#baldwin pennypacker

[beastsovrevelation]

Most satisfying scene in TV history

[ficklefics]

I am freaking out over how much stuff I’ve watched that BD Wong is in that I haven’t connected:

So he’s scientist in Jurassic Park/Jurassic World

And he’s in Bird Box, which I knew

But also Shang in Mulan

And he’s a warlock in American Horror Story

AND he’s Hugo Strange in Gotham (!!!!!)

[king-langdon]

Bubbles trying to control herself as she was reading the warlocks mind:

[such-fun]

Fic: You Should See Me In A Crown (Michael Langdon x Reader) Part Two.

You Should See Me In A Crown

Fandom: American Horror Story

Pairing: Michael Langdon x Reader

Summary: You can see the future, but you didn’t see this coming.

Notes: In this story, Queenie never got trapped in the Cortez.

Tags: @sweetcredence

2: 

You stared at Cordelia, willing her to wake up.

 The warlocks had gathered around her prone body after the Supreme fainted rather dramatically. Not that she didn’t have good reason to; it wasn’t every day a dead student came strolling back into your lives.

 And Michael—that was his name, Michael Langdon. He looked so…pleased.

 John Henry helped carry Cordelia back inside. For a moment in the elevator everyone stood silent.

 “How?”

 “I wanted to get your attention,” Michael stated boldly when Myrtle finally managed to find the words.

 He succeeded.

 The men had left you all to your reunion, unable to hide their enthusiasm at Michael’s display of power. Only John Henry showed some reservation. The others were too consumed by the very thought that the Alpha had arisen. That true power was nearly in their grasp.

 You let out a sharp breath of relief when you saw Cordelia’s eyes begin to flutter. Myrtle continued to stroke her hair as Zoe hovered nervously and Madison stared impatiently.

 Cordelia came awake with a gasp and upon seeing Madison she murmured, “It wasn’t a dream.”

 Before any of you could react, she stood, pulling Madison into a tight hug.

 “Maybe you forgot,” Madison croaked, “I’m not much of a hugger.”

 “You’re alive,” Cordelia whispered, voice watery from unshed tears.

 She pulled back, stroking the young girl’s face reverently.

 “The boy,” Cordelia began, causing you to tense and Myrtle to grimace.

 “He is with those presumptuous charlatans,” Myrtle sniffed.

 “I need to see him,” she declared, much to the redhead’s dismay.

 “Cordelia—”

 “I had a vision,” she stopped all of your protests.

 Her eyes fell on you and your breath came quick and shaky.

 “For months our sister has dreamt of our destruction,” she revealed as Zoe turned to you in concern. “And now I have seen it myself. It is no dream.” Cordelia looked to Myrtle, “I must see the boy.”

 “So be it,” Myrtle said in resignation. “To the lion’s den,” she murmured as she took Madison’s arm, then Zoe’s, and led them out of the study.

 “Cordelia—,” you stopped the blonde with a hand on her elbow. She gazed down at you sympathetically.

 “I’m sorry,” she offered graciously, “I should have known. The Sight would not be so fickle as to bend to imagination. He is real—the white-faced demon.”

 You swallowed nervously.

 “You saw him too?” You gnawed on your bottom lip fearfully.

 “I saw him gleefully destroy us all,” she admitted, eyes glazed as she mentally revisited the scene in her mind.

 “I will not see you girls hurt,” Cordelia was resolved as she gripped your arms reassuringly.

 “My inaction has kept us on this path,” the guilt clear in her voice. “But I am not my mother. I will not allow my own selfishness get in the way of your safety.

 “I…I am losing strength,” she confessed, and it felt like a physical blow to your stomach. “The Sight…I am not enough to stop what’s coming. I know that now. But if there’s a chance, if Ariel is right, if Michael is the new Supreme—”

 “No,” you interrupted her sharply. “Michael, he can’t—he’s not the one to lead us. He’s not you. I, when I saw him just now,” your babbling got Cordelia’s attention and her hands rubbed soothingly up and down your arms to calm you.

 “I felt,” you struggled to put your feelings into words. “Something inside me is drawn to him. My power—everything, it reacts to him. Like there is something inside me, demanding to be heard. It’s not right, it’s not—natural,” you pled.

 Cordelia smiled sadly, leaning forward and resting her forehead against yours. “That kind of response,” she considered solemnly, “it is wholly natural but unbelievably rare. Oh my girls,” she crooned sweetly, “you all have so much to learn.”

 You were all confusion as she took a small step back.

 “There are times when two souls are bound so tightly together that they recognize each other before our selves do. Michael is…extraordinarily gifted. And you,” she confided, “your power is growing every day. Your visions are more powerful than my own. It is possible that you are—connected.”

 Cordelia frowned, “I haven’t experienced anything like you describe. I don’t know if I’d even wish to. People think of it as Soulmates. Such a trite word. But feelings are just that—feelings. You need never act upon them.

 “You will see,” she grinned in determination, “we will not simply succumb to fate. Our destiny is ours to create. You’ve seen it, so have I, what fate has in store for our coven. I will see that it never comes to pass.

 “Whatever your connection to Michael, you are free to make your own decisions. As am I.” Cordelia’s smile faded as she forced herself to stand tall, her gaze shifting to the closed door and the men waiting beyond it.

 The Supreme strode past you, not looking for a moment as if her power was fading, and you found yourself following in her shadow. You only hoped to portray a mere hint of the confidence that she exuded.

  You rejoined the members of your coven who looked rather dour in the face of the smug faces of the warlocks.

 Michael stood beside Ariel, appearing deceptively innocent and far too happy with himself.

 His eyes flicked to you but you kept yours locked on Cordelia. Whatever this supposed connection was, Cordelia has assured you it was entirely your decision whether or not to acknowledge it. And in this moment, as your Supreme stood weakened and the end drew near, the last thing you cared to think about was some cosmic link to a mysterious boy.

 Eventually Michael gave up, turning his attention to her as well.

 She gifted him with a genuine smile and he practically preened.

 “I want to thank you for bringing her back.” Ariel patted Michael on the back, all the while wearing a shit-eating grin. Michael ducked his head in appreciation.

 “I’ve been presented with something,” she continued, “A vision.”

 Her hand reached out blindly, finding Zoe’s and holding it tight.

 “I believe I saw the future. A terrifying future.” Michael remained stoic at such a revelation, but John Henry fidgeted anxiously. “Cataclysm. Fire. Death. I saw a man, but not a man. A white face. Demonic. He was laughing. Our academy, sisters, I saw it reduced to cinders.”

 Myrtle looked ill at the thought.

 “A warning.” Cordelia closed her eyes for a moment, steeling herself. “But something in my blood is telling me that the only hope we have of surviving depends on what I do next.”

 Michael perked up, and you watched closely as his muscles bunched slightly in anticipation.

 “In two weeks time, at the rise of the Blood Moon, you will take the test of the Seven Wonders.”

 The shouting was instantaneous, from both sides.

 Ariel, Baldwin, and Behold were unable to hide their elation. Michael appeared studiously humble. Myrtle, on the other hand, was furious.

 “Cordelia, this isn’t done!” she cried, but the Supreme merely shook her head.

 “I’ve made up my mind.”

 And that was that. There was no swaying her. It was shortly after that you left Hawthorne’s, and the rather intense gaze of Michael Langdon.

 Myrtle tried her best to reason with Cordelia on the car ride to the airport, on the plane, even as you all walked into the house in Louisiana. But there was no changing course.

 Cordelia was determined to alter the course of the future. You hoped she was doing the right thing. Still, you dreaded the thought of sleep that night and what things you might see.

 But Cordelia was the Supreme, you tried to comfort yourself, and it didn’t do well to dwell on dreams.

   As the girls settled into bed, night had only just begun in California.

 It wasn’t difficult for Michael to sneak out of Hawthorne’s. His teachers were too busy congratulating themselves on their supposed victory over Cordelia Goode to even notice he was gone.

 John Henry and his determination to find proof of Michael’s nefarious intentions was only a minor bump in the road. And one that had hopefully been handled.

 Looking off into the tree line, he beamed when he saw her waiting in the shadows. He took off running, letting out a delighted giggle when she was finally close enough to pull into a big hug.

 “Oh, my dear boy,” Miriam Mead cooed as she smothered him in a motherly embrace.

 “Oh! Oh, look at you. You're skin and bones,” she tsked, standing back to take in the sight of him. “You're wasting away. Don't these people feed you?”

 “I'm fine,” Michael assured her, basking in her presence before his mood shifted. “Just tell me you took care of the problem.”

 “The problem,” she smirked, “is now a stack of overcooked country barbecue. They can bury him in a shoebox.”

 “Good,” he was relieved. John Henry was a potential roadblock that had needed to be dealt with. She was the only person he truly had faith in to accomplish the task. “These people are the only ones who could pose a threat to me. Once I become Supreme, I can destroy them from within, eliminate their whole fucking coven. Then the road will be clear for me to do what I was born to do.”

 “So stop worrying,” Mead chided. “Look how easy it was for you to win their trust, to get into their school. They may be wizards, but they're not exactly wizzes. Everything is going beautifully.”

 “I still have to pass the Seven Wonders,” he reminded her, and she rolled her eyes. He envied the faith she had in him. There were days when doubt plagued him, but Ms. Mead was relentlessly optimistic. In her eyes, he could do no wrong.

 “You will own the Seven Wonders, and then all of their covens, and then the world.” Michael smiled from ear to ear at her unwavering certainty.

 His mind strayed for a moment and then he graced her with a thoroughly pleased half smile.

 “I saw her today,” he mused. “With the other witches. She wanted to come to me, I could feel it, but she fought the instinct.”

 Miriam clapped her hands in delight. “Give it time,” she reminded him. “She’s spent too much time with that Supreme of hers. She doesn’t know her place. At your side,” she declared proudly, smoothing down the collar of his shirt. It was only a matter of time until he found her. The one who would help him usher in a new age and a new world made in his father’s image. The girl didn’t know how special she was, the honor that had been bestowed on her. But it was only a matter of time. Michael would become Supreme and all would fall into place.

 “What would I do without you?” he sighed contentedly, wishing he shared her complete conviction.

 Mead pinched his cheek teasingly, the happiest she had ever been. “Now that’s something you’ll never have to worry about.”

[drwnng-ophelia]

Hunter and Prey

Chapter 8

Previously on Hunter and Prey: One, Two, Three

Pairing: Michael Langdon/OFC

Genre/Warnings: Rated M for smut, as in dirty-devil-worshipping-sex!

Summary: “I’ve learned now that you were trying to escape it, trying to escape your darkness and demons. But why bother? Why not bask in it, embrace your hunger for evilness. Stop turning the mirrors around, and look at yourself. At what you can become.

I have posted this fanfic on Archive Of Our Own, too, so feel free to check it out over there

I slumped down on the couch and looked at Michael with pulled up eyebrows, “I’m sorry. I can’t exactly remember our heart to heart where you told me all of your plans for the future.” Michael shot me an icy look and I started to doubt that he would want to undress me tonight.

“You already know them,” he said brusquely. “Oh, please. I may have given into you too quickly, but I’m not an idiot. I know that you want something more than just becoming Supreme. You keep your secrets, and I keep mine.” “Secrets,” he spat the words at me mockingly and started to pace back and forth before the fireplace. “Why does this upset you so much? How does this change anything? I’ve mentioned Clémence before and I accidentally told you that I’m an heiress. You could have made the connection yourself, you know. It’s not that hard,” I argued. He stopped dead in his tracks and looked at me viciously. “Unless,” I straightened and regarded him intently, “Unless, no one has ever told you anything about all of the things that are actually hiding out there, in the dark. What exactly did they teach you here? And who taught you before that?”

“That is none of your concern,” he snapped. I fought the urge to roll my eyes at this giant baby from hell. Granted, I had already guessed that his background was even more complicated than my own but why weren’t the warlocks teaching their students about mythical and supernatural creatures? After all, we had coexisted for centuries, and mostly peacefully.

I rose from the couch, closed the distance between us, and came to stand before him. But when I reached for his hand, he pulled away. Hurt jolted through me at his clear rejection.

“Michael, you knew about the bloodstone. You knew that I would become one of them. You knew that I was important,” I pleaded and clenched my fists to keep myself from reaching out again. Ever so slowly, his facial features softened as if my words started to register with him.

“So what if I’m the future Queen of the Undead? I didn’t hold it against you when I found out that you’re the Antichrist. And didn’t you want me to embrace my darkness? Don’t you think that the embodiment of Hecate, turned into a soulless, undead, seductive creature that lives off of the living is the epitome of darkness? Next to you?”

As my nails dug into my palms, I took a deep breath and waited for him to understand, to react.

“Don’t use that word in here,” he eventually noted and lifted his chin. My eyebrows nudged together, “I didn’t even say it. I hate to say that I will become a vampire, it sounds so cheesy.” His eyes lit up when I finally used the phrase that I loathed so much. “That’s not the one I meant, but thank you for finally saying it.”

“Oh,” I realized, “Don’t worry, I won’t mention your father to anyone. But if you honestly believe they won’t find out, then not even my goodwill can help you. You may believe yourself above these people, but they aren’t mentally challenged. At some point, they will figure it out.”

“I liked you so much better back at the house,” Michael shook his head and sighed through his nose, obviously tired of listening to me. Good. Because I was tired of having to explain basic shit to him. “And I liked you so much better with your head between my legs, but we don’t always get what we want,” I shrugged and saw how a smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. Conceited ass.

“I might just be willing to grant you that wish, depending on how well-behaved you are tonight,” he chuckled and I shook my head in disbelief. His mood swings were making me dizzy. Michael looked to be in his late twenties or early thirties but sometimes he behaved so much younger. He was clever and had, undoubtedly, come to terms with himself completely, knew himself and what he wanted. And yet, something just didn’t add up. I filed the thought away for later and decided to change the topic, more than ready to close the heiress-discussion for now.

“Since we’re here, in this spacious and well-assorted library, I should maybe give you some insight into the society I belong to. Maybe you’ll stop thundering against me then,” I turned on my heel and headed towards one of the many shelves, letting my instinct guide me to the scripture I needed.  

“I swear, sometimes I don’t even know why you kept me around when you seem to resent me so much,” I mused quietly to myself as I flipped through the pages of an old grimoire. Michael’s arms snaked around my waist from out of nowhere and pulled me against him. Immediately, memories from the day before flashed before my eyes and I felt my heartbeat flutter. The way he held me, the way he knew exactly how and when to touch me. I wanted him. So much.

“I could never resent you,” Michael admitted and kissed the top of my head, “What would make you think I’d do that?” Involuntarily, my body leaned against him, welcoming his embrace, eager to get closer to him.

“Because…,” I took a deep breath and considered my words, “You appear to have certain expectations of me and I’m not sure I can live up to them. You expect me to support your cause without knowing what exactly you want to achieve, and I’m unwilling to do that. I will not just let myself be manipulated by you. It’s obvious that you usually succeed in getting others to do your dirty work but I won’t be one of them.” “That could never make me hate you. It makes you annoying, capricious, and intractable. But you challenge me and that…draws me to you,” he concluded, his voice tinged with uncertainty and wonder. He hadn’t foreseen to become fond of me, just as I hadn’t planned on becoming fond of him.

“Like a moth drawn to a flame,” I agreed and let my fingers bush over the back of his hand, savoring his warmth, “Let’s just hope that neither of us will burn their wings.”

“I thought you could control fire?” he breathed the question against my neck before pressing his lips against my skin. Oh, I knew where this was going. “Nice interrogation technique, albeit a little obvious and unfair,” I bit my lip and tipped my head to the side, giving him more space. “Answer me this and I’ll reward you for it,” he offered, “Generously.”

I didn’t even pretend to consider his offer before I extinguished every single flame in the room with nothing but a minuscule thought. Now, with darkness wrapped around us, his hands started to pull up the skirt of my dress with agonizing gradualness. The grimoire fell to the ground with a thud. “Let’s play later,” I gasped and stopped his hands, sensing something in the rooms beyond. “Why later?” he crooned and turned me around so he could kiss me deeply, carefully maneuvering me against the stacks. I didn’t have enough self-control to ask him to stop again.

“Because you’re no longer alone. Your room is ready,” a man’s voice said out of the darkness. Michael broke away from me and looked over his shoulder to see who had the audacity to disturb us. “What he said,” I mumbled and craned my neck to see past Michael as the flames lit up around us once more. A handsome and eccentrically dressed warlock leaned casually against the archway, his steel blue eyes scrutinizing us with distrust and a certain repulsion.

“You must be a very unfortunate creature considering that Michael Langdon touches you like that,” he said contemptuously and pushed himself off of the archway. He had some nerve addressing me like that. Quickly I decided that it wasn’t Behold Chablis who posed the biggest problem, but rather this man.

“It’s nice to see you, too,” Michael noted drily as his fingers interlaced with mine in a silent demonstration of partnership and he tugged at me gently so I would come to stand next to him. This felt very different from how he usually preferred to make me feel. Right now, I wasn’t just a possession — I was a companion, a playmate, an ally. And a very strong one at that. My bond with Michael sizzled in response to this new form of solidarity.

“I never expected Clémence to put the future of her community into the unproven hands of a young witch,” he remarked and took a few steps towards us. Michael drew in a breath to retort something, but I beat him to it, “What makes you think I’m unproven? If you knew anything about my mentor, you’d know that she chose me with great care and consideration.” He shrugged nonchalantly, “I like to believe that I know the Queen of the Undead.”

I could only laugh at the smug smile that flashed across his face, knowing perfectly well what he was implying, “Oh, please. Just because you’ve shared a bed with her doesn’t mean she would share any of her political plans with you. Who are you, anyway?” His smile faltered slightly. Michael was clearly enjoying this small banter as I could feel a reassuring sense of contentment flowing through our bond. It was obvious that he disliked this warlock.

“I’m John Henry Moore,” he introduced himself and searched my face for any sign of recognition. Clémence, in actual fact, had never mentioned him before and I arched an eyebrow to let him know. “Is she aware of the company you keep?” John Henry demanded and folded his arms in front of his body protectively. I shook my head, “She doesn’t need to know everything about me. I’m still very much my own person, thank you for asking.” “Maybe someone should let her know that you have submitted yourself to the warlocks’ boy wonder,” his words triggered a darkness within me that rarely unfolded itself. But now, it washed over me like the suffocating, icy water I had almost drowned in. Michael shifted slightly to look at me, clearly confused by the sudden deviation of my power.

The place I hadn’t wanted him to see this morning was suddenly broken open and displayed itself. He squeezed my hand encouragingly, curious to witness how I would defeat the warlock. “I don’t do well with provocation or threats, Mr. Moore. You should tread carefully,” I warned him and felt the earth tremble around us, answering me willingly. “Was this small trick supposed to be a display of power?” John Henry scorned, a grin plastered to his face. And I had always thought Michael to be cocky.

I remembered how I had told him that these people weren’t my subjects, that I was not interested in stripping them off their powers, to make myself known to them. However, if I was met with so little comity I might reconsider.

Gently, I pulled my hand from Michael’s and took slow, deliberate steps towards the rude warlock, my skirt hissing against the floor with every movement. Unwavering, John Henry looked at me defiantly, “Should I be scared now?” “Yes,” Michael warned, “You should.” But the warlock ignored him.

I paced around John Henry and sized him up just when the darkness engulfed me completely and swallowed up any warmth, kindness, or compassion. My power crept into him unnoticed, quietly latching on to every single magical gift he possessed, while he still looked utterly self-complacent.

“Well, I don’t feel anything, young lady,” he prompted with a triumphant grin when I stopped in front of him, mirroring his mask of superiority. Behind me, Michael drew in a sharp breath, anticipating my next move.

“Tell me, Mr. Moore,” I started and let my gaze wander over him as I started to drag my claws over his gifts lazily to give him a sharp, malicious foretaste of what was to come, “Do you feel this?” The moment I unveiled my influence, he cringed, fear and pain flashing in his eyes as I broke into him and started to pull. Under my heavy impact, his gifts trembled before they started to crumble, slowly disintegrating. I could wipe them away with a single blow but decided against it. Where would the fun in that be?

“Repeat yourself, Mr. Moore,” I challenged and tilted my head with predatory grace, “Tell me how I’m unproven, weak, and insignificant. And while you’re at it, tell my mentor that I’m here and that I have surrendered myself to one of you, that I am no longer imperious and in charge of myself.” John Henry whimpered and slumped over, completely unprotected and helpless. “I said,” I hissed and loosened my control, “repeat yourself.”

A gasp of relief escaped him when I decided to retreat only to leave his gifts in shambles. I looked down on him with icy distaste, “I told you, I don’t do well with threats. Now apologize and I will restore your magic.”

“Restore it? How could possibly undo what you just did?” he panted. Michael came to stand beside me and regarded his teacher with fascination, “Maybe you should just do as she says.”   “I…am sorry,” he spat the words and tried to push himself up but failed piteously. With a satisfied sense of victory, my darkness furled up like a content, purring kitten and put an end to its own menace and terror.

Without my dark side’s authority, it was as if I looked down on the beaten warlock through different eyes. I swallowed hard and realized what I had done: not only had I broken someone, I had done so just because I could. As if it had been nothing but a game that I only wanted to win to prove a point. My eyes slid to Michael who looked utterly pleased. He had waited for this part of me to show itself.

“I accept your apology,” I hurried to say and squatted down, my black skirt pooling around me like the darkness had only a moment ago, “Let me heal you.” When I extended my hands, John Henry flinched, fear radiating from him intensely. “I promise, I won’t hurt you again,” I tried and waited for him to take my hand. For a moment, he regarded me with suspicion but eventually put his hand in mine. The moment he touched me, I let my power wash over him. Within the blink of an eye, I rebuild everything I had destroyed, restored his gifts, and added to them as an offering of remorse.

I straightened and helped the warlock stand up. “How did you do that?” he asked with wonder, “You obliterated my magic and rehabilitated it without moving a finger, without uttering a single word.”

“You shouldn’t have condemned me like you did. Clémence chose me as her successor because I am very, very powerful. And that’s all you need to know,” I concluded and pulled my hand back so I could smooth over my dress.

“But,” he started and closed his eyes to feel for his magic, “I feel more powerful now than before. I feel better than when I walked in here.” “That’s because I regretted what I did to you and I believe in righting my wrongs. Thoroughly,” I explained, “Now, do I have your word that you won’t go running to my Queen?”

He paused for a moment but eventually nodded, “I was done with her anyway.” I shook my head slowly when I realized that he was no longer in her good graces, “I’m pretty sure she was done with you. Nice bluff, though.” What a waste of breath.

A nervous laugh escaped him and he looked slightly uncomfortable, “Let me show you to your room. You should still be familiar with it, Michael.” The men shared a glance that was filled with equal repulsion. “Then there’s no need for you to come with us. I’ll show her myself,” Michael noted dismissively and I felt his hand at the small of my back as he started to guide me out of the library, “We will see you at dinner. And in the meantime, you should count your blessings.”

The moment we had stepped through the archway and started down a hallway, Michael’s arm wrapped around my waist. “You were mesmerizing,” his voice was barely more than a whisper. To him, this had been arousing, a thrill of pleasure.

With swift steps, he ushered me up a winding staircase and down another corridor. I was grateful to have him by my side because this place was labyrinthine. The school’s bareness and its golden light made every hallway, door, and nook look identical.

“This is my old room,” he announced when we stopped in front of a dark mahogany door and he gestured for me to enter. Just like the rest of the school, the room was mostly bare and only illuminated by candles and a crackling fire that was contained by a fireplace in the corner. Next to the door was a minimalistic dark dresser and across from it was another door which probably lead into a bathroom. The neatly made bed took up most of the room as the only other furniture was a simple desk.

I took a few steps into the room and asked myself how anyone could possibly live down here for longer than a few days. “Didn’t you miss the moon down here?” I asked and turned around as Michael had been oddly quiet since we had entered.

“Take off your dress,” he instructed hungrily and leaned against the locked door, “You deserve your reward.” His tone immediately made heat pound between my legs.

“No,” I said and folded my arms in front of my body, “If this is my reward, I want to be in control.” Michael looked surprised when he pushed himself off the door, his steps unhurried when he closed the distance between us, “Then so be it.”

Patiently, he waited for me to put my arms around his neck and to lay my lips on his. But at my touch, his self-control dwindled away and his fingers started to work on the buttons of my dress. This time, he wanted me. This time, he needed to get his hands on me. I realized that when he had offered to reward me in the library, it had only been to conceal his own desire. Today he wasn’t drunk on my blood, but solely on my power.

My hands stopped his, so I could slide off his dinner jacket and start to unbutton his shirt. Eventually, he stood before me in nothing but his pants, clearly eager to undress me next. Teasingly, I let my fingers dance down his beautiful body until they slipped into his pants. He pulled in a breath when my hand found his excited length. At the feeling of him in my hand, I got impatient myself and helped him discard his last clothing. “May I undress you now?” Michael checked breathlessly and I breathed my ‘yes’ onto his lips.

Although I had chosen the lingerie with care this morning, he didn’t comment on it. Instead, he was preoccupied with feeling me, so every touch, every caress was placed tactically and with ease.

“I thought I was in charge?” I reminded him and pushed him onto the bed. Fire burned in his eyes when I looked at him, only to then trail kisses down his chest. A moan slipped over his lips when I put his erection into my mouth. Slowly, I started to suck and moved up and down his shaft with tight lips. It was my plan to tease him with the same agonizing pace that he had used on me the night before but when I increased both intensity and tempo, I felt him tense under my touch. “Stop,” his raspy voice ordered.

“How do you want me?” I asked and planted a kiss under his earlobe, “I’m yours.” He didn’t utter an answer but instead grabbed my hips and moved me on top of him. I obliged and straddled him with a smooth movement. With very little guidance, I eased onto him and savored the feeling of him filling me. Michael pushed himself up so his arms could circle my body, binding me to him as he kissed me deeply.

When I started to move up and down, he joined me expertly and met me with a thrust every time. While our rhythm was slow at first, neither of us had the patience to keep it that way and it didn’t take me long to tip over the edge. The feeling of me coming undone around him resulted in his own release and I held onto him for dear life when he breathed my name against my skin.

Breathlessly, we collapsed onto the bed. “You, my dear, are ravishing,” he announced and pulled me into his arms. “Dinner is still a few hours away,” I reminded him after a while, “So let me be a seductress once more.”

Read the Next Chapter

[shut-thejongup]

B-BALDWIN PENNYPACKER????

[amazingdvils]

a quick note on how i write john henry and his main verse: essentially, john henry is one of the more powerful warlocks currently in existence. however, he chooses to hide it and play the part of a slightly better than average warlock in order to keep certain individuals off of his case. he also absolutely cannot stand to play politics. it gives him a headache. unfortunately, the truth of his power came to light a couple of weeks after a fight with augustus and pennypacker. ariel and baldwin wanted to make a decision that would look antagonistic towards the witches and put the school in danger. john henry was the only one brave enough to defy him and, as such, augustus tried to have john henry killed. thankfully, john henry was warned by one of the witches ( either cordelia or mallory ) ahead of time and was able to lay a trap. ariel augustus and baldwin pennypacker was taken out of power for the good of the school and john henry was installed as headmaster in his place with behold as his second in command. with john henry in power, the relationship between warlocks and witches have been better than it has in many years. it's not perfect, but john henry is working on it.

[ramimalekbrasil]

Ele interpretou duas vezes Howard Weinstein, duas vezes Shang e nove vezes Dr. Henry Wu (algumas vezes no cinema e outras em games🦖). Foi Glen Chao e tbem fez a voz de uma barata. Fez Ngawang Jigme, Buzzy, Baldwin Pennypacker e Greg. Recentemente foi a voz de Godspeed e fez o papel de Wally. Atualmente interpreta o personagem Hon Wing. Foi por bastante tempo o padre Ray Mukada, Dr. George Huang e tbem Hugo Strange. E, claro, foi o inesquecível e maquiavélico Zhi Zhang, Ministro de Segurança da China, tbem conhecido como Whiterose. 🥰 Vamos dar os parabéns para Bradley Darryl Wong ou, como o conhecemos, BD Wong!! Querido, feliz aniversário!! 🎊🎉🎈🥳 Desejamos muitas felicidades, amor, sucesso, saúde e muitos outros papéis incríveis!! Que o seu dia seja cheio de surpresas maravilhosas!! 🎂🍾🥂🎁🌹 . #ramimalek #bdwong #Cartier #Notimetodie #safin #Teamsafin #semtempoparamorrer #Lyutsifersafin #mrrobot #elliotalderson #Thepacific #snafu #borhap #bohemianrhapsody #freddiemercury #TheLittleThings #safinsquad https://www.instagram.com/p/CVbgUCmM12j/?utm_medium=tumblr

[jadedlavendergemini]

As Promised

Summary: If you were to ask Emma Moore how out of control her life became just before the apocalypse, she would have told you how she had never seen it coming. How she fell for someone that she should have avoided at all cost and how she had no control of any of it in anyway possible. Of course she had no clue of her own ‘destiny’. Michael Langdon x OC

A/N: please forgive me in advance as I had to write this on my phone, my laptop is being a bitch. So I’ve been think pretty heavily on this idea for a fic for a while. And I hope this is as original as can be, I’ve seen some fics with similar Story lines but here’s my twist. And after having a positive week and hearing some great feed back from other Authors, I thought it was the right time to post it. Just let me know if you want to be tagged for any future posts.

Tag list : @7-wonders @guiltyfiend @plymptxn @fallenangeldreamer @fckinsupreme

Part One:

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“Now, keep chanting the spell in your head, loud. Loud like a shout. I want you to keep concentrating on the wick of the candle.” Behold watched as the young girl’s hand hovered, slightly shaking above the candle on her desk. Another few seconds flew by and soon a flame had ignited. “Excellent, Emma!”

She opened her eyes, saw the flame and smiled. “That was a little harder than I thought.”

“Pyrokinesis is a lot harder than others would think. But you, little miss witch, hit it on the first try! Very impressive.” Behold watched as she turned back to the flame, smile slightly faltering. “Your father will be very impressed, you know.”

“I’m sure he will.” She replied, not meeting the instructor’s eyes.

Behold Chablis was one of four instructors at the Hawthorne academy. While her father preferred to teach Emma in most of her lessons, Behold also expressed interest in teaching the young witch. He voiced that she needed the occasional space from her father and that she would blossom into a successful witch with other instructors offering critique. And in honesty, Emma preferred her father or Behold in comparison to Baldwin Pennypacker, who treated Emma as if she were less gifted than the male students.

Tell you what,” he began closing her spell book. “Why don’t you take the rest of the afternoon off. You’ve been doing so well lately. If you want, you can even go run about the library. It shouldn’t be busy with any of the boys.”

“Really? But my father-“

“Your father will be please to know that you’ve been excelling every spell that I’ve thrown at you this week. Especially one known to be used in the Seven Wonders Test itself. Go on.”

The young girl smiled, grabbing her personal book and a pen. She was out the door when she gave a quick and sweet “Thank you!”

The halls of the secluded wing of the academy were quiet as Emma walked. Due to Hawthorne being an all boys school (Emma being an exception due to her father), she would have zero chances of running into the boy students in this particular area. Unfortunately the library was on the boys turf. Not like any of the boys bothered her, but on occasion one boy, overly cocky and brave would attempt to be a pest. Whether it was crude comments towards her body or abilities, or just constant chatting in her ear. Emma would whip up a good ole headache spell just to chase him away. Other students were too frightened of her father to even talk to her.

As she continues her walk, she worked on pulling her hair from the long braid it was in earlier and used her fingers to wave out any knots. As she approached the almost secluded library, her feet locked in place. Looking up, she was amazed to see a boy, dressed in the typical Hawthorne uniform facing a book shelve from which he was looking for something. She opted to turn around and quietly return to her room and study, but she found her feet to be stuck in the same place. And whatever noises she made in her attempt to leave seemed to trigger the boy. Turning around Emma was met with face that could be described as sculpted by god himself. His blue eyes poured into hers.

“I didn’t know anyone would be here. I’ll just-.” Emma quietly tried to form a sentence trying to make an final attempt to exit before hearing his voice.

“Please don’t leave because of me. I was going to retire for the night. I was just trying to find one book before I went.” His velvet voice sent the hairs on the back of neck stand. He turns back towards the hundreds of books, confusion covered his features as he searches for the correct title.

“I can help, I’m in here pretty much all the time, what are you looking for?” She asks, setting her notebook down on a nearby table.

The boy smiled and gave her the name. He watched as she held her hand up, her fingers slowly caressing each spine of the books. After a minute, she stopped at one before carefully pulling the book from its spot. Her lips formed a small smile as she gently placed the book into his large and expecting hands.

“Well, you seemed to have found that in no time.” He admired, returning her smile, ocean blue eyes not leaving hers. “Divination?”

“Nope, I meant it when I said I’m in here all the time.” She replied, eventually breaking eye contact with the boy. “Pathetic, really.”

“No not at all.” He says. He balances the novel in his left hand, raising his right hand for hers. “I’m Michael. Michael Langdon and you are....?”

“Emma Moore,” she places her smaller hand in his larger one. Taking note in the softness and warmth. It felt familiar and comforting in some way. “You’re the new boy everyone’s been gushing about. So... the alpha?”

Michael lets out a low chuckle. “I wouldn’t say that I’m ‘the alpha’. Just a new boy looking for answers about himself. And I haven’t seen any other witches here, yet. Am I to assume you’re the only one?”

She waits a moment longer until she pulls her hand away from his, taking note in the feeling. She places her hands behind her back. “I’m the only one, my father is an instructor here. Unfortunately, my father can’t stand Cordelia Goode or trust her. So here I am.”

“I wouldn’t call that unfortunate.” He replied. “I had my first lesson yesterday with him. He seems very intense.”

“He can be. But don’t worry he’s harmless.”

Michael smiles before gesturing to the book still in his hand. “Thank you again. Hopefully I’ll be seeing more of you?”

“Of course,” she said, walking past him to retrieve her notebook and pen from where it sat forgotten on the table. “I like to study in the library around this time, less students. If you need to catch up on anything or just feel like hanging out, I wouldn’t mind.”

“I’ll have to take you up on that offer sometime.” Michael smiles before making an exit down the hall. As he made his way down the candle lit corridor, he felt his heart pounding to a rhythm he was unfamiliar with and his hands felt the small sparks of energy she had released just moments ago from their handshake. Taking a quick turn around, he can still see her.

Emma had taken a seat on of the many couches. Her knees pulled towards herself, she was drawing her loosely waved dirty blonde hair into a bun before setting down and taking notes from another book.

Michael turns back. Hands clasped behind his back, with the book of course. And As he continues to walk away, he can’t stop the massive grin that’s on his face. Emma Moore. He felt the connection the moment they touched hands. Hers fit so perfectly in his, like a lost puzzle piece. He breathed in the sweet scent of her when she had moved past him and followed by demonic whispers of her name in his ears. She was the One.

After Michael had left, Emma tried to continue with her study’s. But her mind wandered to the conversation they had just shared. She barely knew the boy yet she already offered to hang around, not something she would normally do when it came to the other students at Hawthorne. And that feeling when their hands touched was odd, never had she felt something so comfortable with a stranger. And ever since his clear blue eyes looked into hers, she felt a slight buzz in the back of her head. Something was different about Michael and she couldn’t quite place it.

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About two hours had past and it was about dinner time. Emma had just begun to place the books back on the shelves and grab her notebook.

“Behold told me I’d find you here.” Spoke her father, John Henry as he made his way into the library. “How was your lesson today?”

“It was okay,” she replied, picking up her belongings and walking over to stand in front of him.

“Okay? Behold said you were able master pyrokinesis. And on the first try!” John Henry said proudly. “And to think you thought you would be better off at Robichaux's.”

The young witch just rolled her eyes. “Beginners luck, I guess. Where were you today? I thought you were going to be teaching me.”

“Well, I got caught up with Ariel today,” he explained, moving past his daughter and taking a seat on the couch. “He’s worked himself up over the new student. I don’t see how he doesn’t see what I do. As much as I want to think we have the Alpha in our midst, I don’t think it’s him.”

“You mean Michael?” She asked.

John Henry’s eyes shot to his daughter. “So you know who. I assume the other students talk very highly of him.” He scoffed.

“Yeah, we met earlier. I helped him find a book. Seemed like a normal warlock to me.” Emma replied, her eyes not meeting her fathers.

“Emma, I want you stay clear of Michael. I don’t have a very good feeling about him.”

“What-“ she attempted to question when he stood from his seat.

“Do I make myself clear?” He interrupted, voice slightly raised.

She looked to him and nodded. “Yes, sir.” She added quietly.

His eyes followed hers, he sighed before placing a hand on her shoulder and began guiding her out of the library. “I Just want you to stay on top of your studies and stay out of trouble. Alright? Let’s grab dinner, I want to hear all about your lesson today.”

[7-wonders]

Shatter pt. 10

Summary: You thought traveling through time was the hard part of this ordeal? Attempting to stop a revenge-seeking warlock, an angry Supreme, and one emotional Antichrist boi easily tops that.

Word Count: 2840

A/N: Honestly don’t even know how I managed to whip up a chapter in the midst of my life going to shambles, but I did it! Lemme know what you think, feedback is always appreciated, and if you liked this I’d love if you reblogged and left a comment.

Read Part One HERE | Read Part Two HERE | Read Part Three HERE | Read Part Four HERE | Read Part Five HERE | Read Part Six HERE | Read Part Seven HERE | Read Part Eight HERE | Read Part Nine HERE

The hot sun beats down on the California desert, scorching everything in its wake. Even the wind is hot, whipping sand through the air and placing those grainy particles right into your mouth. It takes both you and Mallory a moment to regain your bearings and get used to being in the past. Mallory looks down at her body before looking at you, a wide grin on her face. 

“Thank God, I thought I’d be stuck in that ugly gray uniform for the rest of my life.” Mallory’s back in the clothes that are so familiar, wearing a sheer black gown over a black slip and cinched with a gold belt. Her signature golden headband is nestled in her chocolate locks, and her eyes hold that same spark that they once did before the end of the world. 

“I have to agree. I don’t think I’ll ever be able to wear purple again.” The black of the lace tunic that matches the shade of the slip under it is comforting and reminds you of a home you thought had been lost forever. Your ankle boots are already making your feet start to ache after years of not having to wear them and, from Mallory shifting her weight from one foot to the other, you’d assume that she’s feeling the same way in her identical pair. “I forgot we had the same pair of shoes,” you note with delight.

“We shared so much of our wardrobes that I didn’t know we had two pairs of these for the longest time,” Mallory remembers fondly.

“I don’t mean to be rude and interrupt, because I could honestly spend all day just reminiscing with you, but if we want to stop the apocalypse then we need to hurry.” You grab Mallory’s arm and start walking, knowing that your destination is just over the hill. 

“And where exactly are we?”

“You said you would trust me, right?”

“Of course I did--I do, but-”

“Then trust me, Mal. I know Michael better than anyone, this is the point of no return for him.” The pieces start to click into place for Mallory. Being in the desert of California, what would constitute a major event for Michael that would only spur him quicker into the arms of his father, and why you’re both here instead of Mallory’s original plan of the Murder House (a conclusion that you had gathered upon learning that Mallory was meant to kill Michael when he was at his most vulnerable moment).

“Is this the day that the coven burnt Ariel and Baldwin at the stake?” You nod grimly. 

“They also killed the woman who had taken him in after his family had abandoned him. The coven killed Ms. Mead, which made Michael crazy with the desire for revenge. If we can stop Ms. Mead from being killed, then there’s a good chance that Michael never meets the Satanists that introduce him to the Cooperative. We can work to form an alliance with him and change his plans, instead of constantly running and fighting.” 

You know, as well as Mallory, that this plan could easily fail. You’re acting off of a hunch, and it’s a small hunch at that. Michael could still want to slaughter the coven due to their near-burning of his adoptive mother, and all of your efforts could be for naught. Knowing what you know now, however, the immense power that you possess and the depth of your love for Michael (and vice versa), you’re willing to bet your life, and the lives of seven billion people, on this hunch. 

“Let’s go, then. It’s-” Mallory pats her sides, eventually pulling a phone out of a pocket, “-eleven fifty, and executions are carried out at noon.” Her doe-eyes light up as she swipes the screen of her device, taking in the magic of electronics for the first time in almost two years. “I’ve missed a lot of things about life before the apocalypse, but electronics and wifi are definitely two of the top things.”

“I’d have to say seeing the sun again.” The warm rays act as an instant endorphin boost, making you tilt your head back in an effort to receive more of its’ warmth. “Remember before our memories got wiped, when Miss Cordelia sent you back to test and see if you could save Anastasia Romanov? Why is staying in the past so much easier for you this time?”

“Because the rising Supreme that I traveled with has enough power to easily keep both of us here until we complete what we’ve set out to do,” Mallory teases with a smile.

“You don’t really believe I’m the next Supreme. I mean, we’ve always operated on the assumption that you would be the next to lead the coven. And your magic’s just so strong that I just..” You trail off, leaving the question hanging. Everybody thought that Mallory was destined to be the Supreme, and you fell in line with that belief. The idea that you’re somehow stronger than a witch who has managed to bring an animal back to life and also restore its youth is hard to grasp.

“My magic is strong, you’re right. It’s light and airy,” she references the ‘feeling’ that all magic has attached to it, a gift that only a few witches possess, “things that Cordelia is highly attuned to. Your magic, however, is something I’ve never felt before. It’s fire and blood, death and destruction. You draw your magic from elements that aren’t of this realm, or any realm that I’ve ever heard of. I don’t know, maybe it’s tied to the fact that you’re in love with the fucking Antichrist.” 

“I guess--”

“Sorry, but I just--Cordelia always goes on about how it’s impossible for Michael to love anyone since he’s the Antichrist. That’s the basis of her argument as to why he’s irredeemable; because he can’t love. But, I’ve never seen anyone love more fiercely than how Michael loves you, and vice versa. If you really believe we can change the course of time, then I stand behind you. Michael would do anything for you.” You smile at the mention of your sweet lover, heart aching as you yearn to see him again.

“Michael used to tell me that he believed that, long before either of us were even born, our souls were together in whatever sort of spirit realm there is. I tend to believe him, considering I’ll never love anyone as much as I love Michael,” you say quietly as you coast over the hill, the tops of the stakes becoming visible from where you stand. “There’s this book that I read when I was younger; I didn’t care for it much, but there was always this one quote that stuck with me. After I told it to Michael, it sort of became ‘our’ quote: ‘And I’d choose you; in a hundred lifetimes, in a hundred worlds, in any version of reality, I’d find you and I’d choose you.’ Cliche, probably, but we’re made for each other.”

The sound of a bell interrupts the quiet of the desert, and Mallory grabs your arm and pulls you down among the sand. You watch as the accused are led out by the coven’s stoic guards, the council following along behind them. Cordelia, Coco, Queenie, Zoe, and Myrtle watch as the three traitors are tied to the stakes behind them, delicate black umbrellas shielding them from the sun. You remember this day, how you and Mallory stayed behind in New Orleans as you were given the ‘honor’ of teaching the younger girls while the senior coven members were away. It was actually just a way for Cordelia to make sure that you wouldn’t be able to interfere with the executions, knowing your relationship to Michael would throw a wrench in her plans. 

“Ariel Augustus, Baldwin Pennypacker,” Cordelia addresses the two warlocks. “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.” Two of the guards pick up cans of gasoline, emptying them onto the condemned men.

“Should we go?” Mallory whispers, stopping when you hold up a hand. 

“Not just yet,” you reply.

“Our people have long stood by an agreement that no witch may kill a condemned warlock. Only your brother may light the flame. I do not intend to break with that tradition today.” You stifle a gasp as John Henry Moore walks out, very much alive and not dead.

“How the fuck…?” You trail off.

“Oh, did I not mention that Cordelia had me bring him back to life?” Mallory says with a sheepish smile on her face.

“May I?” John Henry is handed his own can of gasoline, slowly walking towards Ms. Mead. 

You surge forward, deciding that it’s now or never to stop this event and hopefully stop the apocalypse. Grabbing Mallory’s arm, you transmute both of you in front of the rest of your coven. 

“Stop!” You yell, John Henry pausing right as he’s about to empty the can onto Ms. Mead.

“(Y/N)? Mallory? What are you two doing here? You were both given explicit instructions to stay with the other girls back at the house,” Cordelia steps forward, the anger in her eyes raging. While you would have been scared of this look years ago, nothing can scare you now.

“You can’t go through with this,” you plead loudly, voice carrying across the expanse of the execution area. 

“(Y/N), I have forgiven your prior relationship with Michael, but coming here in direct defiance of my orders is enough to have you burnt along with the others.”

“Cordelia, I’ve seen the future. If you do this, there will be no stopping the apocalypse.”

“I don’t recall clairvoyance as being one of your gifts.”

“It’s the Sight. At first, I wasn’t sure if what I was seeing was visions or really vivid dreams, but I’ve started having them when I’m awake as well. I saw it all; the slaughter of our coven at the hands of Michael, the apocalypse, what is to become of the world after it ends. If you kill Ms. Mead, you will lose any chance you have of working with Michael to devise an alternative solution.”

The Supreme stares at you for a long moment, trying to discern whether or not you’re lying. Technically, you’re not. You did develop some sort of Sight before Cordelia wiped your mind, and the dreams about Michael that plagued you for the entirety of your memory loss years were just an extension of that Sight. 

“She’s telling the truth,��� Mallory speaks up, sensing the head witch’s hesitation. “I was with her when she had this vision.” Cordelia, who has always trusted Mallory more than almost any other witch, looks at her skeptically for a moment before slowly nodding.

“You’re sure of what you saw, then?” You nod.

“More sure than I’ve ever been of anything.”

“Ariel and Baldwin still must face some sort of retribution for the murder of John Henry…”

“I’m not saying that they should escape punishment. You can do with them whatever you want. Ms. Mead, however, can’t be killed.” When no one goes to stop you, you undo the ropes that restrain Ms. Mead. John Henry, desperate for some sort of revenge, lifts his hand and engulfs his fellow warlocks in flames as you drag Ms. Mead away from the carnage. The stout woman, who has caught Michael sneaking around enough to have met you a couple of times, clutches your hand tightly when the ropes fall to the ground.

“My dear child, Satan will surely reward you for this!” She declares.

“I’m not doing this for you. You killed a warlock, one of my people, in cold blood. I’m only doing this because I care about Michael too much to let him ruin the world,” you say with a grim look on your face, turning to face Cordelia. “Thank you for trusting me.”

“And what do you suggest we do with her? Surely, we can’t just let her go,” Cordelia says. 

“That’s for you to decide, Miss Cordelia. You’ve already shown me enough mercy, and I don’t expect you to show me any more.”

“Ms. Mead!” A voice shouts in the distance, your heart racing as you hear the familiar voice. 

Michael walks towards the small group, eyes moving back and forth as he scans the scene. Suddenly, he’s not the suave, confident man you had been with less than an hour ago. This Michael is wearing a version of his Hawthorne uniform, messy blond curls short and smooth. His eyes brim with tears of emotion, and he clenches his fists at his side to keep from exploding. This is the Michael that you fell in love with, the boy that will always hold such a special place in your heart. A little messy, a little ruined, a little shattered: just like you.

“Michael,” you can’t stop yourself from calling his name, running into his arms before you can even think. He wraps himself around you protectively, kissing your forehead and brushing the hair off of your face. 

“What’s going on here?”

“Ms. Mead killed John Henry, and she was going to be executed for what she did. I stopped Cordelia from going through with it, though.”

“Why? Because it’s illegal to burn humans at the stake?” Damn, hadn’t thought of that. 

“I couldn’t let her die, not when I know how much she means to you.” 

“Thank you,” he pulls you impossibly closer, burying his head in your shoulder. “I love you so much, (Y/N).”

“I love you too, Michael.” You get a little choked up at the sudden nostalgia you feel for this Michael. You can only hope that some of this boy will remain in whatever Michael you encounter when you go back to your time. 

“Cordelia,” Michael says loudly, walking hand-in-hand towards the Supreme in a way that reminds you of the encounter with the same woman in what is now the future. Releasing you, he towers over the blonde woman in a way that has her almost cowering in fear. “If you ever fuck with me or my people again, I will make your life a living hell.” 

“You have my word, Michael, but you must promise me one thing first.” Michael raises an eyebrow, gesturing for Cordelia to go on. “Don’t go through with what your father has planned for you. Work with us, learn with us, and we can figure out a way to achieve both of our respective goals in a way that won’t irreparably damage the world.”

Michael looks hesitant, so you gently grab his chin and pull his attention towards you. “Listen to her. She’s not saying to completely turn your back on your father, she’s just saying that there’s other ways to achieve what you want without causing an armageddon.” 

“Why do I get the feeling you know something I don’t?” Michael mutters, obviously not used to you being the only one privy to information.

“Just trust me, okay? Learn some more about your magic, work together with my coven, and then make your decision instead of rushing into things while being blinded by emotions. Can you do that for me?” Michael stares at you before finally sighing and nodding, kissing the pads of your fingers lovingly. 

“You had better be right.”

“For all of our sakes, I hope so.”

“Alright, Cordelia, I’ll work with you,” Michael says to Cordelia, who slowly smiles in relief.

“That’s wonderful to hear, Michael.” You gasp at the tugging in your chest, feeling like a hook has snagged itself in your ribs and is pulling you somewhere. Michael’s concerned, and through the ringing in your ears you can hear him ask if you’re okay, but even through your pain you smile and nod.

“I think that’s our cue to leave. Michael, I love you. Always remember that you have a family.” Your form is starting to flicker, and you can see yourself wavering like a ghost. Mallory is the same way, taking stumbling, frantic steps forward to meet you before the spell wears off.

“But they’re all-”

“Family isn’t always blood. Family can be people who you hold dear to your heart. You’re my family, Michael Langdon.”

“(Y/N),” Mallory calls, gripping your hand right as your bodies disappear from this particular moment in time.

You feel as if you’re submerged in water again, the waves carrying you wherever they please. You don’t know if the world will remain the same as it was before you attempted the spell or if it will be different. If it is different, just how much have you been able to change by saving Ms. Mead from her fiery death? It does no good to dwell on these things, so you quiet your mind and allow the water to gently carry you towards your fate.

///////////

Tag List: @sammythankyou @queencocoakimmie @girlycakepops @pastel-cloudz @sebastianshoe @nana15774 @lichellaw @ultragibbycentralworld @grim-adventures58 @dandycandy75 @trimbooohgodplsnoooo @alexcornerblog @everything-is-awesomesauce  @ccodyfern @jimmlangdon @langdonsdemon @langdonslove @kahhlo @omgsuperstarg 

[saltywritings]

The Night We Met || Michael Langdon x Reader

Summary - the reader is burned at the stake with ms. mead, this is from michael’s point of view as he comes to the rude awakening of your death. 

Warnings - Sad as fuck. 

“Michael, I want to go with you. I hate staying cooped up in the house like some kind of old aged house wife,” Y/N begged, Michael. He had just completed the seven wonders, and was going off to branch for the new world he would be creating. You wanted to come along, desperately so.

However, he did not budge. “No, Y/N you must stay here. Ms. Mead will look after you while I’m gone. I can’t risk having you out there with me when you have something greater within you” Michael remained stern, he had laid a peck on your lips before going down to your stomach and laying a kiss. 

Within these few feet held everything Michael held dear to him. You, Ms. Mead, and the child forming within your womb. However, choosing to not bring you along with him would be the biggest mistake Michael would ever make. 

He would find himself standing in front of four wooden stakes with them corpses burnt to a crisp. Michael could feel in the air something horrible happened here. His breath was caught in his throat as Cordelia had been staring at him. 

“Do you know who it is that is burnt before you, Michael?” Cordelia questioned him as Michael turned around. He suspected the worse, he didn’t speak, and this did not stop Cordelia from continuing on her sentence. “Ariel Augustus, Baldwin Pennypacker, Mieram Mead” Cordelia went on, walking slightly along the line of each of them. 

“Don’t say it-” Michael started to warn her about the last one. It was tearing him apart that Ms. Mead had been burnt at the stake- but not you, how could he handle losing you and the unborn child that the two of you shared. 

“Y/N Langdon- burned for conspiring against the coven,” Cordelia said, her voice did not waiver and michael looked to the crisp of ashes that was left of his love. With her words he let out a blood curdling scream that contorted his arms. Weakly, he stumbled up toward you and tears formed in his eyes. This was his fault- it was Cordelia’s fault. Either way, this was avoidable. 

“She was pregnant!” Michael yelled out to Cordelia, as if it would have made any difference. Tears were running down his face as he fell down next to what was left of you. If he would have known the last time he kissed you goodbye would have been the last time he would have made it last, he would have held you in his arms, and he would have never let go. 

“Oh, we know. She begged, Michael. Y/N begged for her life in hopes that she would be spared for her baby. Miarm went quietly, but Y/N screamed for her life” Cordelia spoke the truth, even Michael knew this. It would make his heart swell with sorrow as his hands remained on the cement slab. When he closed his eyes he could feel your agony in your last moments. 

“Please, Cordelia! I don’t care for my life, not mine. But, please for all that is good and all that you stand for don’t do this. It’ll kill my baby! Please!” Y/N cried out sobbing as she struggled against the rope that confined her down. Even as the flames were lit you screamed “Please! Cordelia!” until it was over.

The tears were now streaming down Michael’s face, there had never been a bigger heart break then this. He was broken, beyond repair this time. The only motivation in his life resulted from Cordelia’s next words. “It’s over, Michael. You’ve failed” 

This would cause Michael to only shake his head in response, “No, Cordelia. Because of this, I’ve only just begun”

[fairyofthemoonandstars]

No Light in your bright blue eyes (End I)

Read Part I & Part II

In the evil’s heart 

When Y/N rose back, everything was blurry and the agitation around her was giving her the worst headache. All of her life so far seemed like a horrible nightmare that she just woke up from. Except it was reality. She died, her heart ripped out of her body. 

But panic took control all over her body when she didn’t recognize the place she was in. The creme colored walls, the smell of candles, and their light caressing her skin. And the faces and the voices around her were too much to handle, she was shaking in the bed, struggling with the persons restraining her. 

-Thank you for your help girls, leave us now. 

As soon as the voice asked, her order was executed. She could finally move freely. She recognized later the face owning that voice, it was Cordelia Goode, Supreme of all the Witches and Warlocks. Only then she remembered where she was, she had been there one time with her own Coven. But the questions were haunting her, what was she doing here? And how did she escaped Murder House? 

-You need to relax, nothing wrong will come to you. Her voice was soft and motherly. 

-How am I here? What happened? 

-When Madison told me what happened to you, I and my girls did everything we could to bring you back. And as you can tell, it is a success. 

-Am I alive? She was crying, not believing that she was back 

-Oh very much, my dear. Added the other woman on the room. 

She recognized the woman, Myrtle Snow, she had been dead for years, and yet she was here, standing on the other side of the bed. To clear up all questions, Cordelia started to answer every single one the young woman might have. How she brought Myrtle back, for this time of great need. All about the spell, they used on her to recreate a heart, and the young witch who performed it. 

-But why me? 

-You are your only hope to stop the Apocalypse. 

-But my powers are nothing spectacular, I’m not raising anywhere near yours. 

-It’s not for your powers that we brought you back, although you underestimate yourself. 

-It’s for your connection with that cocky little boy, believed to be the Antichrist …Added Myrtle, with a touch of irony that only her master so well. 

Michael, he had raised to a level that was scaring the Witches. His powers were beyond comprehension and with the support from the Warlocks, he could only grow stronger. She couldn’t believe at all that her sensitive little boy could have become the biggest threat to humanity. 

If she was the only way to stop him, then she would do it. Not only to save humanity, but mostly to save Michael from himself. But before taking any action, she was ordered to get some rest, and it was more than welcome as she was exhausted. 

                                                            **

-Cordelia, I was surprised to see you asking for a meeting, especially here. Said the Grand Chancellor of Hawthorne School. 

Ariel Augustus was a sinister man, yet the jubilation in his voice was impossible to miss. He knew that having Michael by his side, the next Supreme, was giving him a power he had sought for years. Overpowering the Witches was his biggest dream, so when Cordelia Goode had summoned a meeting in his school, his thirst of power had only grown. 

As they were welcome to enter the underground school, Y/N’s heart was beating so fast that she was afraid she might faint before even facing him. But nothing or no one would ever stop her to see him again, not even herself.

 Ariel followed closely by Baldwin Pennypacker and Behold Chablis, were leading the way to the living room of the instructors, change for the occasion, into a Council’s meeting room. Behold had difficulty hiding his treason to his fellow brothers as he recognized the hooded figure following behind Cordelia Goode and Zoe Benson. The young witch from Murder House, a ghost from Michael’s past, it seemed that the witches had successfully brought her back. 

Few minutes later, one of the doors opened to boy wonder, his golden curls shining in the light of the candles. He was excused for his lateness by a simple sign of Ariel’s head. After all, he was to be the next Supreme, he wasn’t late, everybody else was just early. He sat down at the table, just at the opposite of a mysterious witch, a hood covering her face. Michael looked at her suspiciously, as the rest of the group carried on the conversation. 

Finally his focus changed as Cordelia mentioned his name into the conversation. Y/N had a quick breath of relief, as she looked at him from under her hood. His featured had changed, he looked older but also more confident and handsome than ever before. What hadn’t changed was his eyes, the beautiful gun metal blue that could capture you within a second. She felt bewitch before him, he had nothing to do with the little boy she used to know. 

After the small discussion between the witches and the warlocks, Cordelia asked everyone to leave the room. As everyone rose and followed her order, excepted Y/N who was still hiding under her black cloak. Michael was the last one on the room with them, but Cordelia stopped him on his way, asking him to stay where he was. She left the room backward making sure he stayed in place. Only adding to Michael’s confusion, until he realized that the door was locked with the Supreme’s magic. 

Then he turned back to the only person who was in the room with him, ready to lash out all his anger and frustration. With pride, it seemed to be the only emotions that inhabited him for the past months. 

-Who are you? One of his eyebrows raised to the question 

To his surprise, this only question made her rose her hands to uncloak herself. With grace she put down the hood on her shoulders, revealing her face to him. A face that he knew far too well and he thought he would never see again. She was as beautiful as he remembered, her face hadn’t changed since he last saw her. That smile she was given him, so candid, took him back to his childhood. 

But then the pain came back as fast as lighting, striking him through the heart. The exact same pain he left when he learned she left him, she just ran away. He had no idea how far he was from the truth, how events really pulled out. 

-Why are you here?

-For you. 

-You have never been here for me, you ran away when I needed you! So don’t you dare tell me you are for me now!

He had broken the distance between them, his body overshadowing hers. His hands were shaking in his side, as he was trying not to touch her. Y/N was torn, when she saw how she failed him. Despite the facade he showed everyone she could see the little boy broken climbing his way out, he was so vulnerable. 

She used the small distance between them to initiate a contact. Her hand rose up to touch his cheek, she could almost touch his skin but his hand wrapped around her wrist stopping her movement. His eyes were filled with anger, but still that wasn’t frighting her. However, the waves of pain kept on going in her brain. She was desperate to let him know the truth. Although she knew he wouldn’t listen, she could try to use mind control over him. 

So she did, closing her eyes to focus, she used their contact to create a connection between them. Every single candles’ flames started to stagger around the room, Michael was fighting her, not wanting to put himself in a position that could weaken him. His powers were much stronger than hers, but her will to gain control was stronger. 

He knew he could out-stand her with the flick of a finger but one part of him didn’t want to. He still had a part of his heart softened by her love. So he finally let it go, allowing her into his mind. 

He immediately regretted his decision as she started playing her memories for him. He could feel every single emotions and sensations, the agony, it was overthrowing his own feelings. Silently, she was crying, forcing herself to relive everything she had been through. The pain was such that just after showing him the image of himself eating her heart, she had to let him go. 

Everything was dizzy, Y/N made it to the chair next to her just in time. She was holding her head as a sharp pain sneaked into her brain. Michael, on the other hand, hadn’t moved, he was stuck in place. His eyes wide open, reliving, again and again, the atrocities she had been through. 

-I’m sorry it had to be done that way. But it was the only way to make sure you would believe me. 

At her surprise, he didn’t explode in her face, no instead he stood there and said nothing. She looked at him with worried, the truth was harder to deal with for him than she expected. It was hurting her to see him so fragile. 

Everything in his mind was turning around, there was no words, no actions, nothing that could make up for what happened to her. He couldn’t help but to feel guilty, it was all his fault. He turned toward her, she wasn’t mad at him, on the contrary, she seemed worried. Making sure that he was soft with every single of his move, he kneeled in front of her, caressing her tight with his thumb. Like a gesture of peace, as a way to tell her to worry no more. 

-I’m so sorry. He broke softly crying on her laps.

-Everything is going to be fine now, I promise. 

As she crawled down her chair to take him into her arms, Michael hold her even tighter. There was nothing more comfortable than this, the contact of her skin against his. She could feel his tears rolling alongside her neck but she said nothing, just caressing his hair. 

There was nothing stronger than the two of them reunited. Michael knew that she would be here for him, always. In fact, she never really left him. 

Read  Ending II - Ending III

[crazycoke-addict]

My least favourite to favourite AHS Apocalypse Characters.

14. Ariel Augustus

13. Baldwin Pennypacker

12. Miriam Mead

11. Dinah Stevens

10. Emily

9. Timothy Campbell

8. Evie Gallant

7. Coco St. Pierre Vanderbilt

6. Behold Chalblis

5. Michael Langdon

4. Mallory

3. Mr Gallant

2. John Henry Moore

1. Wilhemina Venable

[hyenahunny]

AHS 8x07 Promo Breakdown

Heads up - possible/definite spoilers for the next episode

Welp I’m back on my bullshit, here we go - a fucking long shot-for-shot breakdown of the promo for American Horror Story Apocalypse’s 7th episode. This is hella long so I’m gonna put it under the cut but give it a look and tell me your thoughts.

1. It’s Mead! And she’s in the same store she was in when Michael knifed that butcher! It’s not that same day tho - her outfit is different.

2. Butcher guy behind his counter looking confused/shook, looking at something behind him and then turning back to face the camera

- pretty sure it’s not the same butcher Michael killed

3. Butcher guy wrappin’ up a hoof (what type idk i’m not a vet nor a farmer)

4. Mead lookin’ excited, and she’s finishing saying: “Just give me a pound and a half of goat’s hooves for Satanic zing.”

5. NEXT WEDNESDAY

6. Obviously in Robichaux’s. Ariel DrAmaTIcALLy walking through, holding a silver canister. A bunch of students droppin’ all around him, but he pays em no mind

7. Shot of his hand holding that same canister during that walk

8. Myrtle and Joan Collins (who is she playing for real is she still evie or??) sitting side by side at a table with hella food.

- it’s def in warlock high based on the background and lighting

- Joan says “Now they need to kill one of ours.” Which um makes it sound like they’ve killed a warlock? holy shit do they blame john henry moore’s death on the witches?? shit???

9. Baldwin Pennypacker (that’s literally on BD Wong’s imdb i can’t that’s the character’s actual name) in the dining room of Robichaux’s dining room blowing white dust off the top of the same canister we saw in shot 6 and 7 

- the plates are empty so dang they didn’t even get to eat

- Cordelia is standing at the head of the table with Joan Collins, who is still sitting while all the students behind them seem like they’re SCRAMBLIN’

10. oh SHEEEET it’s Cordy, Myrtle, Zoe, and one of their fuckin cool as hell henchmen are walking with their black parasols in an empty open area - and the henchman is carrying rope and a gasoline can. IT’S WITCH BURNIN TIME

- we know some of the people in attendance based on THIS pic from RM’s insta.

Cordelia, Myrtle, Zoe, Queenie, Coco, 3 henchmen, Michael (based on all of those photos of Cody with Sarah Paulson and that one pic of him bein a cutie on that same set) and also... JOHN HENRY MOORE? a bitch won’t stay bbq in this show this is gonna be w i l d 

11. Myrtle during the dinner scene in shot 8 saying “It’s kill or be killed” dramatic but v accurate which is very on brand for Myrtle

12. Someone sticking the barrel of a gun out a car window and shooting someone wearing a hooded cloak or something similar.

- the person they shot has shorter blonde hair but I really, really don’t think it’s Cordelia - her hair is longer

13. Joan Collins screaming on the floor and boy oh boy is that tacky wallpaper

14. a shot of the silver canister with white powder

15. Ariel looking at... Balwin Pennypacker (I can’t I just can’t) really intensely

16. Baldw - fuck imma just say BD - talking to Ariel. He says “Careful, it’s the deadliest I’ve ever created.” Great so they’re definitely murder bois now

17, 18. two SpOoPy shots of Dinah decked out in African-inspired prints with her hand up on a black background

19. Cordelia talking to Dinah outside (with like FANCY landscaping behind her) - she says “I need your help Dinah”

20. Cordelia and Dinah in a room that I thinkkkk is in Robichaux’s? They’re in the same outfits as the last shot and they seem to be doing some magic shiz

21. Dinah with some dope earrings in the same scene as shot 19 in front of a nice house and she says “I don’t do favors.”

22. A black woman’s hand making a doll with a tiny like rodent? skull for a head with voodoo markings on it

- I’m guessing it’s Dinah and I’m guessing she’s tryna summon Legba

23. PAPA LEGBA SHIT’S GONNA POP OFF

- He says “The Witch Queen? HAHAHAHAHA (echoing lols)”

24. Zoom in on Cordy on the leather couch in the warlock hogwarts’ library looking v serious

25. AMERICAN HORROR STORY APOCALYPSE ALL NEW NEXT WEDNESDAY AT 10PM hunny we been knew

so...

MY PREDICTIONS (i’m such trash)

Things I think are gonna happen: the witches are gonna be blamed for John Henry Moore’s death. 

So in retaliation Ariel and Baldwin Pennybaker (ugh) try and straight up murder all the witches. Idk what happens, looks like they’re pretty successful. BUT WAIT what if Mallory survived or resurrected herself and she brings back Zoe, Queenie, Cordelia, Coco, and Myrtle (and maybe she resurrects everyone else too) or something like that. Commence Operation IMMEDIATE MALE REGRET.

The witches somehow bring back John Henry Moore. Because JHM might be barbeque, but I don’t see that as a problem for Mallory.  and he’s like nope I wasn’t killed by them, I was killed by Kathy Bates. And they burn ol’ Baldy and Ariel for what they did. And maybe this makes JHM the eponymous traitor of the episode for helping the witches. 

And maybe they find Mead and burn her too. Michael couldn’t reveal his connection to her without outing himself as connected to the crime of killing the one guy who wasn’t on Team Michael at the time. So he watches Mead burn and decides welp i better start really doubling down on this ending the world business. Let’s murder people and start a business venture that makes fallout shelters and robots.

ALTERNATIVELY the burning scene is at the beginning and they’re burning three (a number based on the instas taken on set) warlocks. For some reason. Idk. No matter what Cordelia wouldn’t allow the burning of any witches.

But this doesn’t really make sense because JHM is in the burning scene. So?

I’m not sure why or when Cordelia tries to contact Papa Legba.

Maybe Behold and Madison communicate somehow to Cordy what they found out and Cordy goes to the one person she knows who can contact (a) devil. IT’S DINAH Y’ALL. It seems like Dinah does help her but as she said - she doesn’t do favors. So who knows what Cordelia gives up ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Maybe instead of just asking Papa Legba about Michael she asks to be made temporarily un-killable - like Marie Laveau bc tbt when she was dismembered but still serving sass before she was BeTRaYeD (i’m bitter she could have just been reassembled like Kyle goddammit.) Because if she’s not dead, she’s still the FUCKING Supreme. 

It’s gonna be an intense episode.

[theobscurial]

AMERICAN HORROR STORY: APOCALYPSE

A verse available to those who write in AHS: Apocalypse. I have a main Michael ( @antichrist-michaelangdon-ahs) and have formed a story with his writer, but it should work for everyone else, too. However, please don’t ask me to change anything in my story. I have literally written Credence to be as unpowerful as I can possibly make him, with a touch of humanity.

TRIGGER WARNINGS: rape, abusive childhood, demonic activity, murder, blood, probably a million other things i should probably say is a warning and did not.

Unlike most children, Credence wasn’t born into a “loving” family. Truth be told, the boy wasn’t born into much of a family at all. His mother was the first to say his father was a WICKED MAN and that something was off about him. If something went wrong, she was quick to point the finger at her son, too. It was the little things that Credence did that got to her. The way his anger would get out of control. The way he’d coward in a corner when she’d scream at him. The way he seemed detached from normal, human emotion. When his magic reared its head, things got even more difficult. His mother was a witch -- a member of the coven -- and Credence had gained her abilities genetically, but he had also gained something else. Something DARKER. Something only his father would have understood, had he remained in the picture. As a means to try to suppress the dark energy, his mother often took to beating him, thinking it would somehow keep him from connecting to whatever was inside of him.

Credence will be the first person to tell you he doesn’t remember how his mother died, but since he was the cause of it, you better bet he remembers. After the beatings became too much, Credence burned her, much like humans did to witches back in the day. A stake may not have been involved, but by the time he was done, she was nothing but a crispy pile of ashes and as far as he was concerned, no one would ever find her. He left home shortly after that, only to be found by Baldwin Pennypacker. After rumors spread about some sort of Alpha climbing the ranks in the Warlock community, the Warlock Council seemed obsessed with the idea of finding someone that fit the role and was looking in various places. For Credence, it was a good thing. He was rescued from whatever shitty life he would have created for himself and was taken to Hawthorne School for Exceptional Young Men where he started to study. He was often scrutinized by John Henry Moore, simply because he was different from the rest. He excelled at his tests, but for some reason, he could never make it passed RANK 3. When another boy came to the academy, Credence was thankful all eyes had been taken off of him. His magic was still slowly spiraling out of control and it took a long time for him to get a firm grasp on it. Unlike most, his magic had the ability to become it’s own force, often showing up as a cloud of smoke, destroying everything in its path. DARK and MALEVOLENT is a good way to describe his magic, but demonic possession had nothing to do with it.

Although he personally didn’t make much contact with Michael Langdon in the beginning (he was too busy), he did know of him. When Michael slaughtered all the wards in the school, Credence was the ONLY person to survive and for the longest time, the question was why. The only answer he got? A bunch of riddles and some promises of learning who he really was as long as he remained loyal. With no other option, he did exactly just that. He remained loyal and slowly started to prepare for the Apocalypse, completing tasks assigned to him by Michael, becoming an agent of THE COOPERATIVE.

When the bomb went off, Credence was already secure in an outpost, safe from the explosion. When Michael came to visit him, that’s when he learned of his true nature. His father was ASMODEUS, a Prince of Hell and he was half demon, which explained his darkness. He personally has no idea how Michael came across this information, but he had no reason to doubt him. After all, the piece that had been missing had finally fallen into place. When Michael destroyed the Outpost he was secured in, he was invited to join him at Outpost 3, though he kept to himself mostly.

As someone who still has a touch of his humanity (but is losing it very quickly), he does often question what is right and WRONG. But one thing that hasn’t changed? His loyalty to Michael and his cause. They both come from darkness and if Credence wants to survive this new world, he needs Michael.

POWERS

Telekinesis, Pyrokinesis, Teleportation (Transmutation), Descensum, Levitation

INSTRUMENTAL CRAFTS

Spellcraft

[dalekofchaos]

Who are your most hated AHS characters throughout the current run of AHS?

Not really a character, but I really hate the absolutely atrocious and disrespectful portrayal of Anton Levay.

As for characters I don’t like. 

Mr. Gallant

Evie Gallant

Brock

Ariel Augustus

Baldwin Pennypacker