to have even thought of the possibility.

And so, Outpost 3 was now where you’d spent your days, awaiting for Michael to seek out candidates or more so those willing to bow before him as their Lord and Saviour, to accompany you both back to your home, the Sanctuary.

A few days had passed, and Michael was still interviewing the residence of Outpost 3. He’d instructed you that it would be best for him to conduct the examinations alone, seeing as how he feared that those desperate to secure a spot, would attack you as means of threatening him: which you knew was impossible, though he wasn’t willing to risk his chances.

So you found yourself lonesome, majority of the time: wandering through the Outpost, guarded off course, by a specific personnel of a woman under the name of Ms Mead. She was a strict individual, stern indeed although you both hardly spoke to one another, so it felt like no one was with you at all.

It was coming towards the end of the evening, and you knew that Michael would be free from the interviews for another night: wanting nothing more than to seek the loving company of your husband.

“I think I’m going to head off now, I’ll see if Michael’s done for the day. You can return to Miss Venable. Goodnight Ms Mead”

‘I can’t allow you to. He’s still in an interview.”

Instantly, almost as though it was instinct, she grabbed your arm ever so tightly, preventing you from returning to Michael. Staring down at her grip, you were completely puzzled: it was the first time she’d ever resisted your order, yet most of all, it confused you most, trying to understand how exactly she’d known that Michael was still occupied. Her entire day was spent beside you, away from Michael.

“Ms Mead, and how exactly do you know that?”

It seemed as though she’d lost consciousness of her surroundings, only to see her slightly shake her head, as she moved her gaze from you unto her firmly gripping hand.

“I-I don’t know., b-but you c-can’t, I won’t-”

Immediately, you withdrew your arm away from her, and bolted for Michael, leaving Ms Mead abruptly: you were afraid and were in desperate need to seek your husband out.

Rushing up the stairs, as you’d pulled your dress above your feet, not wanting to trip over, had you continued to run towards his room. Without the manners to knock, due to the adrenaline, did you slide open the doors.

Your heart sank to your stomach, your eyes widened in horror. You were speechless, and had become senseless of yourself: you couldn’t find it within yourself to move nor to speak.

Both Michael and Mallory, in sync snapped their heads towards the opened door to your figure in the distance. Michael immediately stood, taking a step closer to you, only to have caused you to take one back.

“Y/N, sweetie, it-it’s not what it looks like.”

Tearing your attention from Michael to Mallory, you found that despite her looking somewhat terrified, you were revolted by her sheer sight. And immediately you rushed back to your room, hearing Michael’s heavy footsteps powering from behind, before shutting the door completely in his face.

Hearing the sound of the door locking, he knew that was when you needed space, so he’d dared not to conjure his magic to unlock it: not wanting to distress you anymore. Facing its dark wooden exterior, walking back from it before your legs hit the mattress of the bed, causing you to seat yourself, you felt the hot tears stream past your cheeks.

“Y/N, baby, it wasn’t at all what you thought. I swear to you, on my life and on Satan, that it wasn’t that. Please, baby, just open the door for me, let me explain”

“Get the fuck away from me, Michael!”

“Y/N, baby please. My love, I-”

“Just leave!” The rage imminent in your tone, feeling the frustration taking its toll on you, Michael felt silent, and his heavy pounding against its frame came to a halt.

You didn’t hear any footsteps, just sheer silence. You knew he remained still behind the door, as his shadow stood still beneath the creak of the door in the dim light.

You tried with every fibre in your body, trying best to suppress your cries, when you could no longer bear it.

Sobbing ever so loudly, before your hands reached over, covering your mouth, as your sobs became all muffled.

Looking back down to the creak, you’d noticed that Michael was becoming restless, ever so desperate to get inside, as you studied how his shadow paced from one end to the other by the door. Pacing himself up and down, trying to distract himself from your cries, before he could no longer take in the guilt.

“Y/N, please.”

Hopelessly yearning for you, you couldn’t stand to see his face, fearing that it would instantly trigger you to remember the sight of Michael knelt down before Mallory: one hand clasped around her knee as the other caressed her cheek. It pained you so much to see that Michael was ever even that close, that intimate with another, knowing well enough that he was a reserved man.

He must’ve been prideful enough to disregard your marriage like that.

“Y/N, baby, please.”

You knew that no matter how many times you’d shut, or resist his pleas, he simply just wouldn’t leave.

Your eyes now swollen and red, as you wiped them dry, trying to cover up the hurt, did you allow for Michael to enter your joint room.

By the wave of his hand, the door flung open with ease, and immediately his figure bolted over towards you. He knelt down before you, as his hands tightly gripped your thighs, his rings embedding an imprint through the fabric into your skin. Your eyes immediately fixated unto the floor, knowing that by locking stares, you simply would just burst into tears.

“Y/N, baby, I’m sorry about what you saw. I-I promise you on my life, that it wasn’t at all what you are thinking. I was trying to interrogate her, to intimidate her, and my approach escalated. Baby, I swear I’m sorry.”

“How could you even be okay in doing that, Michael, knowing you’re a married man?”

You’d grown agitated almost instantly, as he bounded over towards you: snapping your head away from his direction. Looking at the familiar fave of your husband, was what you’d least wanted from now. He was lucky to even have the chance to talk, without you exiling him from the room.

“Baby-”

His hand reached over instantly, his finger wiping away a tear before it ran completely past your cheek. Still his hand remained their, caressing your swollen cheeks, as your sobs began to lessen, as you quickly glanced up at him, witnessing his eyes swell, a small tear trickling down. 

“It was a terrible approach to the interview. I was trying to obtain as much information, there was something about her that concerned me… I never meant for you to get hurt, Y/N, I hate seeing you like this, you know that.”

“M-Michael, I just need some time-”

“No, Y/N, please. I can’t bear to leave you in this state, knowing I caused you to cry. I just can’t. I lost you once, and I couldn’t bear it, and I won’t lose you again. You know that, Y/N.”

“Clearly, gaining more followers is much of an excuse to disrespect me as your wife.”

Your eyes finally giving into his, as his hand moved your chin slightly up, encouraging you to peak, only caused the anger to return.

“Y/N, you know that’s not true, don’t you ever say that… I married you because I loved you like no other. Remember what I said, do you remember my vows”

His hands held yours ever so tenderly, shaking them slightly, as he remained persistent to resolve the issue.

“I vow to make my life forever yours’ and that if any person from here, chooses to hurt, pain or cause harm to my wife, I shall kill? Y/N I’d rather choose to kill myself before I could ever watch you cry knowing it was because of me… I love you so much.”

Tearing your attention from the hand holding to his face, the rage, the infuriation and the pain had left.

You saw your husband.

“You promise, that things from now on with these interviews won’t ever get as out of hand?”

“Of course, beautiful.”

“And you promise, Michael, that you stay true to your word, that your life is forever mine, as mine is yours?”

“I wouldn’t even dare to think otherwise… I promise, Y/N.”

Raising himself up, his hands pulling you to stand with him, feeling his lips smother against yours, you felt how desperate he was to make up, how desperate he was to retrieve his wife and your trust.

And the kiss had sealed the deal, or more so his promises and his vows.

His hands snaked around your waist, pulling you in subtly closer to his, as his lips parted slightly, smirking against your lips.

You felt the sincerity in Michael, having grown accustomed to his habits and his tendencies: you were the one person he could never deceive, manipulate nor lie to.

“You were the one who gave purpose to my life, Y/N…And I can be certain of that, forever.”

Permanent Taglist - @kaliforniacoastalteens @sereneriverstride @greasemonkeydarling @blxxdy-hell @m-i-a-m-c-d-e-e @neganlangdon @hexqueensupreme @makeilaxkay @hiyyyaaaaahhhh @skullchik89 @quione3 @idkfanf1caddict@frozenhuntress67 @reading–mermaid @queencouslands@yourlocalelf @gracethegeek9902@iamnotthecatladynextdoor@inales00 @narcolepticstorm@fuckthatfeeling @queenie435 @lost-in-the-stories @michaels-slut@browneyedbeauty03@aphoenixrisenfromtheashes@dudesorriso@demonhunter1616@oliviamariem @claireloyal  @mosagram @14-bees@cameronmonaghantrashaf@moonlight53 @goshdarnitthatsalongname @chairokuno@hxdesworld@thebatshitcrazyfangirl @langdonsdemon @lucidtransparency @xinyourdreamsx

[liillet]

Character: Michael Langdon Kissing Prompt: 58 & 59 Please?

58. 

When you and Michael started kissing, it turned into a make out sessions. You couldn’t keep your hands off of each other whenever you were in his presence during dinner in the Outpost. You both had the habit of moving around while kissing, stumbling over things, pushing each other against the wall or the bed each other because you didn’t want to lose your rhythm of making out with one another. 

Which ever was easier for both of you or which one you were feeling tonight. It soon turned into habit that you would do it every night. You’d honestly let Michael push you against the bed when he kissed your lips or kissed your neck. You had the habit of stumbling over things when you kissed. 

Like you once stumbled over a chair that was located in the room without looking where you were both headed and fell directly into the chair, you ended up sitting in his lap and continued kissing the handsome Anti-Christ. “(Y/N), we should watch where we’re going in the bedroom.” 

Michael said this time. “Okay.” You said and he smirked at you. “Jump.” He said and you jumped into his arms. Michael caught you, looking him in the eyes and he had this smug look on his face. He carried you bridal style to his room quietly to not alert the others. “But continue with what you were doing.” He whispered to you with that voice you loved so much.

59. 

When you kissed Michael for the first time, you couldn’t stop. You craved for his touch, more importantly, his kiss. Michael’s kiss was slow at first but then turned needy when he got a taste of your kiss. He wanted more of your kiss. He craved it like a tick needed to feed on blood. 

You wrapped your arms around his neck and deepened the kiss with you. At this point, you both couldn’t breathe. You suffocated realizing that there wasn’t enough space between your two bodies. You noticed that you were kissing so desperately that his whole body curved into yours. 

You both resorted to cuddling in the chair in the middle of the room. He played with your hair and you played with his long, blonde locks. You wanted to continue your kiss from earlier so you waited to catch your breathe until later. “How was it, (Y/N)?” He asked you, looking down at you as you curled into his chest. 

“Breathtaking.” You answered simply and you could hear the rumble in his chest from his voice. He chuckled at your comment and kissed your forehead. You hummed as you listened to his fast heartbeat and slowly subsiding in your eardrums. 

[liillet]

My Love Take Your Time

Michael Langdon x Reader 

Summary: Michael reassures you everything will be fine before he passes away.   

CHARACTER DEATH WITH A HAPPY ENDING… I PROMISE!

A/N: It was only a matter of time before I did a Hamilton inspired Michael fic. 

She stood in the middle of the floor stunned, surrounded by her angered sisters, the smell of gunfire and blood plagued their noses. This was never the plan, this was not how it was supposed to happen…  not how you wanted to tell the coven you married the Anti-Christ years ago. Cordelia was speaking to the man, who stood there confidently licking the blood off his lips like it was candy, mocking her.

Could it have been simple enough to just get rid of his powers? Of course, it wasn’t, Cordelia wanted him gone, erased from the world he created in the image of his father. You held it together, stone-faced yet clenching your fists that were covered by the long sleeves of your pantsuit. When was the right time to be by his side? She hated being in the middle of this, the witches didn’t understand him and Michael was well, Michael. He was misunderstood, misguided Y/N saw him for who he was but also wanted to kill him herself when he didn’t take the help he needed.

Ms. Meade or what was left of her was on the ground, which made Michael pissed “I’ll slaughter you,” he hisses, raising his tense hand. Madison runs and grabs the gun from off the ground Y/N’s eyes rise in fear as she knew exactly what her intentions were with it. Pointing it at Michael with deadly aim, Y/N’s heart rate rose fearing her heart would beat right out of her chest.

The gun goes off several times, the sound muffles the hearing of the witches. The scene of horror plays out like it was slow motion, Michael’s body stumbles backward and lands against the blood splatted wall. His blue eyes stare at his wife and only her, the love of his life, the girl that knew him the best.  She stands there motionless as Cordelia calmly walks to Madison, the after-effects of the gun makes it so she can’t hear.

Once the other witches beside Madison hurry away to Mallory Y/N’s tears stream down her face “You stupid bitch,” she seethes, using her powers to throw her high against the wall, watching her fall with a loud thud. Y/N runs to Michael’s side, falling to her knees next to him, sobbing as her shaking hands touch him trying desperately trying to get him to talk to her.

“Michael,” she sobs hopelessly, tugging on his collar making her hands become covered in his crimson blood “Please.” Nothing, his dead weight doesn’t budge as she cries for him. She leans on his shoulder and grips the fabric of his jacket, the same fabric he would drape over her to protect her from the chilly nights  “I’m not strong enough to bring you back to me,” she weeps. She may have been very talented but she was never able to resurrect the dead no matter how many times she tried.

She looks to the other side of the man, a sharp piece of the robot lay there, shining from the lights in the room. She quickly reaches over and grips it, rising on her knees as she looks at Michael, she shakily brings the sharp piece to her throat. She was helpless, desperate, the only way she wanted to live was with Michael near her. Her vision gets blurry from the tears with a heartbreaking sob coming from her lips.

A hand suddenly but weakly places itself over hers, pulling it down to her lap. Michael looks at her with a soft expression “A plan is in motion.”

“What?” she whispers, shaking her head in confusion.

Michael simply smiles at her, blood trickling from his lips “My Love, take your time,” he tells her weakly. She drops the object and holds his hands in hers, pressing their bodies together. “I will see you on the other side,” he speaks to her one last time. What other side? Before she was able to ask he was gone.

She hears his last shallow breath, she starts to shake as she lets out a painful scream of despair “No!” The room was still as she begged for him to come back, her pleas began to subside and her vision blurs. The last thing she sees is a flash of white before everything does dark.

“Ms. Y/N,” a voice soothes, lightly echoing. Y/N’s eyes flutter open, in confusion she looks at her surroundings noticing she’s back at the academy. What the hell? Was the only thought she had, she sits up from her bed and her eyes glance down at the same outfit she had from the outpost minus the blood. “Ms. Y/N?” the same voice questions looking at her with an expression that matched her own; utterly confused.

Mallory, her student, the next supreme…the girl was apart of the plan to kill Michael.  The poor girl looks at her timidly, this wasn’t the same girl from the outpost “Yes?” she answers with a question. Or was it because she knew exactly what she did and was afraid of you and the repercussions?

“Your bag is downstairs,” Mallory tells her.

“Bag?”

“You’re going to California to meet the new student? Remember…they’re nervous and wanted to meet one of the teachers?”

Y/N doesn’t remember, what the hell is going on? Does she know? Y/N rises from the bed and slides on the heels that were next to her bed “Where’s Michael?” Y/N asks, trying not to sound desperate.

“I-I don’t know?” So she did know!

Y/N pushes past her swiftly, making her way down the wood stairs to be greeted by a cool cond collected Cordelia with her marble printed suitcase by her side. “Cordelia,” Y/N greets.

“I hope you have a safe trip,” the supreme smiles, clasping her hands together by her waist.

Y/N shake her head and rubs her forehead with one of her hands “Cordelia what happened?” she asks.

Cordelia sighs softly “Mallory… fixed things,” she says simply, opening the door.

“He was my husband.”

“We won’t discuss this Y/N, please just bring back our new student,” Cordelia states growing annoyed with the witch. With a grumble, Y/N takes the suitcase and rolls it to the awaiting limo. Y/N takes a final look at the academy seeing the supreme and her successor standing there with warming smiles “Bitches,” she whispers bitterly.

A few days later, mostly postponed due to the fact she needed to get her shit together, trying to figure out how she was here, in a world were the apocalypse never happened and her sisters were safe. She pulls into a large mansion “Family’s made of money?” Y/N asks astonished as she looks out her window.

“Loaded,” the older man chuckles “They own some tech empire, the neighborhood threw a tantrum because the son is going to drop out of Harvard, almost graduated.”

“Shame,” she says in wonder. The car comes to a stop, the nice driver hurries and opens the door for the witch, she smiles and walks up the posh steps to the large white door. A nice old woman with firey red hair opens the door, clutching her feather duster in her hand.

“Hello Dear how can I help you?” she asks.

“I’m from Miss Robichaux’s Academy? I-I never got a name of who I’d be meeting.” The old woman laughs and opens the door wider, ushering her to come in. Y/N smiles and follows her to the library, admiring all the nice things the family owned.

She opened the French doors and when she looked in she saw a tall man with short blonde hair, his back turned to her. He’s looking down at some dusty old book, foot tapping against the probably expensive carpet “Sir, the representative from the school is here,” she maid announces. The man turns around a cheerful smile graces his face.

Her blood runs cold when her Y/E/C meets his blue ones “Michael?” she breathes like the wind has been knocked out of her. His expression drops, staring at the witch in shock. The maid’s eyes shifts between them awkwardly deciding to leave the room when Michael drops the book on the floor.

They slowly walk to each other, unsure if the other was real. His fingers reach up and grace her cheek when they get close enough “My Y/N?” he questions. The same fingers that touched her when she was sad, the ones that wrapped around her throat when they fucked, the ones when he begged her not to go after finding out he was the spawn of Satan himself, more importantly they were the ones she held when they married, one of which she put a ring on.

He pulls from his white dress shirt a cold chain with a gold wedding band attached to it. She starts to cry tears of joy, her fingers touching his cheek “My Michael,” she says firmly. He throws his arms around her and holds her tightly. She places her arms around his waist and touches the fabric, making sure he was real.

“How long has it been?”

“Only a few days for me.”

“I’ve waited all these years for you to return to me.”

“H- how is this possible?” she sobs.

He pulls back and cups her face, his thumbs lightly stroke her jawline “I told you there was a plan, when Mallory ran me over m-my cycle ended. I’m not the Anti-Christ, just a warlock.”

“How?”

I don’t know,” he laughs nervously but he smiles when he gets to tell her the good news “I have really nice parents.”

Y/N smiles widely, knowing that’s all he’s ever wanted “I would love to meet them sometime.”

They embrace once again, this was the other side, why Cordelia and Mallory wouldn’t answer her questions. This was a universe where they got their happy ending. Home, love, and a family who loved the poor boy who once caused the apocalypse.

[liillet]

[liillet]

Throwback to happier times.

[liillet]

Reblog as a petition to cast Cody Fern as antichrist 2.0 with dark hair