#michael langdon x mallory

[crown-ov-horns]

"I want a world without the hypocrisy. With the kinds of people who wouldn't just eat from the fruit of the forbidden tree but who'd cut the fucking tree down and burn it for firewood. I think you're made for that world, Mallory. I sense it in you."

American Horror Story: Apocalypse ("Forbidden Fruit")

[applepiewinchesters]

Ave Satanas, Bitch (Michael Langdon x fem!reader)

A/N: Michael Langdon is one of my favorite characters and I finally decided to write something about him to post! I hope you enjoy even if I did kill a few favorite characters (also my faves but a good story about the antichrist has to have a little murder). Anyway, thank you for reading and let me know what you think. 

Word Count: 1,248

Summary: When the witches come knocking at the outpost, Michael underestimates what you will do to help him continue his reign of the new world. 

You watched from your seat on the bed as Ms. Mead helped Michael into his red velvet jacket. He looked handsome, red truly did suit him.

When he turned, looking to you for approval, you smiled.

“Very handsome,” you reassured, standing up, your black dress skimming the floor as you did so.

It was Michael’s turn to smile, but he suddenly tilted his head slightly, listening.

“We have guests, I believe some of our residents have risen from the dead, powerful ones at that,” he spoke, turning to you again.

He came over to you, taking your face in his hands.

“Promise me you will stay here, this is not your fight,” Michael instructed you, making your brow furrow.

“I’m not leaving you to fend for yourself, I’m a big girl Michael,” you told him.

“That you are little one, but I am not the mortal in this relationship, and I cannot afford to lose you,” Michael spoke, sterner this time.

“Fine,” you pouted, making Michael chuckle.

“I’ll be back soon, and then we’ll go home,” he reassured, and you nodded.

Michael pressed a kiss to your forehead and let go of your face.

“I love you,” you told him as he made his way towards the bedroom door.

“And I you,” Michael replied, and with that, he disappeared out the door with Ms. Mead following faithfully behind him.

You sat back down, picking at your nails. If the witches were here, you couldn’t help but be nervous. They could be powerful, especially when all combined. But Michael had grown even more powerful since the fallout, practicing his skills daily.

You were confident in him but losing him was a deep-rooted fear of yours. You had no idea what would become of yourself if he was not by your side.

It seemed forever had passed before the sound of gunshots made your head snap up. You stood from the bed, quickly walking to the door, and cracking it open, listening.

You heard footsteps and hid behind the door as someone ran past. After they passed you snuck out the door, making your way to the stairs just in time to see Michael stand from the floor, covered in blood.

Madison Montgomery stood at the bottom on the staircase, before she could speak, with a quick flick of Michael’s wrist, her head exploded and her body collapsed to the floor, making you gasp, catching Michael’s attention.

He turned, almost shocked to see you there, “Get back to the room, now!”.

You opened your mouth to protest but there was a resounding pop and you were back in the bedroom. Cursing Michael quietly you moved towards the door and turned the knob.

It seems in sending you back to your room Michael hadn’t thought to lock you inside. Before leaving the room, you grabbed your bag, retrieving a dagger you’d brought with.

While Michael reassured he’d always be there to protect you, he seemed to need your help now more than you needed his.

Sneaking from the room once more you made your way down a hall, hearing a familiar voice you turned the corner, just in time to see Michael rip a women’s heart from her chest and take a bite.

Coco, a witch you recognized from the academy before the war, stood in front of Michael. You had no idea how powerful she was, so without hesitation you came at her from the side, plunging your dagger into her neck.

A shower of blood sprayed you, ruining your dress and painting your skin red.

Coco collapsed, blood pooling beneath her.

When you turned to Michael, he had a proud smile on his face.

“Evil looks good on you darling,” he complimented, making you giggle.

“I learned from the best,” you replied, reaching down, and pulling your dagger from the witch’s neck.

Michael smirked, “It seems I underestimated you, come, we have a coven to finish.”

You nodded and followed Michael down the hall, a pool of blood appeared halfway down, a trail following it, neither of you were bleeding, so that means one of the witches were wounded. Perfect.

Michael stopped suddenly, pulling you behind him, Cordelia stood at the end of one of the adjoining halls.

“How did you think this was going to end?” Michael suddenly asked. “Prophecy is inevitable. I was always going to win Miss Supreme.

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

“Oh, but I never expected to, like a cockroach I knew you’d survive the nuclear blast,” Michael retorted, smirking. “And now I will get the satisfaction of watching you die.”

“You still don’t get it do you?” Cordelia replied, wearing a smile of her own. “Even now. You think there’s only winning and losing, success and failure. But failure is when you’ve lost any semblance of hope…”.

As Cordelia continued, Michael leaned behind him, whispering to you, “Down the hall, the bathroom, kill her.”

You nodded and took off, sprinting down the hall, when you found the bathroom he was talking about you were greeted by Mallory, slowly fading in a tub full of water due to a stab wound to the gut.

Wasting no time you moved forward, grabbing the girl by her hair and yanking her up.

“Ave Satanas bitch,” you hissed, before easily sliding your dagger across her throat, before plunging it into her heart, making sure the job was done.

Blood stained the water red as Mallory sunk into the bath and you admired your handiwork.

“You bitch!” came a voice from the door, and you turned to see the witch with the wild red hair standing there.

She held out her hand but before she could harm you, her neck snapped to the side roughly and she collapsed.

Footsteps neared you and Michael appeared in the doorway. He looked around you to the tub where Mallory’s body lay.

“Now that’s my girl,” he told you and you smiled, moving to embrace him tightly, arms wrapping around his neck.

“They’re all dead?” you asked, looking up at Michael for confirmation.

He nodded, “Miss Supreme sacrificed herself just as you slit little Mallory’s throat.”

You smiled, reaching up to press a passionate kiss to his lips. He returned the sentiment, arms wrapping around you, pulling you closer.

When you pulled away you rested your head on his chest, “Let’s go home.”

Michael hummed in agreement, taking your hand and leading you from the bathroom, it burst into flames behind you.

As you walked throughout the outpost every room exploded, glass breaking, flames licking the walls.

The flames didn’t dare touch you, Michael made sure of that. You both walked out of the outpost, Michael still making sure the elements did you no harm, and onto what was left of the barren lawn to the carriage waiting for you.

Michael helped you up into it, forever a gentleman to you and only you. He followed suit and soon the carriage took off, taking you both back home to the sanctuary.

You were empty handed, but Michael felt like the richest man on earth, and with you by his side, hand in his, he could accomplish anything.

[hart269]

Blasé

Pairing : Michael Langdon x GN!Reader

Summary : You feel your husband grow distant from you and one day everything just snaps.

Warning : Angst and a little bit of violence with swearing.

Masterlist / Part 2

The wind blew cooling your flushed body as you jogged through the woods just behind your backyard. You and your husband Michael had moved into this new house a year after your marriage.

You two had been pretty young when you got married. It was a nice ceremony and everything, but as most marriages do, yours also has been grown stale over the years.

You did love him, but you weren't so sure of your feelings being reciprocated, surely not the last couple months. Michael had been nothing but cold and distant and the occasional mean when you've done something you're not "supposed" to do.

He had never physically hurt you but you were becoming less and less sure of it as time went by. This all had started slowly, Michael had started loosing interest and started spending more time outside the house rather than inside. His touches and hugs had slowly disappeared and when you tried to initiate it, he quickly brushed it off saying he was either too busy or tired. You didn't think he loved you anymore.

Your suspicions were pretty much confirmed when you went to an office party with him, he had ignored you most of the night instead opting to speak to his seniors and the new co-worker Mallory. You couldn't deny that she was beautiful. It saddened you but when you tried to talk to Michael about it he just called you jealous and that you were making up stuff.

You shook your head as you continued on your trail, maybe you should have left him but you loved him too much to consider leaving him just yet. So you did what you usually do, sitting in the shade of the big tree near a flower meadow.

It always provided with an odd sense of comfort, you felt like as if someone was holding your hand saying it'll be alright or maybe you had started to become delusional, you were not sure.

It had been pretty much your daily routine until one day Michael was home late, he did sometime had work come up but he texted you about it. But today, none was the case, it was after midnight when he returned, stumbling through the door.

"Michael, are you drunk" you exclaimed gazing up to his red eyes and loosened up tie.

"I'm not, I'm just a little tipsy" he defended himself doing his best not to slur his words.

"Michael you drove here, something could have happened you should have called me, you didn't even tell me you were going to be late" you pointed out.

"So, what now I have to take your permission for staying out late" His tone was acussing as he leaned down on you, making you take a step back.

I'm not saying that, I am just saying you could have told me, so I wouldn't have been worrie-"

Your words were cut off as he slammed you against the wall, you gasped as pain shot up in your back. Micheal's fingers dug into your shoulders as you whimpered.

"Do not tell me what to do, I CAN DO WHATEVER THE FUCK I WANT" he yelled, glaring as his piercing blue eyes dug into your watery ones.

You were speechless, you had no idea what to do or what caused this outburst. Michael stepped back and went to wear his shoes back up as if nothing happened.

"I'm going for a walk" was the only explanation he offered before he disappeared into the woods into the dark.

You slid down the wall as tears flowed freely as you sobbed bringing your knees near you and leaning your head against the wall, and you cried until you fell asleep there on the cold hard ground.

[7-wonders]

Past the Point of No Return

Michael Langdon x Reader (Mad Love Act II, Chapter X)

Summary: What's meant to be you trying to get Michael out of the funk he's been in since your return from New Orleans quickly goes south. What happens when things are said that can't be taken back?

Word Count: 2.6k

Author's Note: So, here we go. It's about to get really dark for the next few chapters because Michael and Reader are about to go through hell. Regardless, I hope you stick around and continue to read, because I'm excited for what I'm going to be cooking up for you.

Mad Love Masterlist

Your fun Fall Break trip was cut shorter than you would have liked. The plans that you and Michael had tentatively made with Mallory that night before you summoned Papa Legba had been destroyed by the gatekeeper’s bold ask and the revelation that parts of the infernal leagues weren’t on Satan’s side. Michael claimed that he had found the information that he needed to banish Cordelia and that there was no reason to continue to stay in New Orleans—a lie, you were sure. When you bid farewell to your best friend, both of you shared a silent worry about what was to come. A worry that, in your opinion, was warranted.

Michael…hadn’t been the same, since that night at Dinah’s studio. You knew this from almost the moment that you left, when you tried to tempt him into joining the mile-high club with you (Don’t judge, okay? You have a super hot husband, how could you not be tempted to proposition him?) and he had turned you down in favor of staring in perturbation out the plane window for the entirety of the ride home. It didn’t stop there, though you wish it would have.

Ever since you returned home, he’s become quieter and more brooding than normal. He spends far more time in his office or at Kineros than he does with you, constantly planning for—well, you know what he’s planning for, and you don’t want to even think about it. Whether it was the experience with Cordelia or what he learned from Papa Legba, a fire had been lit under Michael, and he was now determined to continue his plans for the apocalypse. 

Regardless of the reasons, he’s distant, more distant than you’ve ever known him to be. Your normally loving, almost-overbearing husband is gone, at least for the time being.

It frightens you, if you’re being completely honest with yourself. You used to be able to read him and his emotions so easily, but now he’s completely closed off to you. You don’t know what’s going on in his head anymore, but you know that it’s nothing good. You want so badly to relieve him of the dark thoughts that are plaguing his mind, but you’re also worried that it might be too late. 

Though you’re willing to give him his space–you’ve never wanted to be clingy–it’s now been two days since you’ve seen him; even at night, he chooses to sleep in his bed (you’re not sure if he sleeps at all) instead of with you. You miss him, even though he’s in the same house as you. Fed up, you find yourself standing in front of his office door and silently debating with yourself on whether you want to bother disturbing him or not.

Before you can decide, Michael’s voice comes through the door. “I know you’re out there. You can come in.”

Beating back the embarrassment over being caught, you open the door.

There he is, sitting behind his paper-scattered desk and looking over something on his computer. The sunlight streams in through the windows, making his blond curls glow golden. It’s beautiful and familiar, and your heart aches at the thought that he’s trying to become a stranger to you.

“Hi,” you say softly, suddenly shy in a room that you once used to enter with all the confidence in the world. “Are you busy?”

He sighs. “Yes, but I’ll always make time for you.”

Michael pushes his chair away from his desk as you make your way across the room and towards him, allowing you to settle yourself onto his lap. After you do, you kiss him softly and sweetly, both of you just enjoying getting to be in the other’s embrace for a short moment.

“I miss you,” you admit, laying your head on his shoulder.

“What do you mean? I’m right here.”

“I know that. Physically, you are. But you’re always working now. I don’t ever get to see you anymore.”

“I’m sorry,” he says honestly and guiltily. “I don’t mean to.”

“You don’t have to apologize. You just need to make sure that you’re taking care of yourself. Or that you let me take care of you.” You look up at him. “Y’know, even Brennan mentioned that you’ve been dodging his texts.” 

The two had actually become friends after that night during Homecoming, and they usually got together to play video games at least once a week. That Michael had abandoned this plan gave you yet another reason to worry about him.

“It’s not on purpose. I’m just…” Michael trails off, knowing that he’s about to sound like a broken record.

“Busy. I know.” 

You think that it kind of is on purpose; he’s withdrawing from everyone that cares about him, and you assume this is his attempt to try and make going full Antichrist easier. You refuse to let that happen; you can’t lose him to Satan. This leads you into your careful segue, your true reason for visiting here in the first place. 

“Hey, speaking of taking care of yourself: How would you feel about going on a double date?”

“A double date?”

You nod. “Yeah! It could be a good stress reliever and a way for you to get out of the house for a night.”

“What is a double date?”

“Where we go on a date, but with another couple. Specifically Kate and Brennan?” Michael looks at you in bewilderment, and you backtrack when you realize what his line of thought is. “Not like that! We’re hanging out as friends, but you and I are in a relationship and Kate and Brennan are in one of their own.”

“Is there a plan in mind for this double date?”

You shrug, feeling thrilled that he’s even pondering the idea. This conversation has felt so normal that it starts to get a little seed of hope blooming within you. Already, you’re imagining a night of fun, one that will finally have your relationship going back to the way that it was. “Bowling was discussed as an option, but nothing’s really set in stone yet. Maybe we go to an arcade?”

“That sounds fun,” Michael agrees. “But I don’t think I can make it work right now.”

You sigh in disappointment. Really, you should have expected this. That doesn’t make it sting less. “Michael,” you groan.

“I know,” he sympathizes. “But I have to get this done.”

“What are you working on?”

“What am I always working on?” he retorts. 

Though it’s meant to be teasing, when you realize what he means, panic begins to thud in your chest. Michael, of course, picks up on this immediately. He shifts you in his lap so that your body is facing him now, leaving you no choice but to look at him unless you want to make it obvious that you’re ignoring him.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” you say, quickly and in a tone that doesn’t reassure him at all.

“Please don’t lie to me.”

“Fine. I’m worried.”

“About what?”

“About you. You haven’t been the same since we got back from New Orleans.”

“I mean, I won’t argue with that. Our trip was enlightening to me. Papa Legba showed me that I’ve been neglecting my duties. I have to get serious about my purpose, or else other beings will continue to question me, my father, and my power.”

Oh god, here it comes. You know what you have to say next, but you don’t know if you’re going to be able to do so. The moment that you’ve been dreading for months now is upon you. Up until now, you’ve been able to toe the line and subtly suggest that the apocalypse might not actually be a good idea. Now, there’s no skirting around it. You’re on a figurative precipice, and there’s nothing you can do but jump.

“Michael…” you start. “You can’t end the world.”

It’s as though some omnipotent being has hit slow-motion on their remote, stretching the scene that is your life out. You can almost see Michael processing what you’ve just said to him and the way that it clicks in his mind. When it does, shock begins to grow in his eyes, making them large and betrayed. You feel like a spectator to your own life, and it almost makes you want to take back what you said.

Then, a button on the remote is pressed again, and life goes back to normal speed.

“What?” He stands in surprise, nearly toppling you off of his lap. You stumble to your own feet, standing opposite him as he turns around to face you. “What are you talking about?”

Though you want to cower in the face of his rising anger, you stand tall. “I don’t want you to bring about the apocalypse. You can’t. It’s cruel and unjust and–and senseless!”

A shadow crosses his face. “It is my destiny to bring about the end of days. I was born and raised to do this, I can’t just…shun that.”

“Yes, you can.” You grab his hands. “Michael, think about it. You have The Cooperative in the palms of your hands. Surely you can convince them that there are better ways to achieve world domination, ways that don’t involve ending the world?”

You can think of multiple ways off the top of your head. Maybe Michael could become President or a diplomat. Maybe he incites uprisings to topple other governments. Maybe he becomes an influential figure and gets the entire world to stand with him. You’re not sure how it would be accomplished, but again, Michael has the richest and most powerful people in the world at his beck and call. If anybody can make it happen, it’s him.

Even still, Michael shakes his head. “No. It is prophesied that I am to bring about the end of days, and that’s what’s going to happen.”

“By dropping nuclear bombs on billions of innocent people?” you say incredulously, hoping that he’ll hear just how ridiculous it sounds. “Okay, what about our plans? Of me going to graduate school, of us moving somewhere new? Getting to explore the world together, and getting to be us? They’re just gone now because you’ve decided that listening to your father is better than a life with your wife?”

“It was foolish to make those in the first place. I’m just delaying the inevitable.”

You know that this isn’t really what he wants. That he’s acting on his father’s orders because Cordelia and Papa Legba both scared him into thinking about the potential consequences of disobeying him. Disobeying Satan has never scared Michael before though, which means that there must have been something between the lines that you hadn’t been able to read.

“Michael, please. I’m begging you. Think about all of the people that you’re going to kill! Kate and Mallory and Brennan? My–” your voice breaks. “My parents, who have done nothing but love and accept you as their own?”

“Their deaths fulfill a purpose,” he says simply and robotically.

You release his hands, the thought of continuing to touch him making you sick. “What is wrong with you?”

“What’s wrong with me? What’s wrong with you? You’re supposed to stand by my side during this! Why are you not supporting me?”

“You want me to support you blowing up the entire planet? You want my support as you end the world?” you ask in disbelief.

“Yes!”

“How would you ever think that I could support you during this?”

“Because you’re my wife!” he yells.

“Yes, I am. But that does not mean I’ll support you when you’re making the most colossal mistake anybody could ever make.”

The electricity in the room begins to flicker and the ground under you rumbles as Michael grows more angry. Shadows begin to grow and warp behind him, and his face switches back and forth between the face that you know and love and that of the demon that lives within him. Still, you refuse to stand down.

“If you do this, Michael, do not expect me to stand by you. Physically, you can force me to play the part of your dutiful little wife. Otherwise? You’ll lose me for good. I will never be able to love a monster like you.”

Instead of saying anything in defense, Michael stalks to the door and throws it open, apparently deciding that if you won’t leave, he’ll leave instead. He knows where you stand on this matter now, and he knows that it’s the complete opposite of where he is. You’re so full of rage and hurt, though, that you can’t resist the last barb that’s been on your mind since your conversation turned into an argument.

“Y’know, ending the world isn’t gonna make your father love you like you want him to,” you call out to his retreating form.

He freezes in the doorframe for only a moment before saying over his shoulder, “The world will end, my love. And you will be right there with me when it does.” 

This is not a threat, you know. It’s a promise.

When the door slams shut behind him, you fall to the floor with a sob as your resolve leaves your body all at once. You truly can’t believe that it’s come to this, you think as you shakily grab your phone out of your pocket and call the first person that you can think of.

“Hey, I was just about to call you!” Mallory answers her phone cheerfully. “I think I finally found a banishing spell that’ll work for you and Michael.” 

She trails off when she hears the sounds of you trying to stop your crying over the line. 

“What’s wrong?”

“Mallory, Michael’s going to end the world, and soon.”

“He told you this?” she asks seriously, all traces of her earlier lightheartedness gone.

“We just got into a fight. I asked him not to go through with the apocalypse, and he–” You cut yourself off with a sobbing hiccup, “he was so angry that I even suggested it. I don’t even know what happened; one minute everything was fine, and the next we were yelling at each other. I told him that, emotionally, he’d lose me as his wife if he did it. He told me that it was happening and that I’d be right there with him as it did.”

“Oh no.”

“What do we do?” You’re sure that you sound as hopeless as you feel.

“I…” Mallory falls silent on the other end of the line. “I’m not sure. Let me think for a bit, okay?”

You have no clue if she can actually come up with something, or if she’s just saying this to try and provide you with a bit of comfort. Either way, it works enough that you can stop sobbing and whimper out an, “Okay.”

“Hey. We’re going to figure this out. Everything will be okay.”

“I don’t believe you.”

“I know. But I believe me. Can that be enough for you right now?” It sounds oddly reminiscent of the conversation that you had with her back in New Orleans, only now, the roles have been reversed.

You nod before remembering that she can’t actually see you through the phone. “Yeah.”

You don’t even realize that you’ve said bye to her until you hear the beeping in your ear that signifies the call’s been ended, your world having been completely tipped off of its axis. Everything that you’ve worked so hard to try and hide is now out in the open, and you’re terrified about the potential ramifications. 

How could this have gone so wrong, and so quickly?

///

Tag List: @thatonehumanbeing05 @michaellangdon @xavierplympton @hecohansen31 @blakescoven @wroteclassicaly @we-did-it-joe @codycrazy @love-on-the-murder-scene @michaellangdonswhore @nsainmoonchild @langdonsjoyy @aftertheglitterfades @ferndolan @iamlivingforturner @moonlike333 @narwhal-swimmingintheocean @angiestopit @littleangel4996 @xo-angel-ox

[multimuseficreblogs]

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𝐩𝐞𝐧𝐞𝐥𝐨𝐩𝐞 𝐠𝐚𝐫𝐜𝐢𝐚 ❅ all penelope garcia 𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐢𝐝 ❅ all spencer reid

𝐄𝐔𝐏𝐇𝐎𝐑𝐈𝐀

𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐞𝐮𝐩𝐡𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐚 ❅ all euphoria ❅ all euphoria masterlists ❅ all euphoria smut ❅ all euphoria fluff ❅ all euphoria angst 𝐜𝐚𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐞 𝐡𝐨𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐝 ❅ all cassie howard ❅ all cassie smut ❅ all cassie fluff ❅ all cassie angst 𝐟𝐞𝐳𝐜𝐨 ❅ all fezco ❅ all fezco smut ❅ all fezco fluff ❅ all fezco angst 𝐣𝐮𝐥𝐞𝐬 𝐯𝐚𝐮𝐠𝐡𝐧 ❅ all jules vaughn 𝐤𝐚𝐭 𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐧𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐳 ❅ all kat hernandez  𝐥𝐞𝐱𝐢 𝐡𝐨𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐝 ❅ all lexi howard 𝐦𝐚𝐝𝐝𝐲 𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐳 ❅ all maddy perez ❅ all maddy smut ❅ all maddy fluff ❅ all maddy angst 𝐧𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐣𝐚𝐜𝐨𝐛𝐬 ❅ all nate jacobs ❅ all nate smut ❅ all nate fluff ❅ all nate angst 𝐫𝐮𝐞 𝐛𝐞𝐧𝐧𝐞𝐭𝐭 ❅ all rue bennett 

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐌𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐀𝐋𝐎𝐑𝐈𝐀𝐍

𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐦𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐚𝐥𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐚𝐧 ❅ all the mandalorian

𝐛𝐨-𝐤𝐚𝐭𝐚𝐧 ❅ all bo-katan ❅ all bo-katan smut ❅ all bo-katan fluff ❅ all bo-katan angst 𝐛𝐨𝐛𝐚 𝐟𝐞𝐭𝐭 ❅ all boba fett ❅ all boba smut ❅ all boba fluff ❅ all boba angst 𝐝𝐢𝐧 𝐝𝐣𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐧 ❅ all din djarin ❅ all din smut ❅ all din fluff ❅ all din angst ❅ all din x gn reader ❅ all din x male reader ❅ all din x plus size reader

[multifixwritings]

American Horror Story

(x Reader)

Austin Sommers *nothing here yet

Brooke Thompson *nothing here yet

Constance Langdon *nothing here yet

Cordelia Goode *nothing here yet

Elizabeth March *nothing here yet

James March *nothing here yet

Kai Anderson *nothing here yet

Kit Walker *nothing here yet

Lana Winters *nothing here yet

Madison Montgomery *nothing here yet

Mallory *nothing here yet

Michael Langdon *nothing here yet

Montana Duke *nothing here yet

Oliver Thredson *nothing here yet

Sister Mary Eunice *nothing here yet

Wilhemina Venable *nothing here yet

Xavier Plympton *nothing here yet

Zoe Benson *nothing here yet

(Character x Character or Character x Reader x Character)

Brooke Thompson x Montana Duke *nothing here yet

Cordelia Goode x Wilhemina Venable *nothing here yet

Elizabeth March x James March *nothing here yet

James March x Kai Anderson *nothing here yet

Madison Montgomery x Zoe Benson *nothing here yet

Montana Duke x Xavier Plympton *nothing here yet

Zoe Benson x Mallory *nothing here yet

[wroteclassicaly]

Below, you will find my complete American Horror Story masterlist! It includes prompts, drabbles, series, one-shots, concepts, headcanons, and MORE! For the fics of Cody Fern’s AHS characters, I will give an individual link below!

* Copyright @wroteclassicaly - Do NOT redistribute, post to another platform, translate, or plagiarize my work (this includes AI) — under any circumstances! Reblogs, comments/feedback are ALWAYS appreciated! *

My library blog

Main Masterlist

Characters I write for in this fandom: Michael Langdon, Xavier Plympton, Thomas Browne, Tate Langdon Stan Vogel, Valiant Thor, Jimmy Darling, Kit Walker, James Patrick March, Zoe Benson, Madison Montgomery, Austin Sommers, Harry Gardner & Montana Duke.

Ships I write for: Harry/Austin & x Reader with any character (or ship) that I have listed above!

Key:

❤️‍🔥 = smut

💔 = angst, depression, & anger

💝 = fluff & comfort

Series titles are in bold red

Appropriate warnings and tags will ALWAYS be added!

Michael Langdon Masterlist

Xavier Plympton, Valiant Thor, Stan Vogel & Thomas Browne Masterlist

Being Madison Montgomery’s GF - (Headcanon)

Mallory x Fem!Reader - (Headcanon)

[coopermorrow]

Who I Write For

Hi! My name is Cooper and I am hoping to be a writer one day so I thought what better way of starting off than by writing about my favorite celebrities and characters? I am in many fandoms but not all, so if you don't happen to see one of your favorite celebrities or characters on my list you can still ask me to write about them and I'll do my best!

American Horror Story:

Tate Langdon

Violet Harmon

Nora Montgomery

Lana Winters

Kit Walker

Sister Mary Eunice McKee

Queenie

Madison Montgomery

Zoe Benson

Cordelia Goode

Misty Day

Kyle Spencer (pre and post death)

Dandy Mott

Tristan Duffy

James Patrick March

Elizabeth/The Countess

Kai Anderson

Winter Anderson

Michael Langdon

Mallory

Brooke Thompson

Xavier Plympton

Montana Duke

Harry Gardner

Slashers/Horror Characters:

Michael Myers

Jason Voorhees

Billy Loomis

Stu Macher

Bubba Sawyer

Vincent Sinclair

Bo Sinclair

Lester Sinclair

Tiffany Valentine

Baby Firefly

Doomhead

Brahms Heelshire

Darry Jenner (Jeepers Creepers)

Norman Bates (Bates Motel)

Hannibal Lecter (Hannibal)

Art the Clown

BTS:

Kim Seokjin

Min Yoongi

Jung Hoseok

Kim Namjoon

Park Jimin

Kim Taehyung

Jeon Jungkook

Jackass:

Johnny Knoxville

Steve-O

Ryan Dunn

Bam Margera

Chris Pontius

Rachel Wolfson

Marvel/Avengers Characters:

Loki Laufeyson

Thor Odinson

Tony Stark

Peter Parker

Natasha Romanoff

Steve Rogers

Sam Wilson

James "Bucky" Barnes

Bruce Banner

Wanda Maximoff

IT (2017 and 2019):

Richie Tozier

Bill Denbrough

Eddie Kaspbrak

Mike Hanlon

Stanley Uris

Ben Hanscom

Beverly Marsh

Patrick Hockstetter

Henry Bowers

Reginald "Belch" Huggins

Victor Criss

What's Eating Gilbert Grape:

Gilbert Grape

Arnie Grape

Harry Potter:

Harry Potter

Ronald Weasley

Hermione Granger

Luna Lovegood

Fred Weasley

George Weasley

Draco Malfoy

It's Always Sunny In Philadeplphia:

Charlie Kelly

Dennis Reynolds

Deandra "Dee" Reynolds

Ronald "Mac" McDonald

The Last Of Us (show):

Joel Miller

Ellie Williams

Wednesday:

Wednesday Addams

Morticia Addams

Xavier Thorpe

Miscellaneous:

Javier Pena

Kevin Khatchadourian

Jay (Jay and Silent bob)

Jareth the Goblin King (The Labyrinth)

Mort Rainey

Victor Van Dort

Tarrant Hightopp/The Mad Hatter (Alice In Wonderland)

Edward Scissorhands

I will not write rape, 18+ content for underage characters, or anything where the character is another species. I will not take requests containing pedophilia, ablism, racism, homophobia, transphobia, sexism, or any other form of bigotry. Comfort imagines for things such as depression, eating disorders, and anxiety are fine as long as you do not want them to be very descriptive and/or explicit. Please make formal requests through my ask as I will not take comments as formal requests. I write for multiple genders but only smut for afab people as that is the anatomy I am most understanding of. I do take "x reader" requests. I can try to write crossovers, though I'm not too experienced with them and I do write for celebrities as well.

Requests are open now so if you do decide to make one, please include the character(s) you want and at least a small description of what you would like the plot to be. Thank you! <3

[rose-and-thorn-fanfics]

number 76 for the fic writer asks in regards to Mary Prays The Rosary For My Broken Mind (AHS APOCALYPSE)

76. Did you have any ideas that didn’t make the final cut of “Mary Prays The Rosary For My Broken Mind” Michael Langdon x Fem! OC?

Ok, so I was initially going to make Prim friends with Mallory instead of Emily, for more conflict later on in the story when the witches arrive (which I haven’t written that part yet). But I decided to go with Emily because it was easier for her to interact with Emily than a Grey like Mallory. I also considered Michael killing Primrose after they have sex. But I think he likes her (in a manipulative kind of possessive way) enough now that she isn’t innocent and she submits to him. Also it would be more interesting to have her live long enough for the witches to come and challenge Michael. Like it gives opportunities for the witches to see Primrose as a “poor victim with magic potential as a witch” and try and destroy Michael and save her only for them to find out she’s loyal to him).

[maxx205]

honestly im dying to know what happened to this deleted scene and why they deleted it. Its consuming me and they looks soo good omllll aaaaaaaaA—

[angelicmichael]

hoax - chapter two

Michael Langdon x Mallory

Summary: Mallory tries her best to put her feelings aside and to tolerate Michael; however she finds that she gets tested in other ways that aren’t so easily predictable..

Words: 6.3k+

Warnings: more death and general mentions of it.. sorry lmao, angst, blood, manipulation, unhealthy relationships, mentions of satan and satanism, slowburn, plot heavy, enemies to lovers, also reminder that this is a dark fic so.. it’s just generally not that happy of a story lol

A/N: Hey guys! Sorry if this seems random since we just got new cody content and a new character but I thought I would just upload this anyway since it’s finished 👉🏻👈🏻. But this is also the longest thing I’ve ever written.. like ever so hopefully y’all like it haha. Also fyi; Michaels and Mallorys POV switches quite a bit throughout this chapter lol.

Previous Chapter

Michael watched Mallory intently. Looking as she continued to be lost in thought. Her gaze fixated downwards at her black boots, which twitched slightly as she continued to most likely debate whether he was worth it or not… to say yes or no..

Michael swallowed, wishing he could do something to make her say yes, to maybe offer something but after all; he had absolutely nothing. Even Michael by himself seemed to be too much of a burden on its own, to Mallory.

He let out a dry cough; hoping to bring her back to reality, back to him.

Mallory’s head snapped up - brown eyes looking up at him curiously.. as if she really did forget that he was still waiting for a response or some type of agreement. She tried her best to relax her shoulders as well as her mind before speaking. Trying to silently convince herself to not snap at him, no matter how much she still truly wanted too. However, looking at him made that far more easier..

Michaels words; the pleading and begging that Mallory was almost convinced would never stop.. The pure desperation and urgency only really reflected onto his appearance. Sandy blonde hair that nearly looked brown due to the disgusting amount of dirt in it.. clothes that were still horribly stained and nearly doused with blood made him look hardly short of intimidating anymore, but the urge to yell at him still didn’t wane.

Anger still stayed present in Mallory’s chest, but it was starting to become something she couldn’t just ignore anymore.. it flowed through her veins, hot and fresh. It made her skin warm and her cheeks flush cherry red. Something she was typically insecure about but she really didn’t have the time or patience to try and hide it.. she doubted Michael realistically was even paying close enough attention to notice anyways.

“Fine,” Mallory finally answered. Her voice was soft and low which was merely a result of her biting her anger back - something she still desperately wanted to show but knew realistically would get her no where with him.

She tried her best to avoid Michaels gaze which still stayed solely focused on her figure. He seemed almost taken aback by her words, as if he was expecting to be further yelled at.. which wasn’t exactly a wrong assumption. The only reason Mallory found it in her to be nice was merely sympathy. After all they both had a long day - it wasn’t just her discomfort she had to take into consideration anymore.

“Do you trust me?”

The words almost felt impulsive to say but she didn’t regret saying them - after all; if they were really going to be sticking around by each other for a while then.. it was a valid question.

Mallory knew realistically what he was going to say and she tried to brace herself as she saw his mouth open hesitantly.

“I feel like I should.. why?” He asked in a tone which sounded purely dismissive and a bit annoyed.

Mallory wanted to smile, she wanted to grin and laugh that she was finally starting to get what she wanted but.. she did neither of those things. Instead she found herself immeadietly distrusting him.. wanting to know why on earth she would ever think to trust his words for a second when she literally killed him in the past.. and that’s not counting the other times where she attempted to do so or even thought doing it but; this Michael didn’t know that. This Michael barely even knew her name, let alone anything else about her but that didn’t matter to him - and she couldn’t help but to be a bit relieved at that feeling of finally being able to be free from her past.

Atleast for the time being.

“I need to go somewhere but I can’t go alone.. I think it would be good if you went too.”

Michaels brows furrowed at this; his face almost upturning in a sneer. “Where?”

Mallory took in a deep breath but didn’t exhale at first.. feeling irritated that he just had to keep asking questions that she didn’t have the answer too.

“I’ll tell you later, when we get closer, okay? But we need to go before the sun sets,” she explained.

Mallory hoped desperately that what she said would be enough reason for Michael to go along with her.. but thankfully it seemed to be. Or he seemed convinced for the most part, anyway.

“What happens before the sun sets?” He asked.

His blue eyes glared into hers - as if he was trying to get a read on her.. just like how he used too at the outpost.

Mallory’s throat suddenly grew dry at this realization.. Feeling incredibly uncomfortable at how he looked at her, and his question. Not necessarily knowing what to do about either situations but - she hoped for a second he would retract his words or rephrase but he didn’t.

He still waited.

“That doesn’t matter, we just need to get going. You said you trusted me right?” Mallory reaffirmed.

Her face was mostly expressionless as she watched Michael solemnly nod in response.

“Yeah.. sure. I trust you.”

His sentence cut off almost abruptly; as if he wanted to keep talking but knew that Mallory wouldn’t have the patience to hear him out - or that she simply didn’t want too.

Michael couldn’t really pinpoint exactly how he felt around Mallory. Every time she met his gaze he couldn’t help but to be overtaken briefly by far too many emotions than he could count. It mainly was a fight over feeling intimidated and being in awe. Even though Mallory hadn’t really let her powers show since she basically assaulted him earlier; he knew to keep his distance now.. to a degree.

He approached her now; feeling a little less intimated than he was before since she seemed to be acting civil.

Michael couldn’t help but to blame her behavior on himself; maybe he was too straight forward.. maybe it was him who was the true freak in this situation.. It wouldn’t exactly be the first time that he found himself in a situation like this, another situation that was surely his fault.

God.. why was he such a fuck up??

The closer he approached.. Mallory.. she said her name was right?? He felt almost sick to his stomach when he saw the look in her eyes when she finally bothered to look up at him. Her eyes (which he remembered were a golden honey brown when she stood directly in the sun) were nearly black now.. maybe it was the fact that the sun was finally dipping behind the trees.. or.. something else? Annoyance was really the only emotion he could read from her at the moment - the rest of her face was even harder to read. He guessed she was trying to remain expressionless on purpose.

Mallory was the first one to start walking - and Michael let her lead. She seemed to have a some kind of idea on where she was going since she had claimed she said a destination in mind, or somewhere for them to go.

Hopefully that wasn’t a lie.

Mallory didn’t look back once as Michael continued to walk directly behind her once the path she had chosen to walk on had thinned down to a trail. The sound of his footsteps were good enough proof that he hadn’t wandered off or turned around. She didn’t want to necessarily look at him longer than what she had too - she was more than certain that he still wore that kicked puppy look he had earlier. It was pathetic and painful.. and only a sharp reminder of why things currently were the way they were. Why she was here; still in the forest with twigs and leaves snapping onto her overly expensive dress which now had to be ruined.. (as if it wasn’t already from Michaels death fiasco’s) and not back at Robichaux.. with the witches where she belonged. Even if none of them necessarily knew her anymore.

Mallory belonged with other witches, her sisters. People that actually understood her and gave a fuck - not.. whatever she could even call Michael now. Who was not quite human but probably not the antichrist now, either.

That was just something else that Mallory would have to do and figure out on her own but, this wasn’t something that was meant to be done solo - she knew that deep down.

Michael was following her diligently and actually listening now for a reason, she came to the forest for a reason, and as much as she tried her best to avoid thinking about it; she also talked to satan for a reason.. And even though he was mostly a manipulative asshole- no.. not mostly. That’s exactly what he was. Michael was also proof of that.

No matter what, her and Michael would figure it out together.. on their own or certaintly without the help of him. They didn’t need him, not again.. not now.. not ever. It didn’t matter if he apparently owned her soul or not - she still felt the same.. nothing could’ve changed that quickly. Right?

That’s what she would tell herself anyway - and there’s no way she would ever dream of telling Michael any of that shit ever happened. It’s not like he would remember anyway.

Mallory continued to keep her head down as they kept walking .. deep in thought and trying to focus on just finding their way out until she felt something soft brush up against the back of her arm..

Mallory immeadietly paused when she felt Michael touch her, looking at her arm almost awkwardly and bearing witness to how Michael was now gently gripping her.. Hoping naively that it was something that happened accidentally but of course it wasn’t. Nothing happened by coincidence with Michael.

He let go after a couple seconds of awkward eye contact.. most likely realizing that she wasn’t exactly a touchy person. Not with him anyway. Not after the kind of day they’ve been through.

“I just wanted to say that I’m sorry,” Michael said sorely.

His voice shook when he spoke.. and even though it was tempting to ask exactly why he was apologizing - she figured it didn’t necessarily matter. At this point it was the effort and the fact he even cared enough to say anything, that made her feel a bit better.

She gave a slight smile, not really wanting to say that any of this was ‘okay’ or that it was ‘fine’ because she was truly tired of lying.. it was something she lost the energy for a while ago.

“Let’s keep going. I think we’re almost there.”

Mallory turned around to keep walking - looking up and realizing that she could finally see something beyond the tree line.. something that looked like vaguely like a skyline of a city.. Was that Los Angeles??

Biting the bullet and choosing to make small talk had its perks - Michael affirmed her suspicion that they were in L.A which was really neither a good or bad thing. She definitely felt more unsettled now that she knew for a fact she was farther away from home than she would like to be.. and also scarily close to Hawthorne, and god knows what else.

It didn’t take long for the two of them to reach the city; and now that she was here.. she really didn’t know what to do next or why she had the odd instinct to walk here in the first place, but thankfully Michael seemed to know.

It was obvious that Mallory didn’t exactly have a plan, in the way that she was starting to physically stall.. her steps slowed, her fingers fidgeted a bit more and picked at her clothes, and her gaze kept falling down to her shoes.. All little, minuscule things but Michael picked up on them all.

He didn’t bother to ask outloud if she knew where she was going. Instead he took the lead.. walking in front of Mallory suddenly and only briefly pausing to turn into a dark alleyway. Something that seemed entirely random but honestly wasn’t. He had a feeling, an urge that they were meant to go this way.. something was waiting for them both.

Michael only looked back to make eye contact for a brief moment; hoping that just for once Mallory would trust him.. but as he looked back into her dark brown eyes which still abnormally almost appeared black - she was still reluctant. He wasn’t necessarily thinking when he reached out to grab her hand. Something he knew that she would hate but he couldn’t help it. Physical touch felt nice, and her hands were soft..

They still were.

He still held onto her hand as he gently pulled and tried to lead her into where he was going - frowning slightly when he felt her grip loosen but he continued to keep walking into the alleyway. He kept going, nearly stumbling on the garbage and various shit that was left on the ground.. but he managed to find a door that was left slightly ajar.. just enough for him and Mallory to slip through.

Michael quietly opened the door further; the room that they suddenly found themselves in was barely lit. A dark, dim, red light was omitted along with several small candles but other than that, the room was kept blanketed in a thick darkness. Both physically and emotionally.

As soon as Mallory entered what she now knew had to be some kind of church.. she felt almost as if she had been punched in the stomach. She noticibly winced, physically withdrawing from Michael and reflexively pulling her hand back even further than she had previously but he wouldn’t let her hand go. Not completely.

The nausea and just the sudden heavy energy she felt made the rest of her body tense up.. and she found herself sort of being thankful that Michael still held onto her and seemed to be leading her to a seat.. but the gratitude she felt only lasted for barely a second. Just until she could actually take a deep breath and focus..

Where exactly were they?

It was clear as day that they happened to be in a church.. but no.

No.

Something was wrong. Something wasn’t right.

This wasn’t a normal church, nothing about this seemed normal in the slightest - the dark red interior and dim lighting, the candles, the late timing of the service and just.. what everyone happened to be wearing seemed horribly wrong.

Just like earlier, and so many times before today she felt herself starting to submit to panic. Her breath quickening and her skin started to grow incredibly hot.. she felt as if she was suffocating from the inside out but she felt foolish for feeling this way as she looked at Michael, as well as everyone else.. they all appeared nonchalant and completely unbothered. Particularly Michael, who didn’t look upset but instead almost caught in a trance listening to the high priestess of the church talk.

Mallory didn’t even notice the woman was talking until she finally bothered to make eye contact. Whom of which walked straight down the isle way that divided the two rows of benches apart; her blonde curls slightly moving as she spoke and moved. She continued to slowly pace up and down, speaking about.. exactly what Mallory had feared.

Fucking exactly what Mallory was trying to avoid.

The immeadite gut reaction to stand up and leave was nearly impossible to resist; and that would be incredibly easy to do given that they were sitting in a otherwise empty back row. But.. instead she didn’t move. She sat still. Barely moving, barely breathing but merely watching and listening.

Now that Mallory actually bothered to listen; she felt completely dumbfounded that Michael was actually buying any of this shit. However, that didn’t make the words that she heard coming from the blonde woman, the leader, any easier to digest. Currently she was boasting and bragging about her sins and how ‘evil’ she was.. or something along those lines. It was still nearly impossible to focus with the feeling that still layed dormant in her gut that refused to leave.

She winced at the words she heard being spoken. Her black nails curling into the soft skin of her palm and gently digging in. Something she consciously chose to do to try to distract herself but it still wasn’t enough. She needed to know that they were atleast sort of safe here.. or that Michael had a vague idea of what he was doing.

“do you know where we are?”

Michael turned to look at Mallory slowly.. looking almost furious - his lips slightly parted as if he silently debated on how to tell her off for interrupting his focus. She waited with baited breath for him to ignore her or to say some snide remark.. only exhaling when he did neither.

“Yeah, don’t worry. We’re in good hands here,” He said. Barely speaking loud enough for Mallory to even hear.

She couldn’t help but to slightly pout, not wanting to argue anymore but not really trusting his judgement yet either. She waited for him to turn his head back to blonde ‘cult’ leader but instead it dropped down her to palm where her nails still cut in.. pressing down until the point where blood was about to be drawn.

Mallory didn’t wince or show any signs of discomfort but Michael still noticed anyway. His gaze quickly flickering down from her palm up to her eyes in pure confusion in what the fuck she was doing..

His hand quickly went to hers without a second thought.

His fingers gently pried hers off of her own hand.. She didn’t try to fight what he was doing but rather looked into his eyes in a questionable manner.. probably wondering why he bothered to touch her again. Something that he truly knew better than to do but couldn’t help from himself from.

“Stop.. Why are you doing that?” Michael asked genuinely. His gaze lingered on her fingertips which now had blood lightly indented on the tips of her nails.

Mallory looked at him awkwardly. Sort of appalled that he even cared enough to notice or to even stop her.. his kindness wasn’t necessarily unwanted but it was something new.. and strange to say the very least.

Mallory wanted to apologize or to just give him a reassuring look but instead she carefully met his gaze and found herself muttering a careful confession, “im sorry I just.. I can’t stand it here. This place-“ her voice broke horribly as she whispered.

She suddenly grew paranoid that the members of this.. ‘congregation’ could hear her sudden disdain for the establishment; which made the feelings of dread and guilt she felt only multiply. She wanted to keep apologizing or to convince Michael to leave but.. that wouldn’t work for the sole reason that she couldn’t even pinpoint exactly why she felt this way. But all she knew is that she had to say something else. Something to make Michael not stare her like how he currently was.

Mallory was still terrified to make eye contact with him. Only bothering to briefly do so to simply affirm that he was actually looking at her - and it wasn’t something she was imagining.

Reality was starting to become something Mallory nearly craved; the day still wasn’t over and yet the fact that some of the earlier events weren’t real.. was something she still needed to process.

The fact that Michael even dared to follow her here, sit next to her, and let alone even give a fuck that she was unintentionally harming herself was beyond her. She wanted to know why, but she knew she still wouldn’t trust his answer if she were to ask. He’d lie.

Mallory spoke again in a tone that was far more quiet than the last, “Where are we?”

Michaels gaze bore into hers.. his face nearly void of any expression as if he was weighing his options on the best response.. calculating and thinking but he stopped the eye contact before he spoke. His eyes went to examine his hands instead which were loosely clasped together over his knees that he slouched tiredly over.

“Somewhere I thought I could feel close to my father.. I know- you don’t want to talk about it-“

“No.. it’s fine,” Mallory reassured hurriedly. Her voice was light and high pitched - happy that Michael was finally managing to communicate and be honest with her. Even if he was inherently right, this wasn’t a topic she wanted to remember or discuss at all but if this was how she got him to open up.. then there was no other option.

“Before you ask.. no. It’s not working. I don’t feel shit here,” he admitted, his voice breaking. “All I feel is just fucking overwhelmed.”

His hands were brought up to his face and Mallory watched him deeply inhale. His finger tips rubbed his temples and fell down the sides of his cheeks - and Mallory didn’t know what to do.

Should she offer him sympathy that.. as bad as it sounded, that she didn’t necessarily really feel? Sure she could relate to him but it wasn’t in the same way in the slightest - and it wasn’t fair to either of them to pretend that it was.

“People here are beyond pathetic.. their sins,” he sneered with something that almost could’ve been considered an chuckle that followed.

Michaels hands fell down to his lap again - suddenly refusing to meet Mallory’s gaze. Perfectly intent on watching whoever the high priestess was, someone that Mallory was more than thankful that she didn’t know the name of.

“Michael.. I can’t stay here-“

He gave Mallory an apologetic look, and for a second she thought he might almost finally agree but to no avail.

“Please. Just ‘till the end,” His face reverted back to the kicked puppy look. The one that finally made her not necessarily forgive him but.. made her realize that at this point he didn’t necessarily deserve to be yelled at.

After all, he wasn’t exactly the same Michael that had planned the death of seven billion people.. not yet.

“Okay,” she quietly agreed.

So they waited until the end of the ‘ceremony’. Or Mallory waited while Michael watched and listened- looking both completely horrified and elated as he did so.. However, Mallory waited and counted each minute that passed.. every one seemingly longer the last.

Even when the blonde woman that was apparently named ‘Hannah’ finally finished talking and most members of the congregation had left; Michael still didn’t budge.

His back, instead of slouching was now pressed up against the bench as he sat.. looking for exhausted and more tired than ever. Tears (or what Mallory suspected were tears anyway) made his cheeks glisten in the dim lighting. She stared at him for a moment - wondering if she should ask if he was okay or if he needed a moment when she felt someone suddenly tug sharply on her clothing.

It was her top, a quick pinch but it was enough to make Mallory’s head turn back immeadietly.

Her resentment toward touch wasn’t just exclusive to Michael, then.

“What is this? Chanel? Loui V? Do I want to know what it took for you to take this?” Hannah spoke in a amused tone.

Hannah stood behind their bench, both equally between Mallory and Michael - like she had the intention of speaking to them both and not one or the other.

“I didn’t take this.. it was a gift,” Mallory answered truthfully and a bit.. bashfully.

She felt insulted that Hannah assumed she would ever steal but then again, with where they were, maybe that wasn’t exactly the insult that Mallory thought it was.

“Yeah.. okay. Like I’m supposed to believe that,” Hannah laughed with a snort.

Mallory was about to retort anyway, but Michael cut her off to her surprise.

“What do you want?” He asked curtly.

His words were cut short. Obviously irritated and put on edge - the fact that he still had tears left on his cheeks explained his behavior plenty.

Hannah immeadietly looked taken aback - disobedience wasn’t something she was used too.

“What do you I want? Do you even know who you’re talking too?” Hannah answered without missing a beat.

Mallory’s eyes darted to Michael. His jaw was clenched, his eyes sharp and focused and his mouth was drawn in a straight line that slightly curved downward.. he looked pissed.

Why was he bothering to argue with Hannah? Someone who he should inherently love or atleast respect with the shared connection of their love for his father.. And over something as trivial as Mallory’s dress? This wasn’t making sense..

“I think I could say the same to you,” Michael answered with a clenched jaw, standing up as his hands started to go to the left side of his face. Inevitably headed for his ‘666’ mark that Mallory heard he was rumored to have.. but certainly wouldn’t have anymore. Not after what she had done.

Michael.. couldn’t. He wouldn’t. This couldn’t happen.

It was clear he was still under the false impression that he had powers, but Mallory wasn’t going to let him find out otherwise this way. Not right now.

“Michael-“! Mallory said urgently.

It worked for a second, just long enough to make him stall.

His hands came to a stand still, pausing as his eyes watched her. Waiting for her to continue but her mouth went entirely dry once she saw Hannah’s hand quickly fly to his shoulders. Screaming words that Mallory didn’t even try to listen too - blood suddenly roaring through her ears louder than any sound that Hannah could make.

Mallory didn’t think when she suddenly felt herself stepping in front of Michael; her feet accidentally stepping onto his as she tried her best to push him back beforehand with her arm but even so - the space in between benches was minimal enough as it was.

Maybe under normal circumstances, Michaels body being pushed up directly behind hers would’ve been distracting but.. Michael was really the last thing she was thinking of now.

Mallory’s hands flew to Hannah’s shoulders - grabbing them (and feeling almost sick with herself how she had done this to Michael not too long ago) with the intention to push her back as hard as she could naturally muster up the strength too. But, of course, that didn’t happen.

Her powers came flooding out unwillingly - the sudden loss of control and ache that was rapidly being released caused her to scream.. something that almost sounded quiet with the contrast of her adrenaline still pumping full force.

Hannahs clothes suddenly sparking a bright orange didn’t cause the immeadite alarm to Mallory that it should’ve; however.. maybe it was due to the fact that the color already blended in with the red atmosphere of the church.. She could only hope.

Hannah’s clothes quickly erupted in flames - the close proximity of the fire made Mallory’s skin quickly grow uncomfortably hot. Forcing her to act on impulse. Selfish impulse.

She stumbled out from the bench and grabbed Michaels wrist clumsily, nearly dragging with him with her as they both stumbling back and away from her.

Mallory’s back was turned to Hannah.. her body shook as she hauntingly realized that the sound had stopped. Hannah wasn’t screaming anymore.. and neither was Mallory.

She couldn’t bring herself to turn around and look, only braving enough strength to look up at Michael who faced the general direction that Hannah was in.. or used to be in. She stared into his eyes and watched the reflection of the fire dance in them - not in wonder but rather pure dread and regret.

Fuck.. what the fuck?

Michaels expression was something she couldn’t really decipher.. the fact he wore a neutral face when she just.. had done something like this wasn’t going to be something she found solace in.

After all; he was still Michael Langdon.

And what she just did.. saying it was stupid wasn’t simply enough.

Forming more complex thoughts was simply impossible, she found herself stumbling away.. going the opposite direction as the room started to spin and melt into a blur of red and black. The ceiling, walls and floor quickly became indistinguishable - her legs were starting to feel weak..

Fuck!

Mallory’s vision flickered to black and her legs gave out from underneath her; but she felt someone’s arms hook underneath hers and pull her up before she could hit the floor.

Her eyes snapped open immeadietly - trying to balance herself back on her feet as quickly as she could so that Michael wouldn’t have to touch her.. still feeling entirely out of it from nearly losing consciousness.

Mallory knew immeadietly it was him without even having to look… and she hated that she was becoming familiar enough with his touch to even recognize that it was him so easily. The tempature of his skin - his palms gripping her upper arms a bit too tightly - was a dead giveaway.

She wanted him off.

Mallory stumbled forward, trying her best to appear nonchalant as she brushed his fingertips off of her arms. Trying not to look bothered by the smell that started to raid the church.. a mix of burnt flesh along with just general fire. She wanted to feel bad but if this really was a satanic temple; it probably had seen worse..

But that wasn’t the point.

Mallory’s gaze searched the walls, wanting to leave but not.. actually leave.

It was too much; she needed time alone. Time to maybe cry or to throw up until she couldn’t breath.. perhaps both, but she still didn’t want Michael to see her vulnerable. Not if she could help it.

Her hands gripped onto the sides of the benches as she passed them; stubbornly intent on walking on to the bathroom which she could now see - selfishly not giving a fuck that she would be leaving Michael but.. she deserved to be selfish for once.

After all, all her choices recently hadn’t been for her own sake.. it was for Cordelias, Madison’s, Zoe’s, The Coven, seven billion people, Michael.. but not her own. Never her own.. none of her choices were really her own lately.

Mallory tried her best to ignore the sound of footsteps following her. Pushing the door of the women’s bathroom open quickly but stopping once she heard Michael whine.

God, why was he always fucking whining?

“What the fuck was that?” He nearly hissed. His tone had no malicious intent but it still set Mallory on edge.

He looked alarmed, bewildered. Blue eyes widened and his lips slightly parted, his teeth clenched.

“What part?” She asked cynically with a dry laugh.

She met Michaels gaze for a second before fully slipping inside the bathroom - hoping Michael would get the memo to leave her alone but she paused once she didn’t hear the door shut behind her..

“Michael-“

“I know you don’t like talking to me but I’m asking you, just once. What the fuck just happened?? Did you-?” His voice quivered, breaking softly as he spoke.

Mallory was in tears, the thought and realization alone of what she did finally sinking in.

“No. No.. I-I didn’t.. that wasn’t me, okay? I would.. would never..” She spoke as a confirmation to both Michael and herself.

Her back was still turned to Michael - thankful that he couldn’t see how fucking close she was to full on sobbing.. her vision blurred by all of the tears that had gathered in her eyes that wouldn’t spill. Her throat clenched, growing tight and forcing her to stop breathing - but there was no way she was going to let herself cry in front of Michael out of all people.

Showing weakness, even now.. even when it was proven he was no longer a threat to her, was never something she would let herself do. She wouldn’t let herself become that stupid.

Pain centered itself in her chest, but the grief she felt, rapidly spread throughout her body. Consuming her until she felt herself succumbing to the feeling.

Fuck.

Mallory wanted to push past Michael and run out the door.

Mallory wanted to scream at him and tell him to get the fuck out of the women’s restroom.

It was so easy to blame him for everything she felt - but she knew better than that now. Even though it was easy; it wasn’t the right thing to do.. and it’s not really like she was used to take the easy route to things, anyway.

She didn’t exactly welcome the feeling but she gave up trying to fight it.. letting the first tear run down her cheek. She still tried her best to stifle her sobs, her throat still clenching almost painfully.. not really giving a fuck about showing weakness in this moment but more so just.. embarrassed.

Michael stared at her almost blankly - wanting to say something but he couldn’t help but to feel stuck.

He wanted to feel bad, and he did.. she was clearly hurt but he didn’t understand exactly how.. Did she feel remorse for what she did? Did she think that Hannah or whatever the fuck her name was, didn’t deserve it?

Sure he didn’t exactly know her intentions but it wasn’t anything pure.. and Mallory needed to know that.

He approached her carefully, knowing damn well that she had the capability to do the same that she had done to Hannah.. or to perhaps throw him up against the wall without even so much as laying a hand on him, but he wasn’t scared.

Mallory wasn’t intimidating.. she wouldn’t hurt him.

Her head was tilted up and her eyes watched the ceiling - avoiding eye contact. She slowly moved to the wall, leaning against it begrudgingly but still avoiding Michaels gaze. Patches of dirt and bruises decorated her arms along with some blood stains and a couple of nasty cuts. Her black dress looked like nothing special anymore. It was torn in some parts but - Michael wanted to laugh that he was critiquing her appearance in the slightest as if he had any room to talk.

He watched her carefully and curiously as he decided to stand next to her and mirror how she was standing until they were nearly shoulder to shoulder. Mallorys eyes which were previously closed suddenly opened. Darkly peering over at him and their sudden proximity, something Michael wasn’t going to apologize for this time.

“I still don’t understand you, or why you did what you did but it was completely unnecessary,” Michael said.

He felt flattered that Mallory was fond of him enough to apparently kill for him but - this wasn’t adding up. And plus, Michael still had his powers (or atleast to the best of his knowledge he did) so it’s not as if he was completely defenseless. He felt almost insulted that Mallory would assume that he needed to be protected. He wasn’t a child.

But didn’t she hate him? She could still barely make eye contact with him and resented every time they touched - something which hurt Michael a bit more than he would like to admit.. No one (except for his family, of course) had ever reacted to him like that before.. most people, espically women, practically died for his touch.

Mallory was different.

That was one thing he was certain of. Every move she made, every word that came out of her mouth was never something he could predict.. and to think he once hated unpredictability.. but he didn’t trust her. Not for one second.

“It wasn’t a choice. I-I just.. it just happened and I don’t want to talk about it,” Mallory answered sheepishly.

Michael wanted to argue but instead he merely nodded.

“That’s fine.”

Mallory looked at him almost apologetically after she heard the tone of his words; which were a bit too harsh and forced in nature.

“So.. did it work? What you came here for.. to feel closer to him-“ She asked out of sheer curiosity.

“My father?”

“Yes.”

Michael swallowed and broke eye contact. “No. I still don’t feel a fucking thing.. Do you?”

Mallory’s eyes narrowed and she shifted her weight back onto her feet, ceasing from leaning on the wall. “What?”

“My father sent you to me, so I figured naturally you would have some kind of connection with him.. you do, don’t you?”

Sneaky bastard. Mallory knew this conversation was for the sole purpose of him finding out more information about her; perhaps to better manipulate? She didn’t exactly know.

“I don’t know. That’s something I still have to figure out,” she admitted truthfully.

“Together?”

Mallory nodded.

“Yeah. I won’t leave you,” she said. Her tone a bit softer than she would have liked.

Mallorys lips started to upturn in something that was reminiscent of a smile - their eyes lingered on each other for only a second but it didn’t last.

The door suddenly was pushed open; both Mallory and Michael snapped their heads up. The sudden intrusion gaining both of their full undivided attention - fear both running abundant in their veins.

The first thing Mallory noticed was the loud clicking of high heels against the tile floor of the bathroom.. something she was sure meant nothing to Michael but.. Mallory knew better.

This wasn’t a coincidence. After the day she had - nothing was a damn coincidence anymore.

The first thing she noticed was long blonde hair.. a black, tight fitting dress along with black high heels.

It was too familiar.. she knew all too well exactly who this fucking was.

Another witch.. her sister.. someone she was far too accustomed too but also.. no.

No.

Sure the woman who just entered the bathroom was Madison Montgomery but it wasn’t her Madison. After all, why the fuck was Madison at a satanic temple?

Taglist: @michaellangdonstanaccount @langdonsexual @jimmason @blakescoven @dark-mei-rose @9layerdevilfoodcake @prophecy-is-inevitable @matildaofoz @beautyiswithinchaos @frenchlangdon @instinctsxbaby @melodylangdon @littledemondani @celestialrequiem @sojournmichael @ritualmichael @twilightzone24

Let me know if u would like to be added or removed to the taglist <3

[crown-ov-horns]

An endless list of favourite ships: Michael Langdon x Mallory (American Horror Story: Apocalypse)

[empatheticvirtue]

Starter for @shadesofimpulse

@shadesofimpulse

(I don’t know if I did this right haha HELP. I’m trying to get active again and meet friends and reconnect with friends too.)​

Coco had awoken Mallory four hours earlier than she was supposed to, shaking her arm, startling her. No one else was awake that she knew of.

"I’m parched Mallory! It’s so cold out in the hallways. Get me a water! Hurry, wake up!!" Coco insisted urgently.

Mallory felt like she had not slept at all after that disastrous interview with Michael. She had tossed and turned the entire night, fighting with herself within as if something was trying to drive its way out from deep within her. She had a strange dream. There had been a thick fog that had practically choked her feeling a chilling darkness. But she had ventured towards the center finding a crying little boy. There was a voice warning her to stay away, that he will kill her but she embraced him, protecting him until she was pulled away. She sat up quickly gasping for air, her blankets now thrown on the floor as she shivered in her long white Victorian nightgown getting up reluctantly out of her warm bed.

"Am I going crazy?" She said to herself as she looked into the mirror in the bathroom, splashing cool water upon pale features before grabbing a robe to make way out into the chilled hallways of the Outpost. She wasn’t sure what was real. Or if what had happened the night before during the interview with Michael had all been a bad dream. She just knew Michael wouldn’t choose her for the sanctuary after that train wreck of an interview.

She couldn’t shake a familiar feeling, of deja vu, when Michael had spoken with her right before the chaos instilled then. As soon as he had brushed his long ringed fingers along her delicate jawline, it was as if something inside of her was trying to tell her that she wasn’t who everyone thought she was. But she was frightened. Unbeknown to her, the fear was just a way the identity spell worked to repress her memories. She was afraid of who she was deep inside. The manifestation of power coming from her only made her more frightened of who she was or could be. She remembered the look of shock on Michael’s face. What if she had hurt him? She didn’t want to harm anyone. How could someone so small and meek like her hold so much power? And how could something like that even exist? It was something she had only seen in comic movies.

But there was something else that bothered her. She could feel his confusion and intrigue at the same time ever since she had felt the stroke of his fingers upon her flesh. Mallory had always been one to care about others, even that bitch Coco, but this was an entirely different experience. It was as if she could feel what he was feeling when he had contact with her directly. And at first, it had chilled her to the core. But there was something else deeper, something that had saddened her. It was like a vice upon her heart and thinking about it now, she felt sympathy for him wanting to know why she felt these things and why he would feel that way.

She must have imagined all of this! Was she going crazy? She could swear this place did something to her. All she had felt ever since she had arrived was an impeding melancholy that saturated the walls and halls of the outpost. She felt as grey inside as her clothing.

And now she felt she would be one of the ones left behind, to die of starvation or be eaten by the cannibals. Already she was hungry all of the time ever since Venable had cut their food portions to once a day. Mallory didn’t want to die, but who would want a lowly grey anyway to help in the creation of this new world that Michael had described to her in the interview? She was never be tenacious, or the type that would burn down the Tree of Knowledge, using it for firewood like he had stated. She was meek and mild, kind, and had tried to not be noticed. Getting noticed here got you killed. The others seemed to be trying everything possible to get Michael’s attention so that they would be selected to go with him to this so-called sanctuary. But all she wanted to do was hide from him.

She dried her face, her eyes weary and fatigued as she walked out of her door and out into the hallway. She knew her place, and it wasn’t the sanctuary. She wanted to try to get some more sleep after fetching the water for Coco so she put on her gray robe over her plain white Victorian nightgown trying to stay warm, her long golden honey brown locks falling passed her shoulders now out of that ridiculous bun. It was cold throughout the corridors at night. She made way down from the top level of the stairs in a spiral that would lead to the main floor hoping that no one was awake yet to bother with her. She gathered up the bottle of water, placing it on a silver tray. She made way down the corridor near Michael’s room. That feeling overcame her again, emotions, and she dropped the tray with a loud clatter in front of his doorway.

[ahs-source]

Happy Friday! Welcome to this week’s Fanfiction Friday! Thank you to those who submitted these fantastic works for this week’s Fanfiction Friday. Let’s celebrate these wonderful works that you can all read while in quarantine! Please stay safe!

As Above, So Below (Completed) by 7_wonders (AO3) Relationships: Michael Langdon x Female Reader | Tags: Hades & Persephone au | Completed (23/23 Chapters) | 71441 words

Your average, mundane life as a college student is flipped upside down when the man you thought you knew as your next-door neighbor turns out to be the God of the Dead. When Michael lures you down to Hell, everything that you thought you knew about the world is proven wrong.

Headache (Completed) by heramew (AO3) Relationships: Fiona Goode x Myrtle Snow | Tags: Abuse, Hurt/Comfort, young Fiona and Myrtle | Completed (1/1 Chapters) | 2098 words

1971, Fiona and her friends sneaked up to a party in town, but things didn't go as planned.

Headfirst for Halos (WIP) by @hellish-ramblings-of-an-emo​ (Tumblr) Relationships: Tate Langdon x Female Reader | Warnings: allusions to both physical and emotional abuse from a family member, actual physical abuse between a freshman and a senior, allusions to mental illnesses such as depression, student v. student violence. A certain way an event was phrased could be considered an allusion to molestation. strong language. a reference to homophobic slurs (none were used) | Completed (1/? Chapters) | 1240 words

I truly believe there isn’t a sound as horrible as the sound of my alarm. The repetitive chimes shoot straight to the center of my brain. It’s horrible. My bones crack as I attempt to get out of bed, a groan instinctively leaving my throat. I was dizzy, the light peeking through from between my blinds making my head throb. My shitty alarm clock read 6:27AM. 15 minutes until my ride gets here.

Love Like Winter (Completed) by @dailylangdon​​ (Tumblr) Relationships: Winter Anderson x Female Reader | Warnings: Oral sex, alcohol use, fingering, lack of plot | Completed (1/1 Chapters) | 549 words

How did you end up like this?

You hadn’t seen her in god knows how long. She was just a girl you knew from school. It was Christmas break from college and by chance you ran into her on your first night back in town.

She took you to her place and you split a frozen cherry lime wine cooler. The two of you talked about old times and dissolved into giggles. Next thing you knew, every piece of your clothing was hastily peeled off your body.

Resistance is Futile (Completed) by Sojourne (AO3) Relationships: Michael Langdon x Female Reader | Tags: Dubious Consent, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Demons, Bondage, Begging, Size Difference, Size Kink, Dirty Talk, Oral Sex, Vaginal Fingering, Fingerfucking, Hand & Finger Kink, Overstimulation, Choking, Hair-pulling, Demons, Demon Summoning, Spanking, Rough Sex | Completed (1/1 Chapters) | 5355 words

Soon after moving into your new apartment, you realize that something isn't quite right. It's constantly cold, you always feel like someone is watching you, and things start moving around on their own.

Turns out, one of the past tenants summoned a demon and then trapped him here, and now he's upset with you invading his territory. Uh-oh.

Demon AU

Run Rabbit Run (Completed) by @maso-xchrist​​​​ (Tumblr) Relationships: Michael Langdon x Female Reader | Warnings: PURE SMUT. Non/dub-con, chasing, violence, mimicry, knifeplay, cutting, stabbing, choking, hanging, & blood consumption. In other words, not for the faint of heart! | Completed (1/1 Chapters) | 6k+ words

A single heart beats in the outpost.

Security Blanket (Completed) by @mxnstersarehuman​​​​​​ (Tumblr) Relationships: Kai Anderson x Female Reader | Prompt: Hey could you write something maybe for a softer Kai Anderson x reader idc what I’m sorry I know this isn’t really specific just softer Kai thanks if you can! | Completed (1/1 Chapters)

You hear the slam of the door and immediately know Kai is home. Things had been so hectic as of late and he was always so busy with his cult so you always made sure to stay up for his return home just so you could see him. Even if it was only for a few minutes before fatigue took over and you both fell asleep.

Kai was a terrifying person, mean and vindictive and manipulative and cruel, all things that he had never been towards you. Everyone in the cult had thought you were crazy for accepting his proposal of a date when he had offered a year ago, but you saw something in his eyes when he asked you. His request wasn’t demanding like you would’ve expected, rather polite and genuinely inquisitive as to whether you actually liked him romantically.

So of course you had said yes.

thanatos (Completed) by SophieGraceJ (AO3) Relationships: Michael Langdon x Mallory | Tags: Immobilisation kink, Smut, Rape/Non-con Elements, Creepy, Blood and Gore, fairytale!au, Snow White!Au, dark!millory, this is dark, Death, cosmic horror kinda | Completed (1/1 Chapters) | 2537 words

“There’s something in these forests.” “Something … something venomous. It’s been killing me since I arrived here. It is what drains me of life, what keeps me bed ridden.” “But I cannot leave. I protect the people. Now I pass this onto you, this destiny is yours now Mallory.”

She fell, fell deep into the grave, body unmoving. At first, she suspected it was sleep. But it wasn’t. No.

Her eyes blinking again, vision clear. She could see, hear, smell … but not touch. Couldn’t move a finger, couldn’t wriggle her toes, couldn’t open her mouth to gasp when time passed.

He met her gaze, and his eyes widened. Only just discovering an intimacy. He smiled some more. This time, it reached his eyes, although they wept with tears, copying her own.

The Devil Incarnate (Completed) by jeromevaleska​​​​​ (AO3) Relationships: Michael Langdon x Female Reader | Tags: POV Second Person, Eventual Smut, Banter, Slow Burn, Family Drama, Lots of plot, Reader-Insert, Explicit Language, Slow Build, Sexual Tension, it starts off when miriam brings michael into her home, there will be smut ya'll already know, Reader-Interactive, Eventual Sex, there's some tension between you and michael, you don't trust him at all, Porn With Plot, i'll add tags as the story goes on, Love/Hate, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Dysfunctional Relationships, Explicit Sexual Content, Developing Relationship | Completed (23/23 Chapters) | 142022 words

You're Miriam Mead's daughter, and you two have a complicated relationship to say the least. You think she's more than a little bonkers with her religious beliefs, and no matter how much she has tried to make you follow the same dark path, it's in vain. But when Miriam welcomes Michael into your home, you start to question everything and you just might become a believer.

the love that discovered the sin (Completed) by @lvngdvns​​​​​ (Tumblr) Relationships: Michael Langdon x Female Reader x Timothy Howard | Warnings: Fingering, oral sex (fem. receiving), threesome, rough sex, double penetration, anallingus, anal sex, vaginal sex, degradation, choking, cum eating, religion kink, biblical allusions/perversion of scripture, all things blasphemous and unholy. Literally just sacrilegious PWP. (+ crack ship pairing) | Completed (1/1 Chapters) | 4.4k words

“Bless me father,” she breathes into Timothy’s ear as she crawls astride his lap, slipping a finger underneath the rim of his collar and pulling it free in a single, effortless motion, “for I have sinned.”

Untitled pt. 2 (pt.1 here) by @writerforprompt​​ (Tumblr) Relationships: Kai Anderson x Female Reader | Warnings: Oral Sex, Manipulation, Mention of Drug Use, Vaginal Sex, Dark Themes, Pregnancy | Completed (1/1 Chapters) | 2350 words 

You were kneeling in between Kai’s legs, head tilted towards the sky, arching your throat into his grip. You brought your chest forward to make sure it was directly within his line of sight. Based upon the number of hungry glances he shot down your plunging neckline, you’d say it was.

Thank you to those who sent in these works! Please continue sending submissions to ahs-source.tumblr.com/submit or through the Tumblr mobile app to continue celebrating the writers in the community!

Previous FF Fridays: 1 | 2a + 2b | 3 | 4a + 4b | 5 | 6

[7-wonders]

Requiem

Michael Langdon x Reader (Mad Love Act II, Chapter XVI)

Summary: It's all led to this, and now, you have to face off against Michael to get your world back.

Word Count: 6.3k

A note from the author: This chapter is so, so dark. Sorry? Also, this chapter relies a lot on the she/her pronouns this story was first started with btw. (more notes at the end)

I noticed when posting this that it looks like the previous chapter didn't load a lot of tags. If you got tagged in this and are like "wait how did we get to the fight already?" you missed the last chapter! Click on the Mad Love Masterlist to read Chapter 35. :)

Content warnings for this chapter include graphic depictions of injury and death. Reader discretion is advised.

Mad Love Masterlist

Mallory warned you prior to leaving your room that the residents of Outpost 3 were all dead, murdered at the hands of Ms. Venable and her poisoned apples (you try not to dwell on your own poisoned apple experience). All the preparation in the world doesn’t prepare you for the shock of seeing two dead bodies, those of Coco and Dinah, in the large foyer of the Outpost. Shock turns to revulsion as one of Mallory’s friends and other witches yanks a knife out of Coco’s skull with little more than a wince. When she stands, she points the knife at you.

“She gonna help us?” she asks warily.

“She is.” Mallory turns to you, pointing first to the woman with the knife and next to another woman standing near the stairs. “This is Queenie and Zoe.”

You wave sheepishly. “It’s nice to meet you two.”

Zoe smiles kindly, but Queenie just appraises you with a look that says she doesn’t trust you. You can’t say that you blame her, though you wish she didn’t have a reason for this reaction. Mallory leaves your side to kneel in between the two dead women, and you watch as she takes a deep breath and breathes out onto Coco’s face before repeating her movements with Dinah.

It takes mere seconds for the two to shoot up, gasping for air and trying to get used to once again inhabiting a body.

“Welcome back,” Mallory says.

“What just happened?” Coco asks, her elaborate hairdo impressively staying put after all of that.

“You died. And now, you’re no longer dead.”

“Oh.” She frowns, rubbing at the spot where a knife sat moments ago. “Fuck, that sucked.”

“Are you going to explain why you tore us from our afterlives?” Dinah snaps, standing up.

“It’s time to fix this entire mess. To defeat Michael, we need all the help we can get.” Mallory eyes Dinah specifically. “From both of you.”

“You’re on your own with that shit,” Dinah declares. “I’m not here to defeat anyone.”

Maybe it’s not your place, but you feel like you can help to convince Dinah. You take a step toward here. “Please, I really think that—”

“How can any of you defeat me, when I’ve already won?” A voice, so familiar to you that it could be your own, comes from the stairs.

You almost don’t want to look at him. If you don’t, maybe you can remain in this stasis where you’re simply preparing to undo the apocalypse, instead of being faced with the reality that you’re about to fight your own husband, the man who, despite all of the horrors he’s committed, remains your love. When you do tear your eyes away from Dinah, you see that he’s not even taking notice of your presence. No, he only has hate-filled eyes for the Supreme.

Michael’s changed into a blood-red jacket, which makes it obvious that he was expecting this showdown to happen. Ms. Mead stands off to his left side, ever the small, imposing bodyguard. Mallory steps forward, along with most of the group. You can’t bring your feet to move, so you remain back with Dinah.

“You haven’t won,” Mallory says. 

“Perhaps you haven’t noticed the state of the world.”

Queenie scoffs. “At least the world can be saved. Unlike your bitch ass.”

Michael smirks proudly. “The seventh seal has been broken. Wormwood has fallen from the sky and turned the rivers to blood and fire. The bottomless pit has been opened and my swarms of locusts and scorpions have ravaged humanity. The world has been remade in my father’s image.”

When he speaks like this, of biblical imagery and prophecy, he turns into a person you don’t care to know. He turns into the Antichrist.

“Almost.” Mallory smiles. “Pretty sure he didn’t imagine a world where there were still witches, so you failed there.”

Michael finally takes in the full group, and his haughty demeanor falters when he sees you. Softly, he utters your name. “What are you doing?”

You swallow thickly, willing your voice not to shake. “I think you know.”

“I do. You’re going to betray me?

Mallory tries to grab your arm as you move in front of her, but you can’t be stopped now. “This is not betrayal. I’m doing this because I love you, and I can’t bear to be faced with the monster that you’ve become any longer. Now, we have a chance to save the world, Michael. Help me undo this mess.”

“Michael,” Mallory gets his attention once more. “Your father never commanded you to end the world in this way. Jeff and Mutt, the two that ran Kineros, were the ones who thought a nuclear apocalypse was the solution. They controlled Ms. Mead and gave her the commands to tell you that this was Satan’s plan. Satan was just happy to take credit when he realized that you were going to cause anarchy.”

“That’s ridiculous,” Michael says.

“Is it? They told me so themselves, when I went to Kineros to ensure that Coco would be in this Outpost.”

He rolls his eyes. “This is such an obvious lie, I’m a little offended that you would think I’d fall for it. Right, Ms. Mead?”

Michael looks to his left, expecting to be backed up, only to see Ms. Mead with a look of bewildered shame on her face.

“Ms. Mead?”

“They—I do as I’m programmed,” she stutters. 

You gasp at the revelation. Satan didn’t come up with the plan to end the world like this? All of this could have been avoided?

Instead of being faced with the same reckoning, a look of absolute murder appears on his face. “I’m going to do what I should have done that day in the Murder House and kill you all personally.”

“Mallory,” Dinah calls, walking towards the Supreme. “You raised me from the dead so that you would have the power of voodoo on your side. But if you know anything about who I am, you know that the only choice I’d pick would be the winner.”

She comes to a stop just before the stairs, bowing her head respectfully. Michael raises a hand out to her, ready to welcome another acolyte. You throw Mallory a panicked look, but she’s barely holding back glee.

“You’re half-right, Dinah,” she admits.

“She needed the help of a powerful voodoo queen,” a deep Southern voice says. You turn and watch as a tall woman with long braids struts up to Dinah. “But that ain’t you, sis .”

“The former Voodoo Queen, Marie Laveau,” Mallory whispers into your ear.

“To release me from hell, Mallory promised Papa Legba the darkest and most corrupt voodoo queen’s soul for mine. You’ll serve him well in my place.”

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

“No!” Marie says, before disappearing in a puff. 

Not even a second later, she reappears behind Dinah wielding a machete. When Dinah turns to face her, Marie brings the machete down in one swing on her throat. Dinah gasps and screams as blood begins to gush out of her neck, falling to the floor and bleeding out in a matter of seconds. Nobody else seems to be affected by this, but you feel a little faint, and you hold onto Mallory’s arm to keep from collapsing.

“Out with the trash!” Marie declares. “Give Papa my regards.”

Michael, apparently having enough of this, nods to Ms. Mead. The android removes her hand to reveal a machine gun hidden underneath it. Though you want to say something along the lines of, “What the actual fuck?” Zoe says a word in what you assume to be Latin before you can.

Instead of shooting, Ms. Mead begins to shake and whir mechanically. Mallory uses Michael’s confusion to usher everybody back towards the open fire, where you watch as Ms. Mead explodes and sends Michael flying over the railing. He lands harshly on the floor below, staring in horror at Ms. Mead’s head next to him.

It’s only a matter of time until his horror turns to rage, and Queenie scrambles forward to grab Ms. Mead’s machine gun hand. When Michael rises, she rises with him, gun trained on his chest.

“Sorry about your little toy,” Queenie says before placing her finger on the trigger.

Michael turns to be met with a firestorm of bullets, more than enough to kill even the Antichrist. You scream in horror at the sight, his blood spattering against the wall as he falls and comes to rest against it, very obviously dead.

“Michael!” You try to stand, wanting to save him even though he probably (definitely) deserves what’s just happened to him. Before you can, Mallory pulls you to her.

“This won’t keep him down,” she assures you. “He’s too powerful to be truly killed. But this will buy us time.”

Though you don’t know if you believe her, you need to in order to keep from emotionally collapsing, so you nod. 

Queenie walks to Michael’s body, kicking his foot as she checks to make sure he’s dead…for now, at least. “Do we need his hair or something for this? Because I’m more than happy to rip off a chunk of it.”

“No. The spell only requires that we have something personal of his.” Mallory smiles at you. “And we have the most important person in his life here with us. As long as you’re still in?”

You force yourself to look away from Michael, closing your eyes and taking a couple of deep breaths to recenter yourself. Finally, you look at her again. “Of course, I’m still in.”

“Good. Have you picked a time that will work to stop him?”

“I think so,” you confirm. After some internal deliberation, you think that the best way to get through to him is going to be when you had the big fight about the poisoned apple, before you stormed out and got yourself kidnapped by the witches. He wasn’t too powerful or too far gone with his father’s plan yet, but you were both in love with each other—albeit, you hadn’t actually realized it at that point.

“Alright. I’ll need you to focus on that, okay? Then I’ll say the spell, and we’ll be able to go back in time. We just need somewhere safe to cast the spell, somewhere with a large tub we can fill with water.”

You definitely found a room like that when you were exploring the Outpost your first couple of days here. “Okay. Follow me.”

Everybody stands, but hesitates when they remember the issue of Michael. If he’s going to come back to life like Mallory says, shouldn’t there be some safety measure in place to buy you more time?

Queenie sighs and rolls her eyes, realizing that she should probably be that safety measure. “Go,” she urges, readjusting her grip on the gun to ensure she’ll be quick to the trigger when Michael rises again.

Mallory darts forward to hug her quickly. “Thank you.”

“Enough with the sappy shit.” Even as she says that, you can see the affection in her eyes when she looks at Mallory. “Go!”

You do as she says and hurry up the stairs. Before you turn the corner, you allow yourself a moment to meet Michael’s open, lifeless gaze.

The hallways are much less of a maze than they were when you first arrived here, but the layout is still unfamiliar to you. After leading your group down what you thought was going to lead to the door you were sure contained the room with the tub, you’re met with a dead end. 

Sheepishly, you look over your shoulder at Coco. “I think I’m a little lost. Isn’t there a room with a really large washtub for laundry around here?”

Her eyes light up, and she lightly pushes you to keep you moving.  “Yes! We’re super close.” It’s going to take a bit to get used to her actually being helpful, you think as you follow her directions. “We’re going to go down this hallway here. Now, the weird little junction up ahead? Take a left and then it’s the third door on the right.”

Now you know where you are. “Thank you! I found it my first time going through the Outpost, but I haven’t lived here for eighteen months like you.”

You’re just about to turn left at the junction when a man appears from the other side of the hallway, jabbing a knife into your abdomen before you can even be surprised at the sight. You cry out, the pain sharp and sudden as he pulls the knife out of you with nothing but malice on his face. When he looks up at you, his scowl is replaced by a horrified shock.

“Oh my god, I thought you were—” He sees Coco, standing just behind you. “She was supposed to be you !”

Your shaking hands try to press down on the wound, but blood rushes out through your fingers, and your knees go weak as you crash into the wall. Down the hall, you can hear Mallory scream your name. She runs for you with Zoe hot on her heels.

“What the fuck did you do?” Mallory yells to the man, landing next to you on the floor and gently pulling your hands away so that she can assess the damage. By the way her lips start to tremble, you assume it’s not good.

The man that stabbed you ignores her, instead focusing on Coco. “You ruin everything!” he yells at her, lifting the knife once more.

Coco pushes him over the railing before he can do any more damage. He screams the whole way down, and Coco peers after him. “Sorry?” she calls with a grimace, no love apparently lost.

“This is…a lot of blood,” you note, watching your black dress becoming even darker from the rapidly expanding bloodstain. You’re also in a lot of pain. Fuck, you didn’t think being stabbed would hurt so much.

“It’s okay! It’s alright!” Mallory soothes; you can’t tell who she’s reassuring, herself or you. “I’m going to fix this. I’m going to—I’ll heal you, and then you’ll be fine.”

Your heart is pounding from a mixture of fear and adrenaline. For the first time since your arrival to this Outpost, you’re truly scared. This is a different fear from when you were worried about Emily and Timothy being executed, or when you realized that Michael wanted to have a child with you. It’s even different from the fear of knowing that you and Michael would be on opposing sides now. This is primal—this is terror.

Mallory’s hands hover over your abdomen as she begins to chant in Latin, eyes screwed shut in concentration. Nothing happens, and as the seconds tick by, your entire body starts to go cold. It’s like somebody’s taken a syringe of ice water and injected it right into your veins. You become more faint than before, and decide that laying flat will probably be the best way to rid yourself of this feeling.

“Why isn’t this working?” Mallory cries in frustration, catching your head and placing it in her lap. Tears begin to build in her eyes as she tries the same breathing technique on you as she did Coco and Dinah to bring them back to life, to no avail. You cough wetly, and when you wipe your mouth, your hand comes away red.

The realization hits you then: you’re dying. The overpowering cold, being unable to sit up anymore, the faintness—your body is beginning to shut down against your will.

“Mallory, I’m scared,” you admit.

“I know. I’m sorry. I promise I’m trying.”

“I know.” You smile at the repetition even as you begin to feel so, so tired. Maybe if you close your eyes and rest for a moment, you’ll be able to get enough strength back to help you fight to stay alive.

Your eyes barely close before Mallory starts shaking you. “No, no, please don’t close your eyes!”

Marie Laveau appears at the far end of the hallway you first ran down and yells something to Mallory, but you can’t quite make out what she says over the rushing in your ears. Mallory takes one of your arms and Zoe takes the other, both working together to pull you down the hallway. You watch dizzily as Coco runs to Marie, your vision warping as the two disappear around the corner.

Mallory continues trying to heal you once they have you in the room where you’re meant to go back in time. Her hand, soaked in your blood, runs over your forehead comfortingly as she becomes more frantic in her chanting. Even Zoe tries to help, pressing down on your abdomen in the hopes of slowing the bleeding as she joins Mallory in spellwork. It’s becoming more difficult to hold on as you become weaker, the two taking turns making you open your eyes again.

“Please, please, please,” Mallory begs any and all forces beyond her power that might be listening.

“I’m sorry,” you mumble, the effort to produce sounds near herculean.

“Don’t apologize,” she says sternly through tears, earning the smallest of laughs from you.

“Yes, ma’am.” Your hands shake as you feel around for Mallory’s, and you weakly squeeze when you find them. “I love you, Mal. I’m so happy I got to see you again.”

“Stop saying goodbye. I’m going to bring you back, this isn’t goodbye.”

For now, though, it is, and you both know it. When your eyes close this time, they don’t open again, and you feel yourself being dragged down, down, down, away from consciousness and life itself.

With your last remaining strength, you become introspective. You have so many regrets, so many words that you’re going to leave unsaid. You wish you had gotten the chance to actually complete the spell and go back in time, sure that you would have been able to change Michael’s mind. You want to thank Queenie and Zoe and Coco and Marie for their help, for believing that you can help fix the mess the world has become. You wish you could—

•••

Michael has had enough of witches on this Earth, he thinks as he blows Queenie’s head clean off her shoulders after coming back to life. She had been distracted by a body falling from two floors up—whose body it was remained a mystery that Michael didn’t care to solve—providing Michael the element of surprise. Even if she were still prepared, it wouldn’t have mattered. He’s too powerful for anything to stop him now.

Maybe he was naive to believe that a simple nuclear bomb or two could kill them. No, he was definitely naive. After all, Mallory knew that the world would be ending, and soon. That was more than enough time for her to gather her chosen forces and figure out a way to survive. He knows now that his path, the one that Satan had created before he had even created Michael, was always meant to lead to this. In order to truly inherit this new world and rule Hell on Earth, he must eradicate the remaining witches with his own hands.

But what to do with you? You’ve chosen your side for this battle, and it’s not his. He nervously hopes that you’re simply mad at him after how your last conversation devolved into a fight, that Mallory reached you at a vulnerable time and used that to her advantage to recruit you. Once he defeats the witches, you’ll come back to him and he’ll concede that he was perhaps wrong to bring up the idea of having a child at such an intimate moment. Still, seeing you standing in solidarity with the witches hurt, which is likely what the Supreme was planning.

When Michael makes it up the stairs, the reanimated voodoo queen blocks the hallway that he knows you and the witches have gone down. Grabbing a pouch off of her belt, she pours a powder into her hand and spreads it in a line in front of her with a chant.

“You shall not pass,” Marie declares with a smirk, wiping her hands of the powder. Michael juts his hand forward, prepared to rip her heart out of her chest, but an invisible barrier stops him. “You’re dealing with the HBIC now.”

He smiles ruefully. “Clever,” he admits. “Normally, that would work.”

He’s about to show that voodoo magic is no match for him anymore when his blood runs cold and his heart drops. At that same moment, he becomes aware of sobbing coming from far behind Marie. Though Michael’s never felt anything like this before, he can feel the certainty of what it means down to his very core: something’s happened. Specifically, something’s happened to you.

“Let me through,” he demands. Marie falters, taken aback at the fear in his eyes. “Marie Laveau, if you value your second chance at life you’ll let me through.”

She recovers from her hesitation with a haughty laugh. “Nice try.” 

Michael makes quick work of her with a simple snap of his fingers, snapping her neck and sending her right back to the Underworld. He’s just about to clear the barrier and figure out just what is going on when he feels a presence behind him. Rolling his eyes, he turns around to face this distraction as well and comes face to face with Coco St. Pierre Vanderbilt, who was with you when he was shot. Surely she must know something about what’s going on.

“What’s happened?” Michael asks. The knife that Coco was prepared to stab him with goes limp in her wrist, and she gapes at him. “Where’s Y/n?”

“She was…Brock…” She weakly mimes a stabbing motion.

“No.” He feels sick at the mere implication. “No!”

Coco now the least of his worries, he runs down the hallway, the whole time hoping that it’s a mistake, that Coco misinterpreted what she saw, that the cold emptiness now residing in his chest is simply a fluke. The sobs that become more clear as he nears the entryway, however, don’t do much to reassure him.

“Mallory!” Michael gasps. 

The Supreme is on the floor with you in her lap, and for a moment, Michael can delude himself into thinking that you’re okay. The excessive amount of blood on the floor—your blood—and the unnaturally limp way that your hand is lying force him to face the obvious. Michael’s knees give out, and he falls to the floor harshly.

Mallory looks up at him, forgetting that they’re meant to be enemies right now. “She got stabbed, and—” a sob rips from her chest, “my healing spells aren’t working. And neither is Vitalum Vitalis. It should be working, Michael, I’m the fucking Supreme.”

“Okay. Um, let me…” Michael’s brain is fighting a war between shutting down from the agony of this situation and kicking into overdrive to figure out how to get you back. After a moment, he thinks he might have an idea. He tries to pull you out of Mallory’s arms and into his own, but she refuses to loosen her hold on you. “Mallory, I need to hold her.”

While he does need to be able to touch you for the spell, he’s not really asking for that purpose. He feels that he might soon lose his grasp on sanity if he can’t hold your body. No, he needs you as close to him as possible, to try and capture the warmth of your body so that he might remind himself that you’ve only just left, that he can still get you back. Begrudgingly, Mallory allows him to hold you, but she still keeps one of your hands in hers.

He’d like to say that it looks like you’re sleeping, comforting himself with the platitude most mourners claim upon seeing a body. He’d be lying, though, because he knows what you look like when you’re sleeping. The way that your face scrunches at the smallest sensation, how your eyes move under their lids and your mouth forms silent words when you’re dreaming particularly deeply, the intermittent light snoring that you swear you don’t do. If you were simply sleeping, he’d play the prince to your Sleeping Beauty and wake you with a kiss, revealing your amused smile and your fond gaze.

Now, there’s none of that. You’ve been dead for mere minutes, but already the signs of death are here. Your face is as slack as all of your muscles now are, making your cheekbones more prominent and your mouth hinge slightly open. A sallowness has started to take over your skin, and he finds himself tracing the apples of your cheeks in a futile attempt to coax blood back to the surface. He even swears that he can feel your body growing colder, just like he feared.

It takes Michael some time to remember what he’s meant to be doing. All of this grief and pain will hopefully be for nothing, so long as he can hold himself together for a little bit longer. He takes a deep breath, hesitating for a moment before dropping his forehead against yours. Tears are threatening to fall, and when he closes his eyes to try and hold them back, it only hastens their arrival. They roll, hot and thick, off of his face and onto yours, and he wipes them off with a silent apology.

Finally, Michael slips into a dissociation as he begins to walk between the realms of living and dead. He’s done this more than a few times now for varying reasons, becoming pretty adept at finding a soul and bringing it back to the living plane. The hardest part by far is always calming his mind enough to be able to attempt this in the first place; the fact that he’s been able to achieve it in this circumstance is a small miracle. 

Now that he’s in the so-called in-between, he begins his search. Every single soul has a signature to it, so as long as he knows who he’s looking for, he usually finds the rest of this process to be pretty straightforward. Since your soul is so near and dear to him, he’s expecting this to take a couple of minutes at most.

A minute passes, then another, as he tries to track your soul down. Michael begins to grow concerned; considering you just died, he shouldn’t be having to search this hard. There’s a complete lack of you anywhere, and he begins to shake as he’s faced with the increasingly likely potential that your soul is gone. But how? Why? With a chilling clarity, he knows exactly what’s happened.

His father has become displeased. Whether he’s had enough of your and Michael’s collective disobedience over the years—Satan holds a grudge like no other, after all—or your declaration that you would never bear Michael’s child or be the perfect wife that Satan had planned for you to be. He’s had enough, and now, he’s taken this opportunity to make good on the threats he first warned Michael about during the poison apple saga. He’s made sure that you’re out of the picture for good. If Michael knows Satan, he’s probably already picked out some girl back at the Sanctuary to be wife number two, and this time, she would be the most devout, demure Satanist who would never even think of going against Satan’s will.

But Michael doesn’t want another wife. No, what he wants is to lay here on the floor and die right along with you, following you into whatever afterlife you’ve found yourself in in the hopes that he can continue to love you there. How can he ever be expected to love another person that’s not you? What kind of a life is there for him to live if you’re not here to share in it?

“Is everything okay?” Mallory asks, reminding him that there’s another person in this room, one who’s going to feel her own devastation at this news.

“I can’t find her. My father…” He chokes on his own words, unable to actually say the fate that’s befallen you. Instead, he can only cry.

Mallory picks up on the context clues, and her face drops. “So that’s it? She’s gone?”

The nod Michael gives her is the most painful movement of his life. When Mallory collapses, he also forgets the pretense of enemies and allows her to fall against him. It’s mainly for his own benefit—were he not using Mallory for support, he would be in a heap on top of you.

They remain without words for a while. Distantly, he’s aware of Zoe talking to Coco down that damned hall, the two wondering what to do now. He hopes that they come up with an answer, because he has no clue. In his opinion, there’s nowhere else to go from here. Though he may not have physically died, his life has ended along with yours in this room.

“Were you telling the truth?” Michael asks finally, making Mallory look up. “About Jeff and Mutt?”

He almost doesn’t want to know, but before he can change his mind, she nods. “All they cared about were themselves. They were fed up with minor inconveniences—having to wait for coffee, traffic woes—and wanted to ‘wipe the slate clean.’ They thought that they could reshape the world to how they wanted, and they used a vulnerable Antichrist to do so. Ms. Mead changed her tune from magic to fire and blood because Jeff and Mutt were feeding her the commands.”

He so badly wants her to be lying, but even if he couldn’t sense her truthfulness, he has his own memories to rely on. How suddenly Ms. Mead suggested that world destruction was preferred to world domination (and that the two cokehead idiots would be the guys to talk to about that) had always seemed a little odd to him, but he simply went along with it, believing Ms. Mead to still be his trusted advisor. This revelation simply makes Michael cry harder until he’s almost matching Mallory’s earlier sobs. She puts her free hand on his shoulder in comfort. Though he appreciates the gesture, nothing can bring him comfort.

All of this pain and death and destruction has been for naught. Michael spent years chasing his father’s approval and doing terrible things, things that made him so sick to think about that he forced himself to compartmentalize them in order to not drown in his shame. He’s shirked friends, love, and basic morals, only to find out that his father didn’t even care if the world ended this way. No, all Satan wanted was power and sin, which he got in spades these past eighteen months. 

“How were you going to stop me?” he asks.

Mallory hesitates. “We…we were going to go back in time. There’s a spell that I found when searching through the coven’s grimoires to help with your Cordelia issue. I practiced it a few times before the bombs dropped, trying to figure out the right way to do it. Y/n was going to be both your personal tie and the one convincing you to stop the apocalypse. She had a time in place where she thought that you would be most willing to listen, to change your mind.”

It’s a smart plan, and it probably would have worked. After all, you likely know (knew, he’s reminded harshly) him better than he knows himself. As he thinks about the what-ifs, Michael realizes that this doesn’t have to be something that never happens.

“So, if you and I were to go back in time together, then we could change all of this?” Michael asks.

Mallory gapes at him. “You’re willing to give all this up?”

“What, this empty, decimated kingdom that I don’t even want?” 

In the eighteen months since the apocalypse, Michael had found that he was not suited for being a ruler—he didn’t like the pomp and circumstance, nor did he like people fawning over him. Still, he pretended to be the cold, uncaring king of this “New World,” because he thought that was what Satan wanted, that he was fulfilling the destiny that he was born to.

Now, there’s nothing left to fight for. The world didn’t even need to be ended, let alone in this way. He’s been nothing but a pawn to people his whole life—the Satanists, the warlocks, the stupid fucks that ran Kineros, even Satan himself. He’s done. Done with this stupid, useless path he’s taken, done with hurting everything and everyone, and done with bowing to the whims of anybody.

After all, what has he got to show for any of this? He’s been a good little soldier, doing unspeakably horrific acts and acting like he wasn’t affected, like he wasn’t the Michael that he was before the apocalypse. How did Satan reward him? By ensuring that he would never get back the one person in his life that he has ever truly loved, and who had ever truly loved him. 

“I can’t—I can’t live a life without Y/n. There is nothing without her. What do I need to do to help you?”

“Promise me,” she says. “Promise me that you will not use this second chance to end the world once again.”

“I just found out I ended the world for no reason, Mallory. A world that I was slowly coming to love, before Cordelia informed me that I needed to speed up the apocalypse plans I had been led to believe were created by my father. Before I was upset by people trying to convince me that blowing everything up was a bad idea.” Because of course, Satan would take credit for those plans if it meant that he would be closer to getting the complete chaos it would create. “Why would I try to end it again?”

Mallory searches his face for a moment before nodding. “I believe you.” 

She’s known him for long enough now to know his tells, and she sees none of them. Right now, he’s too much of a wreck to even consider trying to lie, not that he was planning on it.

Mallory slowly stands, but not before kissing the back of your hand and laying it gently on your chest. “Come on.”

“I’m sorry,” Michael whispers to you, kissing your forehead. “I’m so, so sorry. I’m going to make this right.”

It takes strength he didn’t know he possessed to lay you down and let go of your body. Even as he walks away, going against every instinct and leaving you on the floor, he can’t take his eyes off of you.

Mallory climbs into the large washtub in the corner of the room, flicking her wrist and filling it with water. Michael follows her in, ignoring the uncomfortable sensation of sitting in wet clothes.

“Think of a time that you believe it will be easiest to completely stop the apocalypse before it goes too far,” she instructs.

There are many times in the past two years that Michael can see as a good time to stop the apocalypse. First, he’s tempted to go back to the beginning of this mess, when the witches killed Ms. Mead. Plans for the end of the world hadn’t even been drawn up yet, and he would have the added benefit of having Ms. Mead back. Plus, you wouldn’t have gone through the trauma of being kidnapped and forced to be the Antichrist’s bride.

It’s incredibly selfish, but the more Michael thinks about that avenue, the less he wants to take it. While it’s unfortunate how you came to know each other, he wouldn’t trade the way that you and he fell in love with each other for anything. But on the practical side, he wouldn’t have the influence that he has over important people and organizations were he to go back that far, and he needs that if he’s going to have enough power to keep the world from ending altogether. That’s off the table, then.

He wishes that you had told Mallory of your idea before being fatally wounded, because he probably would have agreed with your assessment. If it was any time after you moved in with him, he was already so in love with you that he could easily be swayed. What makes the most sense?

Finally, Michael has it. The time where he can be most effective at changing the fate of the world and ensuring there will not be an apocalypse by his hand, can remain powerful enough to not be usurped as Antichrist (for he’s sure that Satan will be very displeased by the change of plans if he finds out about Michael changing fate), and can still have you.

He opens his eyes and nods. “I have it.”

“Okay,” Mallory says with a hopeful smile. “Focus on that as hard as you can, place us both there.”

It’s all he can think about now, but he does as she says and recreates that time in his head. The sights, the sounds, the smells. How your hand felt in his, and the brightness of your smile. The possibilities that, at that time, seemed endless. Mallory holds her hands out and Michael takes them, feeling their magic bouncing off of each other like sparks from two exposed wires.

“Balneum infinitum. Dona salui conductus.” Mallory repeats the chant two more times, the water bubbling around them furiously and turning darker with each word.

Michael knows even without Mallory’s instruction that he’s needed to say the last part of the spell, and what that last part is. Just before they submerge themselves under the water, their voices join together to cast the most important spell of their lives.

“Tempus Infinituum.”

•••

Endnotes: Wow. I thought this would be a particularly tough chapter to write, but as I got going, the story flowed easily. I think because I've had this scene stuck in my head for so long! My FBI agent is definitely concerned by how thoroughly I read those "what happens to a body after a person dies" articles.

ALSO the Jeff and Mutt thing is canon!

Anyways, I'm gonna go watch some cute animal videos to feel better. Take care of yourselves, alright?

@ajokeformur-ray @iamavailablesstuff @narwhal-swimmingintheocean @nsainmoonchild @redroses07

@xo-angel-ox @littleangel4996 @iamlivingforturner @thatonehumanbeing05

@codycrazy @love-on-the-murder-scene

[stupidocupido]

Sunlight no longer exists, all that illuminates the too filled cities is neon.

XENON a futuristic millory au

####### read here