#miriam hawthorne

[prettyymafia]

thinking of how i want miriam to kill herself either by hanging or just taking a bunch of pills

[newmoussaland]

Last round…:

💋 Thabita started an affair with Samuel Evans 💁 Randy got a job in the music career 💋 Thabita started an affair with Hawthorne Hawkins 🏫 Miriam maximized the mechanical skill 📈 Randy got promoted to Coffee Shop Sound Engineer 🎈 Thabita threw a party 💋 Randy started an affair with Lorraine Foster, Tamara Parsons and Sharon Price 💋 Thabita started an affair with Lloyd Murphy 👽 Randy got abducted by aliens 💋 Thabita started an affair with Sasha Osborne 🏫 Randy maximized the body skill 🏫 Miriam maximized the creativity skill 📈 And got promoted to Criminal Mastermind 😠 Thabita became enemies with Miriam 💸 Taxes were 5,580 §

This round's taxes were 7,570 §

Starting off on a good note !

Something that feels out of character is that Tabby ALWAYS reads when I'm not controlling her.

Wait, what ? I never thought romance teens would want to OFFICIALLY date someone.

Of course he got a bad memory of asking her out, and yet, he's afraid to lose her.

Miriam managed to fulfill her lifetime want and the picture is a cake ? Was that supposed to be a joke, or ? Like, for her it was LITERALLY a piece of cake.

Speaking of cake, it's the twins birthday !

Tabby became an adult...

...While Randy went to university (I forgot to take more pics).

Vernon was passing by and Tabby decided to confront him. I don't remember why she was mad at him, but it was most likely because he slept with her mother. Anyway, she forgave him.

Miriam came back from work right in time...

...And then THIS happened. Could it be Vernon's baby ? I didn't record it, but he wasn't the only one she slept with around that time...

Randy came to visit and you better believe Tabby told him EVERYTHING !

He made sure to beat up everyone. Also, the baby is gone. I thought about keeping it, but I didn't want Tabby to raise it while Randy was still at university (i.e. alone).

He had one more thing to do before leaving. Of course he couldn't risk letting his mother hurt his sister again, so he faked a peace deal.

The poison strikes again !

Regret ? What's that ?

That's it for now.

[basicallyawoodnymph]

Hunger Games fancast part 1

Heyy i havent posted my own stuff in forever, and ive just re read the books, so here is my full hunger games fancast (couple parts for image reasons) so part 1 :)

Katniss everdeen: Asha Banks

Flashback katniss: yaya gosselin

Peeta mellark: kit conner

Effie trinket: emily blunt

Haymitch abernathy: nikolaj coster waldeau

Primrose everdeen: miriam spumpkin

Fashback primrose: presley smith

Mrs everdeen: kate winslet

Gale hawthorne: Joel Oulette

Madge undersee: ruby stokes

[michael-langdon-appreciation]

OMG your last drabble was so good! I have something fluffier to contribute, if you don’t mind :). Since the twins are still mentally 3, I can imagine they haven’t grown out of sleeping in the same bed, with Michael wrapping himself around Jeffrey like a python. On their first night at Hawthorne, Michael starts to cry so Ariel has to move them into the same room so the other students can sleep.

Buckle in for more of the twins! 🙊

Jeffrey’s always been the more independent of the twins. He had to be the one to stand up to Constance’s wrath, the one to fend off the malevolent ghosts at the Murder House. Miriam Mead had no love for the angel living under her roof, her focus was 100% Michael and Jeffrey had to deal with it. Jeffrey stood by, what else could he do? Michael adores his Mrs Mead and trusts her with his life, almost at the same level of trust the brothers have, but not quite. Michael was adamant that he and Jeffrey stay in the same room and most nights Michael would sneak over and push his way into Jeffrey’s bed, seeking his companionship. Jeffrey never complained, he liked watching out for Michael even if he wouldn’t always admit it. His brother grew clingy after Jeffrey took a wander after the Black Mass, after the death of that poor girl at the hands of Anton Levay. Eventually Jeffrey pushed the twins single beds together, there just wasn’t enough room for them to share the one bed like they had with Constance, back when they really were six years old. Jeffrey and Michael have grown-up, but old habits die hard. 

He rolls over facing the cold empty space next to him and it feels wrong, not having Michael beside him. Jeffrey is used to having his twin stuck to his back, Michael having to have one part touching his twin at all times. But Jeffrey can’t deny that the newfound freedom is liberating, to be able to stretch out in his new double bed, to turn the lights out when he wants without having to check Michael’s ready for bed too, to sleep with the duvet on for the first time ever. 

His eyes are just beginning to slip closed, finally comfortable and warm after such a long day. He cannot believe that only six hours ago he was arguing with police officers, thinking about how on earth he was going to scrape enough money together for a lawyer. Jeffrey never though their sanctuary would come in the form of a Warlock, a man who didn’t look twice at Jeffrey. He spoke mostly to Michael, trying to coax out the power lurking within him and when Jeffrey unpinned that officer from the wall he saw Ariel Augustus’ eyes shine - two for the price of one. The Hawthorne Academy is a fresh start, a chance for Jeffrey and Michael to hone their skills and forge their own paths. Jeffrey’s eyes fall over the stack of textbooks on his besides table, promising magic he’s never even heard of and classes that will help shape him into the man he was always destined to be. He’s also excited for Michael, to see his twin finally find a place in the world. To find likeminded people who accept him, who accept them both. 

A knock at his door brings Jeffrey from the brink of sleep, ‘Huh?’ His mumble is unintelligent as the door opens and it takes a moment for Jeffrey to make out who is illuminated in the light from the hallway, ‘Ariel?’

‘My apologies for disturbing you, Jeffrey.’ Ariel begins, ‘Michael is uh…’ I watch the Warlock struggle with his words, ‘He’s asking for you.’

Jeffrey frowns, ‘Is he alright?’ 

‘He’s fine.’ Ariel doesn’t know what to do with his hands, he placed one on the doorframe while the other waves about in the air. ‘One of our tutors found him wandering the halls looking for you. He was very…determined to see you.’

Jeffrey knows what’s wrong, because he’s been feeling it too hasn’t he? He kicks off the covers, removing himself from the coziness he’s created and shoves his feet into the black slippers by the side of his bed, ‘Where is he?’

‘We thought it best to put Michael near me.’ Ariel says leading the way to Michael’s room. ‘As you seem to have much more control over your magic than he, we wanted to Michael close just in case-’

‘In case you needed to contain him.’ 

Ariel purses his lips, ‘I suppose. Thought contain is a strong word.’ He taps twice on Michael’s door and then cracks it open, ‘Michael, I have Jeffrey with me.’

Michael is sat in front of the blazing fire he’s got going. He gets to his feet and on seeing Ariel is still in the room his expression becomes stony, ‘Leave us.’

Ariel’s eyes slide back to Jeffrey, ‘Will you find your way back alright?’

‘I won’t be back tonight.’ Because Jeffrey knows Michael isn’t going to let him go, he’s not ready yet. The door closes to and Michael runs right over to his twin and throws his arms around Jeffrey. The air is pulled from Jeffrey’s lungs, ‘Michael?’

‘I thought I wasn’t going to see you again.’ He says, hiding his face in the silk of Jeffrey’s pyjamas. ‘I thought they were going to take me away and do things and we’d be parted forever.’ 

Jeffrey’s hand pats Michael’s curls, keeping his brother close, ‘I would never let that happen.’

‘What if they didn’t give you a choice?’

Jeffrey’s hold tightens, he did fear exactly that. ‘It doesn’t matter now, we’re here and things are going to get so much better.’

Michael gives him a timid smile, his eyes are red and the cut on his cheek hasn’t been treated properly. ‘Have you been crying?’

‘No.’

‘Michael?’

His brother holds Jeffrey’s gaze for a minute then his adam’s apple bobs as Michael chokes back a sob and he cracks, ‘It was lonely. It didn’t feel like you were here, like you were miles away from me.’ 

Jeffrey brushes his thumb over Michael’s cut, letting his magic slowly extract the infection and heal it over, the scar now just a blemish. ‘Well it won’t scar.’ He reports, ‘You’re as pretty as ever, though I’m still the handsome twin.’

Michael lets him have that jab tonight, his eyes are downcast, his fingers keeping hold of Jeffrey’s sleeve. ‘Ariel keeps going on about this Alpha person, I think it’s one of us but I don’t know who.’

That’s new information, Jeffrey feels the impending competition looming, that these Warlocks may try and pit the brothers against each other. Jeffrey will tackle Ariel Augustus and his nonsense tomorrow, right now he needs to be there for his brother. He lets Michael pull him over to his bed and watches as he peeling back the covers and pushes the duvet onto the floor. Jeffrey kicks off his slippers and slides in beside his twin. Michael curls up at once, pressing himself into Jeffrey’s side. Jeffrey loops his arm over and let’s Michael rest his head on his chest, usually this would be too much but tonight both twins need each other. Today was too close a call and finally the unease Jeffrey’s been carrying around begins to leave. Michael’s head grows heavy, ‘Can hear your heartbeat?’ Michael murmurs, ‘It’s racing.’

‘No it isn’t.’

Michael peers up at him and his eyes are wide, ‘You were scared, scared of losing me too.’

Jeffrey nods, ‘You’re my twin. I don’t want to see anything bad happen to you, ever.’  

‘I didn’t think you were scared of anything.’ 

Jeffrey doesn’t answer that, he doesn’t tell Michael that he’s terrified every day that something will break them apart, that he will no longer be enough for Michael Langdon in this new world of magic. Instead, Jeffrey pushes his feet onto Michael’s legs delighting in the way Michael hisses, shoving Jeffrey’s legs off, ‘Why do you always do that?’ He whines.

‘Cause it’s funny seeing your reaction.’

‘You’re damn freezing,’ Michael shudders.

‘If I have to spend the night sweltering then you can put up with a momentarily bit of cold.’ 

It isn’t long before Michael settles in Jeffrey’s arms again, all the tension falling away as he cuddles into his twin, ‘Is it embarrassing we’re still sharing a bed?’

‘A little.’ Jeffrey admits, ‘But who cares, huh?’

Michael nods, ‘You won’t ever leave me again, will you?’ Jeffrey can’t resist a smile, Michael’s getting dopey, his voice thick with exhaustion. ‘Get some sleep, Michael.’

‘You won’t though. Not like after the Black Mass?’ 

Jeffrey winces at the memory, drawn back into the past. He had to get out of the Murder House and lose himself for a while. It was a place of evil he never should have stepped foot inside, he knows that now. The angel sought refuge in the only place he knew Michael couldn’t go inside - the church. How spent four days with the priests, just sitting at the pews and eating whatever they gave him. They could sense there was something about Jeffrey, his resolution and reluctance to speak, but every priest saw the haunted look in his eyes. Jeffrey pushed it all down, collected himself and did his best to purge the darkness that had threatened to engulf him, indulging in this new sanctuary till he finally felt like himself again. Till he could face the hellhole once more. 

But Michael was gone. 

It had taken him a week to track down Miriam Mead’s address and even longer to earn back Michael’s trust. There was a day when Jeffrey thought his twin would never forgive him for his momentary abandonment, that all he would ever see in Michael’s blue eyes was the bitter sting of betrayal and that lingering fear that I’d leave him all over again. The day he found Michael asleep in his bed and let his opposite snake around and fit against like the missing key to a lock, Jeffrey knew things were going to be alright. 

‘I’m not going anywhere, ever again.’ 

Tagging some babes and faves: @langdonsoceaneyes @sodanova @avesatanormalpeoplescareme @petersfern-fics​ @sassylangdon @sammythankyou @wroteclassicaly @sojournmichael @alexcornerblog @confettucini @avesatanaslangdon @the–queen-of-hell @thegraphitechronicles​ @queencocoakimmie​ @langdons-little-girl​ @cryptid-coalition​ @ritualmichael​ @langdonsrapture​ @langdonsdemon @wickedlangdon​ @americanhorrorstudies​ @ghostiesbedroom​ @cryptid-coalition @starwlkers @thelangdoncooperative @lovelykhaleesiii @sloppy-little-witch-bitch26 @kinlovecody @kylosbabe @asstichrist @tickled–pinkmoodpoisoning @xxpixiefromdixiexx @sevenwondr @langdonsinferno @yourkingcodyfern @icylangdon

[lacangri21]

The Feminist Library

-7000 Years of Patriarchy by Petra Ioana

-A Deafening Silence by Patrizia Romito

-Against Our Will by Susan Brownmiller

-Against Pornography by Diana E.H. Russell

-Against Sadomasochism by Robin Linden

-Ain’t I a Woman by Bell Hooks

-All Women Are Healers by Diane Stein

-Anti-Porn by Julia Long

-Anticlimax by Sheila Jeffreys

-Are Women Human by Catharine MacKinnon

-Backlash by Susan Faludi

-Bad Feminist by Roxane Gay

-Beauty and Misogyny by Sheila Jeffreys

-Beauty Sick by Renee Engeln

-Beauty Under the Knife by Holly Brubach

-Being and Being Bought by Kasja Ekis Ekman

-Beyond God the Father by Mary Daly

-Big Porn Inc by Melinda Tankard Reist and Abigail Bray

-Blood, Bread, and Roses by Judy Graham

-The Book of Women’s Mysteries by Z Budapest

-Borderlands by Gloria Anzaldua

-Burn it Down by Lilly Dancyger

-Butterfly Politics by Catharine MacKinnon

-Caliban and the Witch by Silvia Federici

-Choosing to Conform by Avelie Stuart

-The Church and the Second Sex by Mary Daly

-Cinderella Ate My Daughter by Peggy Orenstein

-Close to Home by Christine Delphy

-Compulsory Heterosexuality and Lesbian Existence by Adrienne Rich

-Conquest by Andrea Lee Smith

-Damned Whores and God’s Police by Anne Summers

-Daring to Be Bad by Alice Echols

-Dead Blondes and Bad Mothers by Sady Doyle

-Defending Battered Women on Trial by Elizabeth A. Sheehy

-Deliver Us from Love by Brogger

-Delusions of Gender by Cordelia Fine

-Detransition by Max Robinson

-The Disappearing L by Bonnie J. Morris

-Does God Hate Women by Ophelia Benson

-Doing Harm by Maya Dusenbery

-The End of Gender by Debra W. Soh

-The End of Patriarchy by Robert Jensen?

-Female Chauvinist Pigs by Ariel Levy

-Female Erasure by Ruth Barrett

-Female Sexual Slavery by Kathleen Barry

-Femicide by Jill Radford and Diane EH Russell

-Femininity by Susan Brownmiller

-Femininity and Domination by Sandra Lee Bartky

-Feminism Unmodified by Catharine MacKinnon

-Feminist Theory by Bell Hooks

-Firebrand Feminism by Breanne Fahs

-Flesh Wounds by Blum

-Flow by Elissa Stein and Susan Kim

-For Her Own Good by Barbara Ehrenreich

-For Lesbians Only by Sarah Lucia Hoagland

-Freedom Fallacy by Miranda Kiraly

-Gender Hurts by Sheila Jeffreys

-Getting Off by Robert Jensen?

-Global Woman by Barbara Ehrenreich

-Going Out of Our Minds by Sonia Johnson

-Going Too Far by Robin Morgan

-The Great Cosmic Mother by Monica Sjoo and Barbara Mor

-Gyn/Ecology by Mary Daly

-Gynocide by Mariarosa Dalta Costa

-Handbook of Feminist Therapy by Lynne Bravo Rosewater and Leonore E.A. Walker

-Heartbreak by Andrea Dworkin

-Her Body and Other Parties by Carmen Maria Machado

-The Hidden Malpractice by Gena Corea

-How to Suppress Women’s Writing by Joanna Russ

-I Am Your Sister by Audre Lorde

-I Hate Men by Pauline Harmange

-Ice and Fire by Andrea Dworkin

-In Defense of Separatism by Susan Hawthorne

-In Harm’s Way by Catharine MacKinnon

-In Search of Our Mothers’ Gardens by Alice Walker

-The Industrial Vagina by Sheila Jeffreys

-Inferior by Angela Saini

-Intercourse by Andrea Dworkin

-Invisible No More by Andrea J. Ritchie

-Invisible Women by Caroline Criado Perez

-Jewish Radical Feminism by Joyce Antler

-Kill All Normies by Angela Nagle

-The Laugh of Medusa by Helene Cixous

-Laughing with Medusa by Vanda Zajko and Miriam Leonard

-The Lesbian Heresy by Sheila Jeffreys

-Lesbian Nation by Jill Johnston

-Letters from a War Zone by Andrea Dworkin

-Love and Politics by Carol Anne Douglas

-Loving to Survive by Dee Graham

-Making Violence Sexy by Diana E.H. Russell

-Man Made Language by Dale Spender

-Man’s Dominion by Sheila Jeffreys

-Medical Bondage by Deirdre Cooper Owens

-Men Explain Things to Me by Rebecca Solnit

-Men Who Buy Sex by Melissa Farley

-Men Who Hate Women by Laura Bates

-Men Who Hate Women and the Women Who Love Them by Susan Forward

-Milk and Honey by Rupi Kaur

-Misogyny by Jack Holland?

-The New Handbook for a Post-Roe America by Robin Marty

-Nobody’s Victim by Carrie Goldberg

-Not a Job, Not a Choice by Janice Raymond

-Not for Sale by Rebecca Whisnant

-Nothing Matters by Somer Brodribb

-Objectification Theory by Barbara I. Fredrickson

-Of Woman Born by Adrienne Rich

-Only Words by Catharine MacKinnon

-Our Blood by Andrea Dworkin

-Our Bodies, Ourselves by Boston Women’s Health Book Collective

-Overcoming Violence Against Women and Girls by Michael L. Penn and Rahel Nardos?

-Paid For by Rachel Moran

-The Pimping of Prostitution by Julie Bindel

-Pimp State by Kat Banyard

-Policing the Womb by Michelle Goodwin

-Pornified by Pamela Paul

-Pornland by Gail Dines

-Pornography by Gail Dines

-Pornography: Men Possessing Women by Andrea Dworkin

-Pornography and Civil Rights by Andrea Dworkin and Catharine MacKinnon

-Pornography and Violence by Susan Griffith

-Pornography Values by Robert Jensen?

-Pure Lust by Mary Daly

-The Purify Myth by Jessica Valenti

-Quiverfull by Kathryn Joyce

-Radical Feminism Today by Denise Thompson

-Radical Feminist Therapy by Bonnie Burstow

-Radical Reckonings by Renate Klein

-Radically Speaking by Diane Bell...

-Rape by Susan Griffiths

-Rape in Marriage by Diana E.H. Russell

-Rape of the Wild by Ann Jones

-Refusing to Be a Man by John Stoltenberg?

-Right-Wing Woman by Andrea Dworkin

-A Room of One’s Own by Virginia Woolf

-Runaway Wives and Rogue Feminists by Margo Goodhand

-SCUM Manifesto by Valerie Solanas

-Selling Feminism by Amanda M. Gengler

-Sex Matters by Alyson J. McGregor

-Sexual Harassment of Working Women by Catharine MacKinnon

-Sexual Politics by Kate Millett

-Sexy but Psycho by Jessica Taylor

-She Dreams When She Bleeds by Nikki Taraji

-Sister Outrider by Audre Lorde

-Sisterhood is Forever by Robin Morgan

-Sisterhood is Global by Robin Morgan

-Sisterhood is Powerful by Robin Morgan

-Slavery Inc by Lydia Cacho

-Spinning and Weaving by Elizabeth Miller

-Surrogacy by Renate Klein

-Sweetening the Pill by Holly Grigg-Spall

-Taking Back the Night by Laura Lederer

-Talking Back by Bell Hooks

-Testosterone Rex by Cordelia Fine

-The Beauty Myth by Naomi Wolf

-The Creation of Patriarchy by Gerda Lerner

-The Dialectic of Sex by Shulamith Firestone

-The Feminine Mystique by Betty Friedan

-The First Sex by Elizabeth Gould

-The Legacy of Mothers: Matriarchies and the Gift Economy as Post-Capitalist Alternatives by Erella Shadmi

-The Lolita Effect by Gigi Durham

-The Man-Made World by Charlotte Perkins Gilman

The Porn Trap by Wendy Maltz

-The Prostitution of Sexuality by Kathleen Barry

-The Second Sex by Simone de Beauvoir

-The Sexual Liberals and the Attack on Feminism by Janice Raymond...

-The Spinster and Her Enemies by Sheila Jeffreys

-The Transsexual Empire by Janice Raymond

-The Women’s History of the World by Rosalind Miles

-This Bridge Called My Back by Gloria Anzaldua

-This is Your Brain on Birth Control by Sarah Hill

-Toward a Feminist Theory of the State by Catharine MacKinnon

-The Traffic in Women and Other Essays by Emma Goldman

-Trans by Helen Joyce

-Unbearable Weight by Susan Bordo

-Unpacking Queer Politics by Sheila Jeffreys

-Unscrewed by Jaclyn Friedman

-Unwell Women by Elinor Cleghorn

-The Unwomanly Face of War by Svetlana Alexievich

-The Vagina Bible by Jennifer Gunter

-A Vindication of the Rights of Woman by Mary Wollstonecraft

-The War Against Women by Marilyn French

-We Were Feminists Once by Andi Zeisler

-What Do We Need Men For by E. Jean Carroll

-When God was a Woman by Merlin Stone

-Who Cooked the Last Supper by Rosalind Miles

-Why Does He Do That by Lundy Bancroft

-Why Women Are Blamed for Everything by Jessica Taylor

-Why Women Need the Goddess by Carol P. Christ

-Wildfire by Sonia Johnson

-Witches, Midwives, and Nurses by Barbara Ehrenreich

-Witches, Witch Hunting, and Women by Silvia Federici

-Woman and Nature by Susan Griffith

-Woman Hating by Andrea Dworkin

-Woman-Identified Woman by Trudy Darty

-Women v. Religion by Karen L. Garst

-Women’s Lives, Men’s Laws by Catharine MacKinnon

-The Women’s Room by Marilyn French

[dyns33]

I tried to be a rubber suit Michael, but I was pushing myself and it wasn't right at all, so I'm just going to explain the idea.

Michael and Y/N have been friends since Miss Mead took him in. She's the only person in the neighborhood who doesn't judge Miriam for her beliefs, so she's the only person Miriam likes. Because Michael feels alone when she has to go out, she asks Y/N to keep him company, telling her that the poor boy has never had a friend. Very quickly they get closer, and Michael feels that Y/N is not afraid of him, that she does not stay either because she feels sorry for him, that she really appreciates his compagny, so he confides most of his secrets to her. Just not his past at Murder House, he doesn't like to talk about it. Then Michael leaves for Hawthorne. Y/N wants to see him, so she asks Miriam, who asks Ariel. Normally visitors are prohibited, but since Michael is the Alpha he makes an exception. It's a surprise, so Michael doesn't know she has to come. When she enters his room, she finds him wearing the rubber suit. Michael explains that it was his father. The only memory he took from his old life.           "I felt lost, I didn't know what to do and when I put on this suit... I was protected. In fact, I wasn't really there anymore, it wasn't me. Today everything should be  better, I know who I am, what to do, but... I'm scared Y/N. What if I'm not up to it ? If I fail despite my best efforts ? If Miss Mead hates me ? If..." Y/N tries to reassure him, saying that he will get there, that he is not alone. She jokes too, saying he's very sexy in this rubber suit. There was always sexual tension between them, when they held hands, when they slept together, but their intimacy was never more than emotional. Without warning, Michael slams Y/N against the wall. He touches her, rubs against her, sniffs her, even though that's not really possible with the mask. Y/N doesn't know how to react, on the one hand she's not against it, but not seeing Michael's face, not feeling his skin against hers, it's not perfect. Then he pushes her onto the bed, he continues to undress her, to turn her on, and when she was ready, he puts his hands around her neck and he squeezes. Y/N struggles, screams, hits him, but he continues. She then manages to tear off his mask, remembering what he said. Michael isn't Michael for a few more seconds. He smirked as he looked at her in the eye. Then he realizes what he is doing. He apologizes, he cries, he doesn’t dare to touch her but wants to take her in his arms. He really is a monster.          "Michael, it was not you. Not really, remember ? It's the rubber suit. I know it wasn't you." He wants to throw it away, but Y/N tells him to keep it. It can be used one day,  later. And they can have fun, just without the mask. She prefers to see his sweet face. But Michael refuses to use it again with her. The rubber suit will then only be used when he wants to seduce someone and then kill them. But not Y/N. Michael wants to seduce her while being himself, and then keep her forever. All the idiots are his, but he’s only hers. 

[windsweptlassie]

On Love

So as you know I made this uquiz with an open-ended question at the end, tell me something about love, and I’ve gotten the most wonderful responses! They range from descriptions of wonderful partners: 

Lauren: oh, how long I went without being myself until I met him and he showed me who I truly was and that my worth was higher than I ever thought was possible

Levi: I love who we are with each other. I love who I am with you. In your company I am me. In your company I am the best of me. The best with the best, I've told you. I wouldn't give you up for anything

Daniel: i fell in love for the first time when i was 17... at the time, i didn’t realize it was the first time, i thought i’d been in love before, a couple times actually, but falling in love at 17 was such a fulfilling experience, it felt so forceful yet so right. it’s when i first truly understood what love was. never before had i felt so understood and so cared for as i did when i was in love with her, and she was in love with me. it’s been nearly 4 years since then, and nearly 3 years since we broke up and stopped talking, and still, i think about her almost every day. i’ve never known anyone like her; to me, she was love itself.

El: oh i’m in love with everyone that i know op!!! especially my girlfriend, of course ,but also my friends and my family and random people on the street and uh

Grace: i’ve met my soulmate and we plan on getting an apartment and marrying after college

A: I’m going to ask the woman I love to marry me and I just wanted to tell someone because I am so excited

Jeremy: you ever have that feeling where basically after years of denying that someone couldnt understand you in a way or love you and then the next thing you know you happen to find that person and its just great from then on out? idk how to explain it anyways I love my boyfriend so much he means the world to me

Lucy: i am so happy i have found the one i love

to descriptions of best friends and favorite people:

Nightbyrd: Love is a hug from an alzheimer's patient who hasn't the foggiest idea who you are, but they know you're worth hugging.

H: I have been doing so much yoga with my roommate recently!! It's a great way to center my mind for an hour

Riv: [platonic] i’ve literally never met anyone who understands me in the way that my best friends do. they’re literally the best people in the whole world and i genuinely don’t know what i’d do without them. i love them with my whole heart

Cillian: when i talk about how much i love my best friend i get so teary eyed because i cant believe that such a genuinely wonderful person wants to speak to me every day - i care for her more than anyone else on this planet

O: my two besties are my sources of happiness and they’re so pretty i would die for them :D

to beautiful quotes:

Kai: "you have bewitched me, body and soul, and I love, I love, I love you. I never wish to be parted from you from this day on." DARCYYYY PLS MY HEART CANT HANDLW THIS PAIN

Dorian: When the plane went down in San Francisco, I thought of my friend M. He’s obsessed with plane crashes. He memorizes the wrecked metal details, ____the clear cool skies cut by black scars of smoke. Once, while driving, he told me about all the crashes: The one in blue Kentucky, in yellow Iowa. How people go on, and how people don’t. It was almost a year before I learned that his brother was a pilot. I can’t help it, I love the way men love. (accident report in the tall, tall weeds- ada limon, bright dead things)

Adam: every day I think about lemony snicket I will love you if I never see you again I will love you if I see you every Tuesday or however it goes. and it KILLS ME. love only fits in small things

Hero: “Your heart beats in my ribs and mine in yours, and both in God’s… The divine magnet is in you, and my magnet responds.” - Herman Melville to Nathaniel Hawthorne

Mary: "Love is watching someone die."

Alex: "meet me at blue diner, i'll take coffee and talk about nothing baby"

Sparrow: "How dare you love me like you've never known fear?" and "For you, the world," and "Darling, I was born to press my head between your shoulder blades," and "Will you start where I end?"

V: " You want to die for love. You always have. " and "someone will remember us, I say, even in another time" are living rent free in my mind 24/7 and I'm shaking. When will I finally be not the only one falling ?

Sahar K: To love another person is to see the face of god!!!

Miriam: all the love in the world is useless when there is total lack of understanding- kafka

Juls: Don’t you think they are maybe the same? Love and attention

to practices of love:

Leo; i love feeling happy bc somebody that i love is happy and comfortable....like its not about me i just love seeing you smile. we are safe together...idk i just feel it bro

A: I like to think love is leaning on each other during the light or dark days. Its a personal mission of mine to find out who I am and what I want. Yet I never seem to find my place in this world and as I look and look , I realise the only place I can be myself even with or without the efforts to find myself was done on that day or not, I am always tired so shall I lean on you? And you can lean on me as well. I shall be your fig tree and you shall be my favourite willow tree.

L: It's too late at night to be soul searching, but it's a journey we all seem to find ourselves on these days.

Anthi: feeling safe and at home, I guess (also I love frogs)

Julia: ive found that loving someone is like becoming your own thesaurus. you have to find or come up with infinite ways to say, you’re beautiful, or, i love you. it’s a gift

Galexies: ive been writing letters to the person i'd love one day since i was 14. i write them in a little journal usually, but i've been digitizing them into emails and sending them to one account that i'll give to them someday. i'd like to put pictures, but i haven't been outside much recently so theres that. i wonder if they'd like the sunsets i have on file, or if they'd find my cat cute in a bowtie.

Caeles: Love is sharing fruit slices and making someone tea at random

Dundy: Love is sending your friends cursed shit and watching them react in horror

to crushes and potential loves: 

Jess: I have a crush on my roommate. It sucks, but it's also wonderful. I get to be around him all the time when we're at school. we share a life together; it's rather domestic. I think a lot about marrying him and being domestic with him forever. It won't happen, and I'll move on eventually, but I'll be happy with him for as long as I can. I hope you feel loved tonight, because you are. Sleep well.

Aki: I so desperately want to believe that love is fake because I’ve seen what happens when loved ones leave but whenever I start to convince myself that I’ll never love anyone my best friend messages me telling me she loves me. She’s the only person I’ve ever pictured having a future with but love scares me and I don’t really know what to do but I think as long as she’s with me in some way, I’ll be fine

Hi: her her i keep thinking abt her.... gonna see her in 8 days or so i really miss her. its ok if shes never gonna love me like i want her to really being her friend spending time with her makes me the happiest girl on earth.... outsold antidepressants

Kit: this guy i have a crush on has hypnotically dark brown eyes and he's wonderful and shows me kindness like no one else

Juno: my crush has all the stars in his eyes

Mads: When I have the courage to meet my eyes with hers, the world stands still

Be Nice To Me: Look bro I never do these but I am yearning to hold them SO badly right now and someone needs to know it besides me

to the trials of love: 

Pppppp: I just wanna love like from the movies and what I read about.. but everyone tells me that that’s fictional and rare to find in the real world and it sucks bc it seems like all the guys I’ve met are terrible and the norms of society are all about not respecting women and uthdjdjdk

Manny: I have been in love before and I will be again but I’m not now and I miss it

Ok: I don't think I've ever been in love, though I love many people. I am waiting for the day I look at someone and can say, YES. IT'S YOU.

Chloe: idk rn i'm like okay with my love and i'm happy so we'll see i'm just a little cautious rn bc my last partner told me i didn't know how to love

L: love is so fucking complicated I don't even know where to start

Corrin: He’s not real and it worried me that I will never allow myself to live or be loved because I will always be waiting for him

Sean: Good luck it dont exist

Serena: i want 2 b in love :(( </3

13: I don’t know anymore

M: I just really don’t like dealing with it lol

to beloved characters: 

Janaya: I’m madly in love with my comfort and kin character and I hope maybe in the afterlife I can relive a life with him in some sort of dimension

Jhgjdf: when i was a kid i had a crush on ash ketchum from pokemon and id always daydream about being a female pkmn trainer and meeting him and we fall in love

to advice and prose: 

Mikolai: Love is earth, gentle and soft at first flight but upon being broken, drowns you in the dry choking wastes of its consequences...

Thex: Your hands will not go cold without someone to hold them. I am here. I will be here.

Kat: it is the nearest proof to god that i find myself surrounded by people who love in a way that complements so wonderfully the way i love

H: believe in love out of spite believe in love to prove everyone wrong believe in love because you were told not to and we will not do what we’re told anymore believe in love because it’s the strongest act of teenage rebellion we have left believe in love because it’s easier not to and when is easy worth doing? believe in love because everything says otherwise but you are untouchable, you are your own, you are not made by their design believe in love because, perhaps, you are love

Ali: I used to want a kind of love that feels like coming home and now I want nothing more than to be away from home on many different adventures

Em: you dont need to love yourself to accept it from others

to the small, the simple, and the sweet:

Ireal: Poems

O: Flowers

Fay: ah im sorry that i’m feeling unmotivated but you are very kind.

Ad: we love LOVE

A: <3

Isak: small things

H: intense

Hey: Listening to a clock ticking away

S: her

E: <3

Hania: Amorous, I adore that word ^^

Catboy: wholesome

J: i love love so much it hurts

Emmy: hi i love the song darkest of discos!! try and give it a listen!! <3

Nora: Love is painful, but most of the time love is great

Ariel: i like the comfort it can bring

M: i love love

to food!

Cool Whip: Matzoh ball soup!!

Woop: I love sausages.... I hope that's ok with you?

and animals too <3

Nee: hmm i have pet geckos and i love them very much!

96: raccoons ????

DJ Big Penis: cats

:3: I Love frogs,,, love is stored in the frog,,,

I hope that this serves as a sweet compilation of what love means! Love to all of you, it warms my heart so much to hear about your people and your geckos and your characters and soup and all the songs and quotes you love. <3 Strength to all of you who are figuring out to do about your feelings for your crush, and congratulations to you who are proposing or moving in with your person! Your words are a source of light to me, truly.

[we-eternal-rp]

+2 APPS 

harold oliver hawthorne III as PAN + andrew garfield fc  

miriam ‘miri’ murphy as MEDUSA + antonia gentry fc

[botheredbeewitched]

Oran Irving Hawthorne Fairfield

Oran is the oldest child of Hortensia and Francis, the oldest of all of Hortensia's children.

Made widow by Miriam Galicia Renwick who recently died about a week after giving birth to their son. No one knows if by natural causes or by magic.

Their son is called Gaspar Hawthorne Renwick Fairfield, a healthy and curious child.

He works as an advisor for important people in the Ministry of Magic, but also as a freelance accountant. People pay him to think and that's the base of it.

He was sorted into Ravenclaw. Never played Quidditch but enjoyed some wizard chess and debate groups. Arithmancy genius.

His patronus is a Shark Whale, the biggest non-mammalian vertebrae fish - reason why he prefers casting non corporeal patronuses because this thing is huge. The Shark Whale doesn't present threat to humans despite it's size and name.

Used to be this outgoing, happy-go-lucky kind of guy, but lately grief for his beloved has been eating him alive. His son's the only thing he keeps moving forward for.

Extremely sought after guy even since his young years, but still fresh from his wife's death, prefers to keep it to himself.

Used to live in London but returns to his hometown seeking for his family's assistance and company in raising little Gaspar.

Enjoys listening people playing the piano, watching the night sky, walks out in the early morning, board games, and listening to his sisters telling stories.

Fc: Gabriel Aubry

[comparativetarot]

Two of Cups. Art by Celeste Pille, from The American Renaissance Tarot.

The Marble Faun

“Our Two of Cups, inspired by Nathaniel Hawthorne's novel, The Marble Faun. Main character Donatello is compared to the Faun of Praxiteles (shown at right) throughout this dense, allegorical romance...his consort Miriam has a dark past always threatening to cloud the skies over their innocent tryst. But here they enjoy a fleeting moment in Arcady while a satyr pipes festively in the background...” — Thea Wirsching

[langdxn]

salvation part v: doomsday | outpost!michael x witch!reader

SUMMARY: The final confrontation between good and evil comes to its end. Will Michael survive?

WARNINGS: Angst. So. Much. Angst. Deaths, meddling with original timeline, a crying baby and a sneaky Xavier reference.

WORD COUNT: 1.6k

A/N: Strap yourselves in guys and dolls, the finale is here! I’ve adored this story since day one and your support has meant the absolute world to me, thank you to every single person who’s read, liked, reblogged and commented over the last few weeks. I may write an epilogue sometime but this is the end... for now.

part i | part ii | part iii | part iv

Michael stood frozen to the spot beside the birthing pool, staring intently at the space where his wife stood not seconds before.

His thoughts darted around frantically, trying to piece together what he had just witnessed. Desperately searching his memories for any hints over your years together, anything that could explain how you suddenly knew how to transmute.

She was a witch all along?

He shook his head aimlessly, dismissing his thoughts. He would’ve known, he must’ve known. He could sense every witch in the world, down to their last known location. You never once let on, in fact he never searched you for any suspicious activity because he had unquestionably trusted you ever since you first met. No spells could pass anywhere near him without his express knowledge, that’s just how his powers worked.

But you. You blocked everything. You placed a shield around you, an impenetrable curtain that kept out the Antichrist himself. There was only one explanation for you being able to subvert his powers.

You were more powerful than Michael Langdon. More powerful than the Alpha. More powerful than the Supreme. 

More powerful than Satan.

———

Miriam mewled peacefully in your arms, wiping her closed eyes with her tiny balled fists. Michael would do the same thing each and every morning, particularly if his alarm summoning him to another mundane Cooperative meeting invaded his dreamscape.

You hardly had time to process her arrival, your guiding light in the darkness finally making an appearance after nine exhausting months. Your legs could barely carry you, your body aching in places you didn’t know existed, your head faint and fuzzy as you lost more blood in the last few minutes than you ever had before. 

Your transmutation landed you in another unknown room in the endless corridors of Hawthorne, no indication of how far you’d travelled or even if you’d reappeared in a safe location. You hadn’t exactly had time to practice your spells over the years, there were more pressing matters at hand - the end of the world, for instance.

Spinning around in the room bathed in ominous yellow candlelight, you spotted a cluster of precarious tall pillar candles, a dark armoire in one corner and a plush velvet king-sized bed in another; crisp and tidy as if it hadn’t been slept in. Unleashing a sigh of relief at the seemingly peaceful atmosphere here, a metallic scent scorched the back of your throat. You made your way across the room to search what you assumed was the en-suite bathroom, but your stilettos slipped ungracefully on something wet beneath your feet. Clutching onto Miriam tightly, you regained balance and your gaze shot to your feet.

A gratuitous pool of fresh blood rippled beneath your heels. Perching Miriam on your knee, you crouched to dip a finger in the crimson liquid and your eyes rolled into your skull to initiate a vision.

A blonde woman in extravagant dress entered the chamber, ushering a masked, cloaked figure behind her. The woman dropped to her knees, grappling at the figure’s clothing. The figure removed their black mask to reveal a man’s weary features.

Brock.

“I know all about you, Coco,” he commanded. Tears pricked at your tear ducts as realisation hit - the scene you were reliving was the culmination of Brock’s arrival at the Outpost, what brought him to his death mere moments ago.

“Oh my god, Brock! How the fuck did you get in here? What happened to your face?” The woman scowled, examining his features.

“Radioactive fallout, cancer, cannibal attacks, infections that never heal,” he anxiously revealed.

“Oh honey, there wasn’t a minute in a day I didn’t think about you,” she pleaded with faux innocence. Coco protested weakly, tentatively grabbing his boil-ridden hand.

“I’m so happy,” she lied. “You’re back. You’re alive... you’re so angry.”

Without a blink, Brock sank his knife directly into her forehead, snarling as blood gushed from the wound almost instantly. Coco collapsed on the floor as the blood loss claimed her life, her eyes fixed open as crimson poured down her porcelain face.

“Happy Halloween, bitch,” Brock smirked.

Miriam’s disturbed cries bolted you back into the room, initiated by what sounded like raised voices in the corridors beyond the bedroom. You shushed the baby gently, a familiar, brash voice filling the silence left behind.

“Die again, fuck face!” Coco snapped from outside the bedroom door. Again?

You stepped quietly toward the door, pressing an ear to the wood.

“Normally that’d work,” Michael seethed at her, “but I’m nothing like normal.”

Anguished yelps, obscene squelching sounds of ripping wounds and the snapping of bones indicated Michael had indeed extinguished more threats to his survival.

This is it, you warned yourself. Time to step up. You paced to the bed and wrapped Miriam in its luxurious velour throws, planting a gentle kiss on your daughter’s forehead.

“Mommy will be right back for you baby, I promise. I have to go help daddy and you really won’t want to see this,” you cooed reassuringly, trying your hardest to communicate to a minutes-old baby that crying in this situation could threaten the safety of the world as you knew it. 

Placing a tender kiss on her impossibly small forehead, you burst out of the bedroom and clicked the heavy door shut behind you. A muttered incantation and a waved hand assured you nobody could reach your baby in your absence.

———

You scanned the golden corridors pointing in every direction, desperately hoping for a sign to point you towards your husband.

Catching a glimpse of Michael’s black boots stalking around a corner ahead of you, you paced gently behind him and tucked yourself into a doorway.

“How did you think this would end?” Michael scoffed, standing his ground in a marble doorway. “Prophecy is inevitable.”

“I was always going to win, Miss Supreme.”

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

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

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

A knife Michael clutched tightly suddenly floated away from him towards the Supreme.

“Satan has one son, but my sisters are legion, motherfucker.”

“Yes, I suppose we are, Cordelia,” you chimed.

The clacking of your stilettos shattered the silence between them as you took your place beside your husband, his jaw dropping as you entwined your fingers with his.

“Remember me, Ms Goode? Fourteen years ago, you begged me to come to Robichaux’s with you, hone my powers, discover my gifts, harness my talents... follow your lead.”

You cocked your head sarcastically, stepping forward to shield Michael in case the caped blonde lashed out at him in a last-ditch attempt.

“You knew I had potential even then. Your powers started to fade as soon as you stepped towards my house, you felt your dominance slipping through your fingers as soon as you laid eyes on me. The only reason you haven’t dropped dead already is because I refused to conform; to follow your lead; to shape myself into a perfect Cordelia carbon copy.”

Cordelia searched your face for answers, unable to comprehend a word. She was convinced she had won the battle and the war, as if the end of the world was as straightforward as good against evil. She stared at the dagger in her hand: helpless, powerless, alone.

“Go ahead, try it,” you tempted her. “See if sacrificing yourself will help your golden girl rise up. Don’t be surprised if it doesn’t work though, we both know tempus infinituum requires a potential Supreme to even make a half-assed attempt at it.”

“It would be a shame if the rising Supreme were... oh, I don’t know. Me?”

You raised a flat palm towards Cordelia, waggled your fingers in a facetious wave and a force compelled the Supreme to raise the knife in her hand, pointing to her chest.

“Ple-please, please don’t do this,” she wailed desperately as she stared at her hand moving without her consent, molten tears scorching her cheeks as the tip of the blade edged nearer her heart.

“Your sisters showed no mercy to Brock, Ms Mead, my husband. I don’t do mercy, Cordelia. I am the next Supreme.”

The blade slowly tore its way through her chest, a blood-curdling scream pouring from her ruby lips as she stumbled backwards, her eyes widening as she lost her footing and fell backwards to her death.

The shattering thud of Cordelia’s body hitting the bottom of the spiral staircase behind her commanded a stark silence. You gasped sharply as a bolt of energy burst through your chest, the bronze lights above you flickering wildly as they witnessed a transition of powers.

Michael’s boots clacked their way towards you and his arms snaked around your waist, turning you to face him as he leaned his forehead against yours. As his bloody fingertips gripped your hips reassuringly, an overwhelming relief tinged with amazement washed over his blood-splattered, exhausted face.

“Bitchin’ kill, babe. I call next.”

------

One final tag team! @codyfernmorelikedaddyfern​ @psychobitchtess​ @theinevitableprophecy​ @leatherduncan​ @abbyjforman​ @melodylangdon​ @shadyrindt​ @hplotrfan​ @littlegirlsdontplaynice​ @bluebirdbts​ 🖤🖤🖤

[so-langdon]

Possession - Michael Langdon x Fem! Reader

Summary: Michael gets jealous when seeing another Hawthorne student flirting with Y/N and reminds her who she belongs to.

Warnings: Story-line change, angst, swearing, foreplay/oral (both receiving), orgasm denial, possessive nature, spanking, light degradation, rough play, slightly mean! but hella dom! Michael, rough smut, fluff

Tagged!: @hecohansen31 , @gypsylilacs , @michaelsapostle , @rocketgirl2410 , @saltyshaggymeme , @ccodyfern , @langdonshell

The day Michael Langdon arrived at Hawthorne’s school for Warlocks is the day everything changed for him and Y/N. He showed up with Ariel, the Great Chancellor, dressed in a dirty sleeveless black tee, black jeans ripped at the knees and matching black boots. With a painful-looking bruise coating his upper left cheek, tussled blond curls, dreamy blue eyes, and smooth, plump lips, he appeared fragile and so obviously afraid and unaware of where this new world was going to take him.

He was brought in due to the fact that Ariel believed him to be the Alpha, a warlock that has power beyond comprehension and could exceed that of the witches and could maybe even complete the Seven Wonders.

With all Michael had been through with his caretaker Miriam Mead, the butcher, interrogation, and Ariel seeking him out, it was a lot of information to take in. It was completely overwhelming and caused Michael a lot of pressure and distress as this transition occurred, and in such a short amount of time too. It was no wonder Michael seemed so hesitant when first arriving to Hawthorne’s and being crowded around by all the student and Head Warlocks.

As for Y/N, she was the daughter of one of the Head Warlocks and stayed away from the crowd that circled Michael to not add to the craziness.

She was only twenty, the same age as most of the students at the school. Though she was their age, she had a superiority over all of them. Being the daughter of one of the Head Warlocks meant not only a special status since she was the only girl present, but meant she also had her own powers. She was just called a witch, rather than a warlock.

Growing up at the school with her father, she easily learned and gained control of her powers with his guidance and help. By the time of sixteen, she was far more superior than most of the boys at the school, reaching close in talent of the Head Warlocks.

This is when her father, and the other Head Warlocks had a meeting and granted Y/N the opportunity to help teach the boys at the school. Y/N wasn’t sure about the teaching at first, knowing she’d have to deal with all the students and their immaturity and who knows what else.

Most of the boys at the school had a crush on her, whether they acted on it or not. Y/N captivated practically every warlock that came through and not just because she was the only girl there. She was alluringly gorgeous, witty, but kind, yet never took anyone’s shit, and had an independence to her that only added to her attraction.

But Y/N never gave the time of day to any of the guys aside from helping them with their magic. She was never interested in any of them. Some of the warlocks were too shy or just knew better to not get involved with her. But some were a little too pushy and flirted too hard. But having her superior status made it easier for Y/N to call out a warlock and to show them “No means no.”

Aside from that, Y/N knew she’d enjoy helping the warlocks expand and grow their powers as she loved magic, and wanted to help out her father anyway. So she gave in, agreeing to help teach and had been a teacher ever since along with most of the guys leaving her alone as well, even though they were still always hopeful for a chance some day.

When Michael arrived, Y/N could only imagine how under pressure and overwhelming everything must have been to him. With the crowd dying down and clearing out eventually, Y/N introduced herself and offered to show him to his new room.

Y/N helped ease Michael into this new world of warlocks and magic the first few days, showing him around and answering any questions he had. Michael got the hang of things quickly enough, growing confident in his abilities as he gained control and growth of his powers at an accelerated rate.

From shy and apprehensive in the beginning, to intimidating and almost cocky. You’d never see Michael without a smug expression on his face. All the student warlocks began to avoid him as he was showing true potential in being the alpha and no one wanted to risk crossing him.

So while the Head Warlocks and Chancellor worshiped Michael, and the students feared or hated him, his self-assured attitude was prominent. But with Y/N, Michael was evidently sweet. Michael had been captivated by Y/N on that first day when meeting her just like all the other warlocks had been when first meeting her, forming a crush.

Michael had heard through the other guys to not even bother with Y/N as she never gave any one a chance and would never be interested. But deep down inside of him, Michael knew he had to have her in every way imaginable. And he wasn’t going to give up.

And when Michael had captured Y/N’s heart in the end, it made all the warlock students hate him if they didn’t already, or even more if they did. Jealousy and fear coincided when it came to Michael and the other student warlocks. But when it came to Y/N, then it was just love, adoration and affection.

But just because Y/N was taken now didn’t mean that some warlock students didn’t try to get her attention or flirt with her. They still very well tried, at least when Michael wasn’t around. 

It wasn’t Y/N’s fault, of course. Michael knew this, and didn’t blame her. It wasn’t her fault she was beautiful and enticing and grabbed all their attention. He knew he didn’t have to worry about her either as he knew how she felt for him and had no interest in anyone else. But this didn’t mean Michael didn’t get upset or angry when witnessing it. 

~

Michael glares angrily across the classroom as he leans against the door frame, arms crossed over his chest. He feels the blood boiling inside of him, steam radiating from his ears as he witnesses an all too friendly encounter before his eyes.

Michael had just entered Y/N’s classroom as all the warlocks had left for the day. He was supposed to meet Y/N in the library after lessons, but couldn’t wait another moment to see her as he hadn’t seen her since that morning. So he decided to meet her at her classroom. But he was surprised to find a Hawthorne student laughing with her as she smiled back at him.

Y/N’s smile was bright and dazzling as always, her eyes gleaming and fluttering over at the warlock, her laughter soft and sweet, causing a stir in anyone’s chest who heard her. Michael could tell the warlock had a crush on Y/N. Of course who didn’t at the school? But the way this student was obviously trying to flirt and charm her, it didn’t sit well with Michael.

Michael leans up and uncrosses his arms, taking a few steps in and waving a hand to shut the doors behind him. The loud slam of the doors notifies the other two in the room of his presence, immediately causing a fear to grow in the warlock boy as Y/N smiles over at Michael.

“Hey, what are you doing here,” Y/N asks, her tone pleasantly surprised over Michael's appearance. “I thought I was going to meet you in the library?”

“Thought I’d come see you a bit early,” Michael states, striding over, trying to keep his tone calm and collected as he gets closer. His eyes glance over to the warlock, making the boy visibly shrink back, looking like a cowering dog in fear.

“I-I should get going. Thanks for your help Y/N, I’ll see you in class next time,” the warlock student says quickly before rushing off, passing Michael and leaving the room for the two to be alone together.

Michael turns his head to watch the boy, making sure he leaves and the doors close behind him. Michael waves another hand, locking the doors to make sure no one else will be coming in and interrupting Michael and Y/N now. Michael looks back over at Y/N as she raises her eyes.

“Everything okay,” she wonders, sensing an off vibe with Michael. “Mhm,” Michael hums, starting to walk as he makes his way around Y/N’s desk. “Just coming to see you early since I missed you and I couldn’t bare another moment waiting for you.” Y/N smiles a bit, reaching her arms up and wrapping them around Michael’s neck as his arms wrap around her waist, pulling her to him and leaning in to give her a kiss. “I missed you, too. The day seemed to go on even longer when having to go over some incantations about Divination. No one can quite grasp that ability as well as I’d like them to.” “Well, I’m sure it’s difficult to get them to pay attention. I’m sure your students only focus on you, rather than anything else.” Y/N rolls her eyes but is still smiling. “They focus when I need them to. It’s just a difficult ability for anyone to master except you,” Y/N teases. Michael grins a bit and leans in again, kissing Y/N. He pulls her into his body more, wrapping an arm around her more securely, his other arm dropping as he reaches his hand up and cups Y/N’s cheek. He keeps his lips pressed to hers firmly, sliding his tongue into her mouth as he deepens the kiss. But Y/N pulls away, though she doesn’t want to, and bites her lip. “Before this gets.. too carried away,” she starts, “Let me finish cleaning up. Then we can head out.” “What’s the rush,” Michael asks, leaning in and placing a small kiss on her neck lightly before looking at her innocently. “We’re alone now. So what does it matter?” He leans in, placing another kiss on her neck, lingering longer. “I’m just kissing you anyway,” he mumbles against her, trailing a series of more kisses along her, making Y/N sigh contently. “Michael,” Y/N breathes out, unwrapping her arms from his neck and causing him to drop his arms from her as he looks at her. “As much as I’d like to, this isn’t the time or place for -- for this.” “And what is ‘this’?” Michael asks. Y/N hesitates but then shakes her head lightly. “I just know how you are.” “I’m not doing anything,” he gives her a questioning look. Y/N gives a teasing look. “I’m just simply trying to love you,” he says, tone becoming huskier, eyes seeming to darken. Y/N bites her lip again. “We’re in my classroom. Someone could walk in, I don’t know. It’s too risky.” “Doors are locked,” Michael states. Y/N stays quiet, contemplating on what Michael is hinting at. He always had an effect on her, could make her give in to anything if he really wanted. She was starting to become aware that this time would be no different as she really considered his implications. “Maybe if it were that other guy instead, you wouldn’t be as hesitant,” Michael suddenly says, a shift occurring in his behavior, a hint of bitterness to his tone. Y/N narrows her eyes, caught off guard by his words. “What? What are you talking about?” “That guy that was in here before I showed,” Michael clarifies. “Riley,” Y/N questions. “He was just asking me some questions about Divination,” she explains. “Really,” Michael hums. “Didn’t seem that way to me.” Y/N takes a step back, crossing her arms over her chest. “Well, it was. I don’t know what you’re trying to insinuate, but--” “I’m not trying to insinuate anything. I’m just speaking on behalf of what I witnessed myself which looked to be like some flirting to me.” “Are you serious right now, Michael? Like serious, serious? Or are you joking?” She raises her eyes. Michael clasps his hands behind his back, “I saw the way you laughed and smiled at him.” “He was just asking me some questions about the Divination spells today,” Y/N furrows her eyes a bit. “Nothing was going on.” “Are you sure about that? Because last I checked, Divination is an ability that requires your full focus and energy,” Michael states. “That didn’t look like it as you batted your eye-lashes and giggled,” Michael glares. Y/N laughs out, getting annoyed with Michael’s apparent lack of trust. “You’re being ridiculous. You know how I feel about you. You should know that nothing was going on between Riley and I.” “It just looked a little too friendly to me. Has he stayed after class before to ‘ask you questions,’ or is this the first time? I mean, he knows you're with me, doesn’t he? Or is he unaware of that fact?” Michael continues to glare. "Are you jealous,” Y/N asks, eyeing him carefully. “No,” Michael scowls, answering too quickly.  ”It’s okay if you are,” she assures, placing a hand on his arm. “I mean, I don’t want you feeling that way, but, you can talk to me about it.” ”I’m not jealous,” Michael frowns, pushing her hand off him. Y/N raises her eyes over his action. “Really? Because, that’s what it sounds like.” “Well I’m not. I’m just wondering why you seemed a little too friendly with that Ryan guy,” Michael states as casually as he can. “Riley,” she corrects. “Whatever,” Michael waves off, scowling again. “It seems like.. you might be a littttle jealous,” Y/N says, gesturing with her fingers. “And again, it’s okay if you are. Just be honest with me.” “I’m not fucking jealous,” Michael exclaims lightly. “I just don’t like that, that guy was throwing himself at you.” "He wasn’t throwing himself at me, and if for some reason he was, I wouldn’t have let him.” "Why are you defending him?” Michael asks, crossing his arms.  ”Why are you interrogating me,” Y/N asks. “You know you can trust me. Right?” Michael doesn’t say anything as he stares at her. Y/N rolls her eyes, not liking his silent reply. “Whatever. At this point, it sounds like you are jealous to me. But, that can’t be true since the Michael Langdon isn’t the jealous type apparently as you’re trying to show, right? You’re master of the universe, in the running to be the alpha. Why on earth would you need to be jealous,” she asks rhetorically, making Michael glare even more. “Guess you really do learn something new every day,” she says, almost taunting him. “You were the one that was smiling and laughing with him, it looked suspicious,” Michael states, voice growing angry. “Well fuck, you caught me then,” gesturing her arms out. “Clearly I was cheating on you because I smiled and laughed with another person that wasn’t you,” Y/N says sarcastically, voice raising. "You better be careful with how you speak to me,” Michael says, dropping his arms and taking a step to her. “No you better be careful, Michael,” she points. “I don’t have time for these childish games. I understand you have feelings, and they’re all validated. If you have a problem with Riley, or you’re upset over something you saw, that’s okay. But be honest and talk to me about it. Don’t start accusing and interrogating me like I’m guilty and have done something wrong, when I clearly haven’t. If you’re going to question me, then,” she shakes her head. “That’s your own problem and your own insecurity.” “My, my, don’t you have a mouth on you today,” Michael says impassively, head raising a bit. Y/N rolls her eyes again. “Has Riley experienced your mouth, too? Or just me?” Michael squints. “Fuck you, Michael,” Y/N glares back at him. “Where?” He takes another step closer to her. “Right here? Because I’d be happy to if you’d let me so I can put you back in your place.” “Back in my place?” Y/N laughs. “First of all, how dare you imply anything is going on between that guy and I when you know the truth. You’re basing your accusations on a two minute encounter.” Michael stares at her.  “But if you’re going to be so insistent that something is going on, even though I’ve told you repeatedly not just how I feel for you, but that nothing is going on, then maybe I should go start something with him. Make it a reality, since you don’t believe me anyway,” Y/N challenges, crossing her arms again. “You really don’t want to be testing me, sweetheart,” Michael grins innocently, but something different flickers behind his eyes, something darker. “No, you don’t want to be testing me, darling,” Y/N mocks back. “I know you’re powerful, but so am I, and I’ll--” “And you’ll what,” Michael interjects, grabbing her waist with an arm and pressing his body to hers as her hands grab onto his biceps. Y/N swallows, forcing herself to glare at him. “You’re not going to do anything to me, Michael. So don’t even try.” “Really? You don’t think I will?” Michael smirks. He leans over her as if he’ll kiss her, but then maneuvers his body to move Y/N to sit back at the edge of her desk a bit as she looks at him confused. “You want to test that theory?”

Y/N’s heart was pounding against her chest, a warmth flooding through her skin as she felt a surge of fire building in her lower stomach. The effect Michael always had on her was limitless, never-ending, never ceasing. But she refuses to acknowledge what Michael is doing to her in the moment, refusing to give in to his tactics as he knows he has an impact on her. “I don’t belong to you--”

Michael laughs lowly, “Oh, baby,” he grins, hand suddenly cupping her heat through her black skater skirt, making her breath hitch as she halts her words. “You are mine. Especially this,” Michael says, palming his hand against her teasingly. “This is mine,” he smiles. “All of you -- belongs to me. I was the first to claim you, and I will be the last. And if you want to challenge that, then be. My. Guest,” he pops each word at the end with a slight hiss and emphasis.

Y/N feels a tremble already starting in her body, the way Michael’s speaking to her, his hand on her, hardly even doing anything and making her mind forget about everything that isn’t Michael. Her mind clouds with the want and crave for him, wanting him to touch her more, to make her feel more, give her any little bit more than he is now.

“What? Can’t find anything to say back to me now? You were on fire just a minute ago,” Michael grins, sliding his hand away from her as he places both hands on either side of her on her desk to keep her in place as he leans over her a bit. “Cat got your tongue?” He speaks smoothly.

Y/N says nothing again, only letting out a shallow breath as she looks up at his eyes, the way they darken and seem to be full of lust.

“You are mine,” Michael repeats. “Now fucking turn around.” Y/N narrows her eyes at his sudden words, confused as to why he would ask her to turn. “Don’t make me ask you again,” Michael states, causing a shiver to run through Y/N’s core.

She turns around as he’s asked, still confused and now waiting for what Michael is going to do next. She feels Michael’s hands at the back of her waist, her skirt falling to the floor as he unzips the back, him pulling her underwear down a bit to expose her ass and making Y/N’s face flush a bit. Y/N steps out of her skirt as Michael pushes her gently forward to her desk, Michael kicking the article of clothing to the side. 

“Lean over,” Michael whispers in her ear, making another shiver run through her body in an exciting and curious way. Y/N hesitates a moment, asking, “Why?” Suddenly, Y/N yelps when Michael’s hand comes smacking down against her ass, catching her by surprise over. “Lean over,” he demands, tone more harsh. Y/N leans over her desk, laying her hands flat against it with her head still up, wanting to turn back to look at Michael to see what he’s doing or will do. But he gently pushes on her head, making her lay her head down on the side.

Y/N bites her lip when she feels Michael’s lips kiss against her ass, kissing one cheek and the other. 

“This ass is mine,” he says, a second later Y/N feeling a sharp smack of pain ring through her as Michael spanks her across the ass again and makes her yelp. “This,” Michael starts, pushing her underwear aside, sliding two of his fingers through her already wet folds and rubbing against her clit, making Y/N moan out, “is mine.” He slides his fingers from her clit, back through her folds and drops his hands. Y/N yelps again when Michael slaps his hand across her ass again. 

Michael grabs Y/N’s waist, pulling her to stand back up and making her turn around to look at him. Michael grabs her jaw, holding her in place. “This mouth,” he leans in, “is mine, too,” Michael seethes, glare showing on his face. “And it’s all for me.” He drops his hand. “Now get on your fucking knees,” he says, unbuckling his belt.

Y/N narrows her eyes, knowing what he’s going to have her do next. It wasn’t like she’d never gone down on Michael before. He’s just always been so sweet, gentle and loving. Affectionate and patient. Now, he was giving commands, and speaking in a low, harsher tone. It was all so new and different.

“Don’t make me repeat myself,” Michael adds, pulling the leather strap from the loops on the pants, folding the belt in his hands before tossing it aside so she knows he won’t be using the belt on her -- This time.

She was a little concerned about what Michael was going to be doing with her, considering this demanding, rough Michael was all new to her. But a brand new excitement began filling her to the core too, curious and interested in what he was going to have her do.

She kneels down onto the floor on her knees, eyes looking up at Michael innocently as she lowers to the ground. Michael looks down at her, a smug expression forming on his face.

“Well?” He speaks impatiently. “Go on already,” he gestures.

Y/N’s eyes fall to the outline of his erection in his pants. Her hands, slowly and a bit shaky raise to the top of his pants, undoing the zipper and pulling down on his pants and black briefs, releasing his hardening cock in front of her.

Y/N unconsciously licks her lips, seeing the size of him before her. Michael was never shy when it came to his body, and he had no reason to be, especially with his cock as it was massive. He was perfect, in every way it seemed. His cock was thick and heavy, long and pink, flushed a darker shade of pink at the head, a vein showing along the underside. Y/N’s mouth seemed to water over the sight, just as she always did.

Grabbing his length, she encircles her hand around him, adjusting her grip to fit before pumping her hand around him, feeling a bit apprehensive. She was still a bit shy when it came to these intimate acts, as she’d never done any of this until Michael came into her life. And this only drove Michael more crazy about her.

Y/N was feisty and sassy when she wanted to be, always having something witty or sarcastic to say when the time called for it, or snarky and snappy if someone brought it out of her. But then she was bashful and timid when it came to anything sex related. Nervous and hesitant, innocent and careful. But Michael was the one to corrupt her, to make her open up and explore her desires and sexual urges and feel that carnal pleasure while forgetting all about her shyness.

After pumping his length a few times, she brings the tip of his fully hard cock to her mouth, probing her tongue out to lick over the slit of his head. Michael hisses a bit, his breath hitching when he feels the touch of her warm tongue against him. He ruts forward, wanting more from her.

Y/N opens her mouth wider, bringing him to her mouth more as she encloses her lips around his head, sucking in for a bit before taking him further. She swirls her tongue around him, coating his cock with her saliva and making him groan in the process.

Then suddenly, Michael grips Y/N’s hair in his fist, yanking her back off his cock and to fall back onto her ass as she looks up at him with narrowed eyes.

“You know I love your mouth on me in any way,” Michael smiles. “But if you keep up with that teasing shit,” he glares, “you’re going to regret it. So get back on your knees and suck my cock like the good whore you are,” Michael hisses.

Y/N’s taken aback by Michael’s behavior. This was no sensual, or sweet kind of loving. Michael was presenting to her a whole new side of him, and maybe a new side of her too since she could feel herself how turned on she was getting from his rough actions and words.

Kneeling back on her knees and ignoring the hard wood floor that makes her knees ache a bit, she grabs Michael’s cock, looking up at him. He looks down at her as if he’s saying, “I’m waiting.”

She brings his cock back to her lips, bringing him as far into her mouth as she can while her hand wraps around the shaft of him she can’t reach. She starts with a slow pull -- out of habit -- but then sucks hard, bobbing her head up and down, picking up pace as Michael’s demanded.

Her hand follows up and down with her mouth, her hand twisting carefully around him as she moves. Michael places a hand on her head, gripping her hair, making Y/N think he’s gonna yank her off him again. But he’s just grabbing hold of her to keep himself steady.

Michael’s moans are prominent, loud and deep, loving the way Y/N’s mouth feels around him. “Fuck,” Michael moans out as he watches the way her head moves on him. “Your mouth was made just to suck my cock,” he breathes out, his eyes fluttering closed.

Y/N uses her other hand to cradle his balls gently, massaging and rolling them in her hand softly, adding to the pleasure that Michael was feeling. “Shit, just like that,” Michael moans again, opening his eyes and looking down at Y/N. His hand gripping her hair lets go as he places his hand steadily on her head. He pushes her forward, making Y/N take more of him into her mouth, making Y/N choke a bit from being caught off guard and needing to pull back so she wouldn’t choke.

“Don’t you dare fucking stop or pull back,” Michael grits. “You keep going until you swallow every last drop of me,” Michael breathes out, pushing his hand on her more so he fills her mouth and throat completely with his length, and moving her head on him to go faster as she tries to maintain her composure to not continue to choke on him, or stop.

Y/N was still in disbelief over Michael’s rough actions. The force of pushing more of Michael’s cock into her mouth surprised her since she wasn’t expecting it. But the arousal she felt pooling between her thighs showed how into it she was.

Michael continued to push down on her head, helping her to move faster and further as she sucked, swirled her tongue and hummed against him. Y/N managed to adjust to the size, feeling the way he twitched and pulsed inside of her mouth and into her throat as she moved her head up and down on him all the while she felt herself becoming more aroused by the second.

When Michael cums in the next moments, he doesn’t warn her, Y/N’s eyes widening a bit over the surprise and choking back lightly again. But she swallows every bit and sucks him off until he finishes, listening to his commands and wanting to please him, making sure she’s swallowed every last drop as he told her.

She seems to be waiting as she looks up at him after, remaining in place, licking over her lips as she can still taste him on her tongue, waiting for his next move.

“What? You want me to praise you?” Michael laughs lowly as he puts himself away back into his pants. “Tell you that you did a good job?” Y/N shrinks back a bit but doesn’t say anything.  ”Get up.” Michael leans over, grabbing her hand and pulls her to stand up. “We’re not even close to being done.”

Michael proceeds to finish undressing Y/N then, removing the final pieces of clothing from her until she’s bare in front of him. Y/N could obviously do this herself, but Michael got a thrill whenever he got to do it for her, always wanting to be the one to undress her.

Though this time in particular he was turning it into a game of sorts. Taking every bit of clothing off her at a slow pace, very obviously taking his time, arrogant smile showing on his face, bringing her taunting agony as she felt the light and fluttering touches of his fingers and hands against her as he undressed her. 

Michael made it a point to touch her body alongside removing her clothing, touching her everywhere but where he knew she liked it. Hands fluttering along her waist, down the valley of her breasts only. Hands brushing against the side of her body, down against her ass, never near her core, never where she really wanted him, consistently teasing her. It only worked Y/N up more, made her heart beat faster against her chest and caused her breathing to become more shallow as the impatience grew inside of her.

When she’s fully naked in front of him, he pushes her backward, making her sit back on the edge of her desk again, her looking at him with her doe-like eyes. Michael steps over, nudging her legs apart with his knees. Y/N bites her lip, watching as Michael’s hand reaches closer to her heat.

“This is what you want, right,” Michael grins, rubbing his fingers against her heat. Y/N breathes out, trying to contain her composure as he touches her, trying not to give in so easily and show how desperate she was for his touch.

“You’re already so fucking wet,” Michael laughs almost condescendingly as he gathers her wetness along his fingers. “And all because I spanked you a few times and you sucked my cock?” He slicks his fingers through her folds and to her clit, rubbing a circle against her, making Y/N whine a bit, closing her eyes.

“Lay back,” Michael says, pulling his hand away. Y/N opens her eyes, looking at Michael almost pouting from the lack of touch. But she listens without hesitation, sitting back more on her desk and laying back. She lays down, her legs hanging over and looks up at the ceiling.

Michael lifts her knees, placing them around his shoulders as he kneels down and hooks his arms under her legs. Y/N lifts her head as she looks down at Michael.

“Unless it’s my name leaving your mouth, I don’t want to hear a sound from you,” Michael says, a sinister expression showing on his face as he lowers his head down between her thighs.

Y/N looks down at Michael agape, wanting to speak back to him. But she can’t when she feels his lips immediately enclose around her clit, sucking hard and making her head lean back in a gasp.

She almost lets out a loud moan, breathing out at the intense pleasure Michael is already making her feel, not giving her any time to adjust as her body jolts from the sensitivity. But Michael’s words flow through her mind, causing Y/N to let out a moan in the expression of his name.

“No one will ever be able to make you feel as good as I can,” Michael hisses against her, kissing along her inner thighs for a moment, then kissing against her core before enclosing his lips around her clit again.

Y/N repeats Michael’s name a series of times as he licks and sucks at her clit, it seeming like Y/N was chanting his name. Michael could feel himself becoming turned on again as he heard her moaning his name consistently, knowing how good he was making her feel, knowing just where and how she liked to be touched like this.

When Michael swirls his tongue around her clit, swiping his tongue back and forth against her, Y/N accidentally forgets Michael’s rule. “Oh fuck,” she moans out after, the pleasure erupting in her mind and core as she felt a deep build inside her, not even realizing what she’s done as she grips his hair unconsciously.

Michael stops instantly, leaning back and standing up from kneeling as he looks over at Y/N. She looks over at him, narrowing her eyes confused, but then tightens her eyes shut when she realizes she made noise that wasn’t his name.

“What did I fucking say, Y/N?” Michael hisses. “I told you, if it’s not my name, I don’t want to fucking hear it.” “I forgot, it just slipped out,” Y/N pleads, opening her eyes and sitting up a bit with her elbows. “Please Michael, I’m sorry. I’ll remember next time.” “You don’t get a second chance. I fucking told you,” Michael states, but fingers trailing against her inner thigh. “But you didn’t listen.” His fingers brush against her heat, his finger sliding against her folds, to her clit and back down until he pushes a finger inside of her. Y/N moans out, closing her eyes. “I gave you one fucking rule. One simple fucking task,” Michael states, pumping his finger inside of her and curling it. “But you couldn’t even do that.” He adds a second finger, pumping his fingers quicker inside of her. “If you had listened, you would have been rewarded, honestly. You’ve been doing so good so far, listening and pleasing me.” He curls his fingers, adjusting his hand to where his thumb rubs against her clit. Y/N whimpers, feeling that same deep build inside her moments earlier. “But, you fucked it all up,” Michael says nonchalantly. Michael continues to pump his fingers faster, curling them and rubbing against her clit harder and faster too. Y/N grabs onto Michael’s forearm, holding onto him to steady her as she feels the deep pressure beginning to unhinge. “Therefore,” Michael begins. “You don’t get to cum.” He takes his hand away suddenly, knowing how close she was, making Y/N whimper and whine, looking at Michael with another pout as he smirks over at her. “If you want to cum, you better fucking earn it.” Y/N narrows her eyes, not understanding what that means.

Michael suddenly brings her to stand up. Grabbing her waist and pulling her into his body, he kisses her furiously, sliding his tongue through and causing an uproar of sensations to spread through their bodies. 

“When I’m done with you, you’ll never forget who you belong to,” Michael whispers against her lips when he pulls back a bit and turns her back around. He bends her over like earlier, her chest pressing against the desk, Michael placing a hand on her head to keep her facing away. 

Y/N waits for his next move, hearing the fabric of his clothing falling to the floor as he begins to undress himself. Y/N sucks in a breath, waiting impatiently for Michael to have his way with her, to give her all of him as she gives him all of her. The way Michael was acting with her was so new and different, and she couldn’t wait for his next move.

“You belong to me,” Michael hisses, gripping her waist as he aligns himself up with her from behind. Grabbing his fully hard again cock, he rubs himself against her wet entrance, making her whimper a bit. “And you always will,” he adds, pushing himself into Y/N in the next second, making Y/N moan out loudly, leaning her head forward against the desk as she feels him filling her up. It was always so good, so intense and overwhelming, feeling him stretch her out when he filled her.

Michael doesn’t allow Y/N anytime to adjust to the sudden thrusting and overflow of feelings, wanting her to feel all of him completely as he starts moving with her. He begins to fuck into her thoroughly, causing a series of pleasured sensitivity to grow deep inside of Y/N.

Michael grips her hips tightly, holding her in place, pushing deeper inside of her, quickening his movements as the seconds pass. Pushing harder and more intensely, the sounds of skin slapping against together mixing with their heavy breathing and panting.

Y/N exhales out, gripping the edge of the desk in front of her. She moves her body to move back against Michael, wanting to feel as much of him as she can. Michael thrusts deeper in her, taking her movements as cues. 

“Oh fuck,” Y/N moans, biting on her lip to try and remain as quiet as she can as she knows there are people in the school that could be hearing them. 

Michael slaps her ass harshly, making Y/N call out in the mix of a yelp and moan. “Don’t you fucking dare hold back,” Michael hisses. “You go ahead and fucking scream. Let everyone here know how good I fuck you,” he adds, slapping against her ass again and harder, making another yelp leave her mouth as she feels the stinging ring through her so good, so deeply.

Michael’s words turn Y/N on, and though she’d be embarrassed if anyone were to hear or catch them, there’s still a thrill to it too. The arousal from the thrill distracts her, making her hushed whimpers and moans come out in full volume.

“Show everyone you really do belong to me,” Michael groans, keeping his pace consistent, sliding a hand from gripping her hips to the front of her and down to her clit. He begins rubbing against her, making Y/N close her eyes, whimpering pleasurably as he circles his fingers along her clit. 

“Oh God, yes, Michael,” she moans, breathing getting more heavy, feeling the coil build in her body.

“You think that fucking warlock would ever make you feel like I’m making you feel now? Could ever make you scream and shake like you are right now?” Michael rubs harder against her clit, circling his fingers around her fiercely as he thrusts into her deeply.

“O-Oh fuck,” Y/N moans out, biting her lip as she feels the build growing inside her. “I’m -- I’m so clos--”

“Don’t even think about cumming yet,” Michael hisses, glaring from behind and slapping her ass again with his other hand before gripping her hips again. “You fucking ask me first. You earn it,” he states, still rubbing his fingers against her clit, thrusting deep and hard into her, other hand gripping her hip harshly.  Y/N whines, “Michael, please.” “Beg for it,” Michael exhales, gripping her hair in a fist, making her gasp as her head lifts up a bit. “Or I’ll fucking stop.” Y/N whimpers, trying to hold back on the build she feels, the coil springing tighter and tighter as Michael overwhelms her with all the pleasure. “Please Michael, I’m -- fuck -- please, let me cum,” she moans out. From the way he feels pumping in and out of her, his fingers against her clit, him grabbing her hair, the way he’s speaking to her. She’s not sure how long she’ll be able to last at this point. Michael can feel his own release building, feeling how she’s beginning to contract around him, the warmth and wetness of her around him making him moan out. “Who fucking owns you?” Michael asks, holding back on his release as he thrusts into her faster.  ”You do,” she breathes out. ”I said, who fucking owns you,” he asks louder, pulling out farther for a moment and thrusting intensely back into her, his grip on her tightening more so, making her moan out loudly. ”Fuck, you do, Michael,” she exclaims. “You do, you fucking own me,” she exhales.  “Who makes you feel this good,” Michael breathes out. “You do -- fuck -- no one will ever make me feel as good as you, never,” she bites her lip. “You own all of me,” she adds. “No one will ever be able to make you cum as hard as I can,” Michael moans, knowing he can’t hold back another second and knowing how close Y/N is too. “F--Fuck. You can let go baby,” Michael groans, the build up inside of him letting go as his fingers rub fervently over her clit as he cums.

Y/N breathes out with relief, her body tensing and unhinging as she begins to cum, the pleasure inside of her causing her body to begin to shake and jolt as ripples of pleasure flood through her.

Michael continues to thrust into her, his movements becoming more sloppy and slow as he finishes, coming to a gradual stop as he breathes out heavily, taking a moment to let his breathing slow down.

Y/N takes a minute to calm down herself, feeling her body still shake against Michael’s as her own shallow breathing returns to normal. Michael pushes his somewhat damp curls out of his face, and leans over to kiss the back of her shoulder, letting his lips linger for a few extra seconds. He pushes himself to stand up up straight after, removing himself from Y/N and to give her space to stand.

Y/N flattens her hands against the desk, taking a deep breath and pushing herself slowly to stand up too, turning around. Michael steps to the side, grabbing his blazer and stepping back to Y/N, wrapping the blazer around her shoulders to cover her up, knowing she’s more shy being exposed in front of him than he is.

Y/N smiles a bit as he covers her, knowing that even though he was just rough with her, his sweet and caring side still remains inside him too. She pulls on the front of the blazer tighter, appreciating the gesture as she looks at him.

“Thanks,” she says quietly.

Michael looks over at her carefully, studying her expression to make sure she’s okay. He looks her up and down, finding her as gorgeous and cute as ever, especially with how she stands shyly in his blazer, the fabric looking too big on her as it covers her. He can’t help but smile a bit.

“What,” Y/N asks, noticing his expression.

“Nothing,” he shakes his head. “I just, love you. A lot,” he says softly. 

Y/N smiles, feeling her heart flutter over his words. Smug and arrogant, and apparently rough and harsh with her sometimes (according to prior moments), but he was still the same sweet guy she fell in love with. Seeing the way he looked at her with adoration and spoke such simple but loving words to her. She still couldn’t wrap her mind around the fact that he was hers.

“So, did you learn your lesson?” He asks next teasingly. She raises her eyes. “Learn my lesson? “You belong to me, and you seemed to forget that earlier with that warlock,” he points out. “I had to remind you. So yes, your lesson,” he grins. “I never forgot, Michael,” she states. “I’d never forget that. You know I love you, too.” She pauses. “Don’t you?” Michael hesitates a second, but then cups her cheek gently. He nods. “Yes. I do. I know you do. I just, still worry sometimes. About losing you. I never want to lose you to anyone, for any reason.” “You never will. I’m all yours,” Y/N assures, covering his hand on her cheek with hers. “And if I wasn’t sure for some reason before, all that we just did reminded me,” she jokes. Michael laughs a bit. “That was okay, right? I mean, you’re okay?” Y/N smiles over his concern, nodding. “Yes. I’m fine. I’m good,” she clarifies. “It was different, but good. I mean, I liked it. Or whatever, you know,” she shakes her head, feeling the heat in her cheeks. “Just checking,” Michael smirks. “But, I could tell you liked it. I felt it,” he teases. “Shut up,” she pushes his shoulder playfully, flushing a bit.  Michael laughs a bit and leans in, kissing her. “Just never forget, you’re mine.” “And you’re mine, Michael Langdon,” Y/N smiles, grabbing Michael’s face gently and kissing him again, causing Michael to smile into the kiss, wrapping his arms around her for an eternity.

~

A/N: All feedback is much appreciated! Thank you for reading <3

[ladynuwanda]

Whatever Souls Are Made Of (Michael LangdonXMallory AU) - Epilogue

A/N: Now the conclusion to this story. This might be my fanfiction writing Swan Song, so I’d like to thank everyone who’s been around through any bit of these past 16 months. This is for you! <3

Warnings: Again, I think none. Let’s just tie the loose ends in a pretty little bow, shall we?!

Word Count: 1,4K

“There was no consolation for poor Mallory after that... She could not look down to this floor, but his features would be shaped on the flags! In every cloud, in every tree... filling the air at night, and caught by glimpses in every object by day, she was surrounded with his image! The most ordinary faces of men and women, even her own features, mocked her with a resemblance. The entire world was a dreadful collection of memoranda that he had existed, and that she had lost him!”

“What happened to the other inhabitants of Thrushcross... I mean Hawthorne Grange?”, Emily seemed uncomfortable with the uncertainty of the events that could have taken place in her new home, before she came around. “We found Thrushcross Grange entirely empty in the wake of the massacre”, Misty said simply, “we assume Lady Mead had run away again, and probably relieved the servants from their duties”. “How can you be certain that she didn’t kill them all?”, Timothy seemed to be expecting almost anything from the lady he had never met, only judging by the story he had just heard. “The only corpse that was left behind was the Governess’s, Wilhelmina Venable. Apparently the two ladies didn’t get along as well as they’d want us to believe”, an unusually bitter grin crossed Misty’s lips at the thought.

But whatever it was that each of them could be thinking, after the truth had been brought to the surface one more time, was interrupted by the sound of a piercing cry coming from upstairs. Kyle Spencer rushed into the room in a few moments, eyes wide and breathing heavily “Miss Day! Come quick! It’s Lady Mallory!”, he managed to spurt out the words between agonised gasps, and left again. Timothy and Emily stood up, like they had been called as well, like there was anything at all that they could do to help, whatever emergency it might be. But Misty was already walking out of the room, an unreadable expression on her face as she followed Mister Spencer “That was not Mallory’s voice”, her own voice was weak and Misty herself felt lost in a dream.

The three of them went to the room the young couple had been occupying earlier that night, and found a woman standing in front of the shattered window looking down. “Cordelia?”, Misty’s voice was barely more than a whisper but the woman turned around immediately. Without a second thought, Lady Cordelia threw herself into her paramour’s arms and kissed Misty passionately. “How’s it possible?”, happy tears were falling from Misty’s eyes as she lovingly touched her lover’s face and hair. “Mallory. She performed a Reverse Sacred Taking. I had heard about it, I knew it was possible, but it had never been done by any Supreme in the entire history of the Coven.”, Cordelia smiled and cried at the same time. And still in a state of disbelieving daze, she explained that Mallory had sacrificed herself to give full power to the next Supreme before a new Supreme had risen. Mallory had performed a Descensum at the same time, and brought Cordelia back from the Underworld, in a last effort to make things right.

They looked down from what was left of the window, Mallory’s ruined body was on the ground bellow, one hand still clutching the hilt of the silver ceremonial dagger that she had stabbed her own heart with, before going through the window. Kyle Spencer was leaning over the body of the late Supreme, unaware of what her gesture had made happen, only regretting that he wasn’t able to protect her from her own despair. A delicate figure with long hair approached him slowly, and gently placed a comforting hand on his shoulder. Kyle took the hand that was offered and looked around to see who with was, to find Zoe Benson staring back at him. She had tears of joy in her eyes and the sweetest smile on her lips. Standing up, he pulled her to himself, and kissed her like nothing else mattered. He wouldn’t even bother to find out how this miracle was possible, he just wanted to hold her tight and never let her go again.

All around the Manor, the witches that had been massacred on that doomed day, when Michael died, were coming back to life where day had fallen. It was a miracle, indeed, and none of them would bother to understand it yet. They were just happy to be reunited with the sisters they thought had been lost for eternity. Madison and Zoe were finally able to put their differences aside and share a sincere sisterly embrace, but Coco St. Pierre Vanderbilt simply stood still next to Mallory’s body, staring in disbelief at who was now the only fallen witch. “It was the price to reverse the evil that was made that day. And she gladly payed for it.”, it was Myrtle Snow’s voice carrying wisdom, enlightening the others on what Mallory’s plan might have been, “Delia. My dear child... you’re alive!”, and Lady Cordelia responded by wrapping her mentor in a warm embrace, finally reunited with the one who had been the closest thing she ever had to a mother.

Mallory’s sacrifice was the start of a long period of peace and prosperity to the Coven, which lead everyone to believe that, wherever they were, Mallory and Michael were together and happy at long last. There was no place for the star-crossed lovers in this world, but they would always find each other. Even in the afterlife. The peace and prosperity of the Coven extended to its tenants in the Grange, as well. The night they had spent in the Manor forged a bond of friendship between the young couple and their neighbours. The school was reopened, the witches had much to teach, and new students would arrive often. The next Autumn, Emily announced they were expecting their first child. And in early August, the following year, they welcomed a healthy baby boy they named Devan.

Devan was generally a good natured-child. He was incredibly clever and charming from a very early age, and the entire Coven considered itself his Godmothers. He was always welcome in the Manor to play with the younger witches, and there would be a tray of his favourite cake waiting for him whenever he went there. Timothy and Emily worried about how spoiled their child could be when they had Witch Godmothers looking after him. But it was only when he started to develop some unusual pastimes that they really had reasons to worry. They were standing in the animal shed of the Grange, looking at the butchered parts of what had been all the goats they’d had, and the innocent looking face of their blood-smeared child. It was hard for them to decide what the appropriate punishment could be when Devan didn’t even seem to understand he had done something wrong. “It feels like I’ve been waiting my whole life for this”, it was the voice of a strange woman, a sturdy lady that had approached the animal shed without being noticed. She was beaming benevolently at the scene before her, but there was a devilish glint to her green eyes, “my name is Miriam Mead, I’m here to help.”

Taglist: @angel-langdon @blakewaterxx @burn-thevvitch @ccodyfern @certifiedmoth @consultingsnowqueen @crossdressingpirate-deactivated @ghostwithangeleyes @hecohansen31 @kalam22 @lathraios @laying-with-the-devil @michael-langdon-appreciation @mvllorylvngdon @mytrash-mylife @nuke-em-from-orbit @psychobitchtess @queen-of-quotes @rocketgirl2410 @rosegoldrichie  @suspirateux @tayfinities @touch-in-the-night @wvntersldr @xavierplympton

[dillion-langdon]

I Fell out of Heaven to be with You in Hell Part 1

Michael x Reader, soon to be Sub!Michael x Reader

Summary: Reader reflects on how Miriam introduces you to Michael Langdon and how your whole relationship began. 

Warnings: just a ridiculous amount of fluff, for now. The next chapter will be pure smut and sub!Michael and generally just a lot of hot, passionate sex. This is just setting the stage for endless amounts of fluff and for a slow burn.

Word count: 2K

Michael Langdon.

That name seemed to be everywhere to you. Each vowel reverberating deep inside of your soul, as if your body was hollow. That name was all you could ever think about now. Saying it out loud gave you chills, but in a good way. A warm spark of electricity shooting throughout your whole being. Ever since you laid your eyes on that young man who lived down the street, he was all you could ever think about.

When Miriam, one of your neighbours and close friend, introduced you to him, it felt like a ton of bricks dropped into your stomach. As soon as you saw him, you knew. It was like everything that happened in your life, all the trauma and failure and heartbreak, was leading you up to this point. You were meant to meet this person and you weren’t really sure why, but all you knew was that Michael Langdon was special and he was suppose to be in your life.

One warm, fall day when you were walking home from the grocery store, Miriam’s car drove past you and pulled up into her driveway. You noticed someone tall and slender sitting in the passenger seat and thought this was odd, as Miriam lived alone. She did happen to kill her first three husbands, however this man was young, and quite handsome from what you could tell through the windshield window. As soon the car stopped, Miriam turned in the driver seat to look at you and beamed. She got out and started moving towards you with outstretched arms.

“(Y/N)! I want you to meet someone.”

Your attention turned back to the car and there he was, standing behind it and staring.

Staring right at you.

The look on his face was exactly how you felt. You felt suddenly overwhelmed with emotion and shock. In a holy-shit kind of way. His eyes were deeply hooded and a light blue; they were intense, yet soft and the way they stared at you felt like they were boring holes into your soul. Your mouth fell open and you shuddered. The two of you just stood there for a few full seconds, eyes locked onto each other. It was mesmerizing.

You were soon brought back to reality when Miriam brought you into a warm embrace.  You broke eye contact with him and gave Miriam a soft peck on the cheek as you hugged her back. As you had your head over her shoulder you quickly glanced back up to him. He was still looking at you.

He gave you a sheepish smile and you nearly melted. Who was this guy?

“Michael, come over here,” Miriam beckoned him over, “Don’t be shy! This is (Y/N), she just lives down the street from us. She’s the one I’ve been telling you about.”

She talked to him about me, you wondered to yourself.

Miriam looked back to you, still smiling and said, “(Y/N), this is Michael Langdon. He’s the Antichrist.” Her smile broadened and eyes lit up at the word.

Over the past few months, over your coffee dates with Miriam, she would share to you how her and the Church of Satan were navigating the whereabouts of the Antichrist. You were never a Satanist per say, but you always held stock to whatever Miriam said and found the subject quite fascinating. You just never thought they would find him or if they did, he’d be a sham of some sort. Never did you consider he would be real nor someone like Michael.

Your eyes widened. As he made his way over he shyly waved his hand and said, “Ms. Mead, stop. It’s not that big of a deal.” His voice was angelic and youthful.

Obviously feeling shy, he shoved his hands into his pockets and looked down at his boots. As he stood beside Miriam, the height difference was incredible. He was clearly a good foot taller than her. Almost as if you were a puppet and someone was pulling your strings, you automatically held out your hand.

“Hi, Michael.” Still looking down, he quickly grabbed your hand to shake it. A jolt of energy shot through your arm and you nearly jumped. He felt it too because he looked up at you and your eyes met, once again. This time they were much softer and you sensed a strong familiarity to them. You felt drunk and everything seemed to go hazy. Butterflies erupted in your stomach and you couldn’t help but gawk at him. He was truly handsome.

Goddamm.

“Do you wanna come inside for some coffee?” Miriam asked, interrupting you and Michael’s moment. The both of you snapped out of it and you nodded. Taking your groceries home can wait, you had a different agenda now, and that was to find out more about this beautiful man that stood before you. You felt like you had no control of the situation and that you had to go inside, like something was pulling you down this wonderful, new winding path.

You followed them inside and to your surprise, Michael offered to carry your bags in. You handed them over and silently thanked yourself for doing your makeup before you left the house today.

That afternoon, as the three of you sat at the kitchen table and chatted, Michael’s gaze never left you. You could sense that Miriam was aware of this and somehow wanted it to happen? Was this what she wanted all along? It wasn’t until later in your relationship with Michael that you found out—that yes, she indeed wanted Michael to date you and it was her full intention to hook you two up.

As the conversation went on, for hours that is, you could feel Michael warming up to you. When Miriam shared how Michael came to be and mentioned Constance, you noticed Michael’s expression changed. His eyes flickered dark and his demeanor shriveled. He was still wounded, and deeply. Miriam quickly changed the subject as she knew this was still a tender spot for him and you could tell he was grateful.

When Miriam started talking about Hawthorn School for Exceptional Young Men, and how they had plans to get him enrolled,  you swore you felt Michael’s foot slide in between yours. You looked at him and he gave you another one of his sheepish smiles. He was flirting with you!

Your heart started to race and you panicked, “I should really get home. I have a college paper to write,” you managed to sputter out. You stood up so fast the chair squeaked; Michael followed suit.

“Oh,” Miriam looked at you, then up at Michael, “well we don’t want you to get behind your studies.” She gestured to Michael and said, “Michael, why don’t you walk (Y/N) home?” The two of you started to move when she added, “Oh, and don’t forget her groceries!”

The two of you left the house, with Michael having your bags in tow. It was already passed 7 p.m. and the sky was dusky with shades of pink and orange. You honestly never felt more nervous in your life. All of a sudden you came aware of every flaw and article of clothing you wore, and started to tug and pull at your outfit. The butterflies erupted again and you had a lump stuck in your throat. Your palms were sweaty and started to hurt. You were usually a confident person but Michael Langdon rendered you into a puddle.

You and Michael walked shoulder to shoulder and he was careful to follow your stride. Despite being a nervous wreck, you felt oddly at ease with him. The both of you were quiet and continued to walk to your door in comfortable, yet romantically awkward silence.

You felt the beat of your heart quicken as the pair of you reached your door. Your palms throbbed with anxiety. What was going to happen now? Was he going to kiss you? Should you just shake his hand? Maybe not, your palms were awfully sweaty. Your mind raced on what to do next.

He sat your bags down and turned to face you. You realized you forgot to leave the front door light on, but that didn’t matter. You were too nervous to care and too focused on the beautiful boy in front of you. You admired how his hair effortlessly framed his face and how his jawline went for days up into his blond curls.

“Well,” he nervously sighed, “I guess this is you.”

“Yep.” You awkwardly stated.

The both of you stood there for what seemed like hours, as you both anticipated what was going to happen next.

“Um-uh, listen—,” you began but he hastily cut you off.

“Do you wanna go out with me?” He blurted out loudly.

You were stunned. That sentence seemed to ring through your ears.

He quickly added, “I mean—like on a date. If you want.”

“Absolutely!” Your heart was singing. Even though your intuition was guiding you through the whole thing, you couldn’t believe it. Relief and joy washed over you.

He beamed and it was honestly the cutest thing ever. He looked so much like a lost puppy who just found its owner. And that owner was you.

A sudden realization washed over you both as you realized what must happen next. He took a step forward and you could feel the warmth of his body enclose on you, and he asked, “Is it okay if I kiss you goodnight?”

You gulped and nodded.

Holy fuck.

All of a sudden he was towering over you and you felt a broad hand cup your chin. That same flushed energy sparked up into your head with a rush of endorphins as his large, supple lips softly met yours. It was gentle yet firm all at the same time. Without using any tongue, he slightly parted his lips and let the heat of his breath enter you. It was so heady and inebriating, you felt dizzy as your head swam with his affection. The kiss only lasted several seconds but it might as well been eons. You never felt so lost inside of another person, so encompassed with them.

When you two finally pulled away from one another, Michael looked ecstatic. His normally bright blue eyes were darkened, his pupils dilated. For some reason, deep down you knew this was his first kiss.

“You’re a pretty good kisser for someone who never has done it before,” you added. You don’t know what or who made you said it, but you did. His face flushed a deep crimson and he chuckled, scratching the back of his head nervously.

“Uh-yeah,” he shoved his hands in his pocket again and started to shuffle his feet, looking down. “But I’m really glad it was you,” he tenderly added. He met your eyes again for the what seemed like the millionth time that day and they still bore those holes into your soul. There was such a subtly to them and you can tell he was being genuine. He really meant it.

“I’ll text your mom—,” you stopped yourself, “I mean, Miriam, for your number.” You quickly added and you both laughed, knowing full well Miriam was not his biological mother. “Then we can set up a place and time?”

He nodded.

“Sure. You have a goodnight, (Y/N).” He started to walk away, grinning to himself like an idiot. He was glowing and so were you.

As he was half way down the pathway, he stopped, turned to you and said something so profound, only you could understand it. It was like striking a nail onto the coffin. His eyes met yours for the last time that evening and he said, with utmost certainty:

“(Y/N),” you looked at him, “I fell out of Heaven to be with you in Hell.”

[sweetlangdon]

From Eden: Chapter 8

Notes: Michael Langdon x Reader/OC. Evil Power Couple fic. It’s difficult to write a summary for this one, because I don’t want to give away the twists. (It’ll also include canon rewrite/divergence for the later half of the season.) It has plenty of angst and fluff, and a bit of character study.

Warnings: Swearing, blood, murder, graphic violence. Very brief mention of suicidal thoughts. There’s a lot of angst in this chapter. 

Chapter One     Chapter Two    Chapter Three     Chapter Four    Chapter Five   Chapter Six      Chapter Seven     Also Available on AO3

The blood ritual at the Cortez had left her physically and emotionally drained—Michael had guided her home, both of them tripping on unsteady legs, their bodies heavy like they’d been weighed down with stones, feeling an exhaustion they couldn’t quite name. She hadn’t wanted to be alone, then. She didn’t know what to feel, how something could make her both so whole and powerful and yet so empty. Michael had been hesitant to leave her side, and she hadn’t even asked him to stay. He just knew.

“Don’t you need to get back to Hawthorne?” She peered up at Michael from where she’d curled around her pillow, watching him undo the elegant silver clasp of his cape. There were shadows under his eyes; he dragged a hand down his face, shoulders drooping as he let out a sigh. He looked as tired as she felt.

Michael left his cape across the chair in the far corner of her bedroom and went around to the other side of the bed, slipping off his shoes before he settled next to her. A moment later, the warmth of his presence lapped along her spine, his arm draped over her waist, tugging her into his chest. She dragged one of her arms out from under the pillow and laced her fingers between his, her thumb wandering over his knuckles and up his wrist. She felt Michael’s fatigued exhale against her back, the slightly anxious rhythm of his pulse against her fingers. He didn’t want to talk about it, but the ritual had left him shaken, too.

This time, she was absolutely certain that he’d pressed a kiss into her hair. “The only place I’m needed is right here.”

Her eyes fluttered closed. A few stray tears spilled down her cheeks and she tasted the salt on her lips. “I don’t want to get you into trouble, not so close to the test.”

Michael burrowed his face into the back of her shoulder, lithe fingers threading through her hair. She could fall asleep under the spell of his gentle hands. She had, before, many times over the course of their relationship. He pulled her closer, the warmth of his fingertips spreading across her hip. The scent of candle smoke and iron and whatever strong drink her father had shared at the Cortez lingered in her nose. The faint trace of sandalwood and jasmine that usually hung in her bedroom wasn’t powerful enough to suppress the echoes of their blood ritual.

“That doesn’t matter.” There was another deep exhale, but his pulse had slowed somewhat.

“Michael—”

“They won’t question my absence,” his voice was low, muffled into her shoulder. “And you’re far too important to me.” 

Michael’s fingers tightened around hers, and for a moment, if she closed her eyes, it seemed like they were just two kids in his bedroom with the rain tapping against the window. But she couldn’t pretend, couldn’t hold onto that illusion if she’d wanted to. Too much had changed since then.

Her lower lip trembled and made her voice shake. “I’m scared,” she confessed. “I’ve never been afraid like this before. Of…what we’re supposed to be doing. Of—”

“Afraid of me,” Michael murmured against her shoulder. It was so quiet she almost couldn’t hear it, but when she did, it was as if that damned ritual knife had torn right through her chest and stabbed her heart. She hadn’t missed the hitch in his breath, the tremor in his words.

“No.” She squeezed his hand, her fingers cold and numb from the lingering anxiety compared to his. “Never you.”

“If I had known about the ritual…”

“It’s not your fault,” she assured, softly. “I’m glad I didn’t have to go through that alone. It’s just…this is a lot to be okay with in such a short amount of time.”

She knew that the ritual would change her irrevocably, and it had, just not the way she’d envisioned. Maybe she’d been stupid to think that her immediate future would involve a lot more fire and brimstone, that maybe those pitch black eyes staring back at her would be permanent. She hadn’t recognized her own reflection in her father’s study, and she’d only seen Michael like that for a fleeting moment the night they’d burned down her aunt’s house. She’d always known there was something dark in her soul, but the knowledge that she wasn’t fully human—and half-demon, no less—had left her reeling.

“None of this has been easy for you.”

He shifted slightly, his chin digging into the crook of her shoulder, soft curls brushing the side of her neck and ear. The low rumble of his words resonated into her back, and that made her feel warmer and more whole than anything her father could’ve told her about where she’d come from.

“But there’s no one else,” He sounded so quiet and more terrified than he’d ever admit, that confident façade left behind at the doors to the Hawthorne School. This was the boy who’d always shared the truth with her and feared it leave him abandoned yet again. “I wouldn’t choose anyone except you to stand at my side in all of this. I don’t want anyone else.”

“I’m right here,” she whispered back to him. “I told you I’m not going anywhere. I promised you that.”

A promise was a promise. She had no intention of breaking it or leaving Michael’s side when there was nowhere else she’d belong. The fact was, neither of them could do this alone, and neither of them wanted to. They had little choice but shoulder the burden of their birthright together. And carry on.

***

Michael returned to Hawthorne in anticipation of completing the test of the Seven Wonders, and she went back to her mundane life of homework and avoiding her parents, a little envious of Michael’s unconventional education. She also hated being apart from him. But separated as they were, the increase in the strength of their combined power was almost immediately perceptible.

There had always been this invisible thread between them, a tether in the darkness, but now it had become more resilient, connecting them across great distances. A current of energy that let them know where the other was, and that they were forever bound. It was a comfort to her; gentle, whereas everything else about her newfound power was unwieldy and prone to give her headaches. Her father had unleashed Hell within her and hadn’t exactly given her any guidance on how to tame it for good use.

She hadn’t seen him since the Cortez and she wasn’t sure if she wanted to.

On the eve of the test, Miriam told her they had an errand to run for Michael. She’d been sitting at their tiny kitchen table, her fist propped under her chin, paging through the Book of Revelation. As if it would answer some things beneath all of that flowery language and prophecy. It certainly didn’t do a damn thing to ease the internal panic she’d concealed after her father had declared that she was supposed to be some kind of leader. Of legions. A soldier of the apocalypse she’d help create. Her father had had millennia to earn whatever rank he currently held, she was sure, and she was just a human with some demon blood whose primary concern right now was getting into the college of her choice.

“Where are we going?” she asked as she slid into the passenger seat of Miriam’s car.

It was late, nearing midnight, and she wondered what sort of errand they could’ve possibly needed to run at this hour. It definitely wasn’t just a drive up to the corner store. Late night trips in the Mead household usually entailed rituals of whispered Latin and sacrificial blood in some unfortunate soul’s backyard.

Miriam shoved the key into the ignition. “It’s best if you don’t ask a lot of questions. The less you know, the better.”

They meandered through empty back roads under a clear night sky, following a trail that Miriam apparently had picked up. She kept the window rolled down a little to let in the chilly air tinged with the scent of fresh cut grass and damp earth. It had rained sometime during the day; the headlights reflected off the slick asphalt and puddles still gathered in the roads as they broke through the shadows of the trees.

With the radio droning on softly in the background, and her attention out the window, her mind miles away, she nearly drifted off to sleep. The car slowed, gravel crackling under the wheels, when they inched closer to a gas station. It was bright, set deep into the wilderness without another soul around. Except for the car that had just pulled in.

“Get out,” Miriam whispered.

“What? Why?”

Miriam shot her a stern look, lips curving into a frown. The blinding white light from the gas station made her jet black hair look glossy. “Didn’t I tell you not to ask questions? Now, stay close, but stick to the shadows until I call for you. If for some reason this goes sideways, take the car and meet Michael outside Hawthorne. Last thing we need is for you to get yourself killed by a damn warlock.” Miriam reached over to the glove box and emerged with a kerchief, which she wrapped around her head and tied beneath her chin.

Her eyes went wide, her hand stilled on the door handle. “Wait, warlock? But—”

“Don’t you start. Go on, get.”

“Why don’t you just let me take care of it?” Her fingers curled around the handle, but she’d yet to make any real effort to budge the door open.

“With the way your powers have been acting? You set my curtains on fire two days ago.” In the dark of the car’s interior, Miriam’s eyebrow rose. She pursed her lips, and the glint in her eyes turned into something more sincere. “No, I can handle this. I’ve gotta protect my Devil babies.”

She had seriously misjudged Ms. Miriam Mead.

Hidden by the night that had enveloped the woods, she waited near the tree line with a clear view of Miriam’s car. A man was already leaning against the side of his own car at one of the pumps, arms crossed over his chest, when Miriam pulled up. From this distance, she couldn’t really see anything but his dark hair and sharp clothes and a distinct swagger. A warlock, Miriam had said. She wasn’t sure what his problem was, but if it was enough to have them out here in the middle of the night committing murder, then she guessed it had to be pretty fucking important.

Miriam engaged the warlock in some small talk, and he obliged to help her with putting gas into her car. She couldn’t hear the echoes of their conversation from so far across the road, but she knew Miriam had a disarming way of playing the part when she needed to. She waited, holding her breath, for a sign of a struggle. It didn’t come. Distracted, the warlock never saw Miriam take a swipe at his ankles until it was too late.

“Holy shit,” she breathed.

The warlock collapsed onto the asphalt, a cry ricocheting off the trees. It would be a mess, she mused, even if she couldn’t see the way the blood had exploded from his broken flesh. Once the warlock was vulnerable, on his knees, crashing toward the ground, Miriam sliced the fragile skin of his throat. And she took that as her cue to break through the tree line, fists stuffed into the pockets of her hooded sweatshirt as she dashed across the empty road.

Miriam exhaled a long-suffering noise when she reached her side. “What’d I tell you about staying put? That damned ritual give you selective hearing or something?”

She pushed up the hood of her sweatshirt. “Who was he?”

The warlock lay at their feet in a pool of crimson, polished black like ink on the pavement. There was still a weak gurgling sound as he choked on his own blood, his clothes stained with it, his handsome face coated with the spray from his neck. He stared up at nothing, pale blue eyes unseeing and lifeless.

“A threat.” Miriam pulled a box of matches from an inside pocket of her coat. “You go get in the car and I’ll clean up the mess.”

“I’m perfectly capable of cleaning up a mess,” she said. “You don’t have to do all the heavy lifting, you know.”

She held her hand out over the warlock’s body with her palm facing downward. Miriam’s hand shot out and smacked hers away, and she tried to level Miriam with a glare, her mouth opened in annoyed silence.

“At a gas station? Are you crazy?” Miriam whispered, though her voice wanted to edge into a shout. “None of this’ll matter if you blow both of us to pieces trying to clean up.”

“Thanks for your confidence.” She lifted an eyebrow.

“We don’t have time to—”

Before Miriam could protest any further, she held her hands over the warlock’s dead body where the blood was beginning to run into the puddles left from the rain. She drew from the well that had been offered to her, from the ancient, dark power that had coursed through her veins since her birth. The rush was enough to make her sway a little on her feet, but she kept a tight hold on it, willing it to manifest where she needed it. Her control was shaky at best, but she focused, directing just the right amount that hopefully would do the job and leave her and Miriam unharmed in the process.

Flames sprung up from the pavement around the warlock’s body, licking at his clothes until they ignited. The heat of the fire drifted upward to meet her outstretched palms, the orange glow tossing deep shadows across their faces. The barest trace of sulfur cut through the scent of blood and damp earth.

She felt Miriam’s hand on the small of her back. “Let’s go.” When she tore her eyes away from the body burning at their feet, Miriam was grinning. “Michael will be expecting us.”

 ***

Days later, there was an ache deep in her chest that she couldn’t explain. The acceptance letter that her parents barely acknowledged—even though they insisted on a university education with their newfound wealth; she wasn’t stupid, it was just means to get her out of their way—sat neglected in her bedroom. The ache evolved into a sharp pain, wrapping itself around her ribcage with claws and teeth and a strong, unbearable feeling that something was horribly wrong.

As much as she didn’t want to, she stifled the impulse to show up at Hawthorne. If she got herself caught, she knew it would only make the situation worse. Michael had already conquered the Seven Wonders with little difficulty. But her gut feelings were seldom incorrect. Something had happened. Every frantic call to Miriam’s house phone went unanswered, and her cell phone brought her straight to voicemail. She left a few panicked, slightly breathless messages before she finally pulled on a jacket and materialized outside of the house she’d come to consider more of a home than anywhere else in her life.

A home that was dark and unoccupied.

Streetlights filled the empty driveway with a dim orange glow. Her eyebrows pulled together, considering the darkened windows as she rounded the corner to the side doors. She tugged on a handle and found it locked, a realization that made the pain in her chest flare like a piercing stab wound. It would be no use to venture inside. Miriam wasn’t here, and it looked as though the house had been like this for some time. 

The radio silence from Miriam made her think the worst—she would never just disappear like this, never be so out of touch. The chances of her skipping town were unlikely, but she refused to dwell on the grimmest of all the possible outcomes. She felt guilty enough for not getting here sooner, for not knowing how to translate the dread that had coiled around her insides. For doubting Miriam’s care and love for both her and Michael. All of this power at her disposal and she had no idea how to use it to help the situation or follow Miriam’s trail. What good was she, then? It didn’t make her some great leader of prophecy, it just made her goddamn useless.

Maybe she would have to sneak into Hawthorne, after all.

She stuffed her hands into her pockets, exhaling loudly, tears welling in her eyes, wondering if the dread inside her was something more profound, like grief. 

A shape caught her periphery, a familiar ripple of power and light hitting her senses. She didn’t realize it was magic until it was too late.

The darkness swallowed her whole.

***

Four days.

Michael had stayed in this pentagram for four agonizing days, watching the sunlight move across the trees. Time seemed to slow down around him. He never counted the hours, left at the mercy of the passing sun overhead and the long shadows in the dirt. Except for the occasional birdsong and the rustle of leaves, there had been silence. Frustrating, resounding silence.

There was no one left. A hollow ache settled in his bones and gnawed at him with more violence than the hunger and thirst. His father had abandoned him, presumably because he’d already failed at the one thing he’d been put on this earth to do. He’d lost sight of his path and was now stumbling around in the dark once again, grasping at nothing. What was the point, now?

The acrid scent of burning flesh still clung to his nose like a ghost, his mind plagued by the images of his Ms. Mead charred beyond recognition. The grief that Michael could barely process since he’d dropped to his knees in this circle had numbed him; it came and went like the tide, stronger when the sun dipped below the horizon and the night’s quiet seemed more crushing. Sometimes, it had been accompanied by a fiery rage that he couldn’t contain, that left him exhausted from screaming into the forest until it felt as if he’d swallowed broken glass. In the moments when his fingertips had hovered over the burnt bodies, Michael thought that he’d lost them both to the witches.

And maybe he had. But they hadn’t set fire to her.

Four days and he couldn’t feel any sign of her. It was like the tether that bound them had inexplicably snapped, snuffing out the light that had helped to guide his path. Michael knew what her power was like, knew what it did when it mingled with his even when they were apart. The loss of her power was the least of his concerns, though—it was the absence of her that made his soul feel incomplete.

She was just…gone.

When he’d asked Cordelia Goode where she was, Michael had noticed the glint in her eye of an answer that she would not give. Whatever the witches had done, it had concealed her from him.

He was alone.

Michael knelt in the dirt, the clear, earthy scent of the forest unable to scrub away the odor of scorched flesh. He hunched over, elbows resting on top of his thighs with his face buried in his hands. The once carefully parted hair underneath his dirt-streaked fingers had become a greasy, unkempt mess. Stubble along his jawline prickled at his hands as he dragged them across his face to wipe away the fatigue. Michael’s formerly pristine clothes were now ragged and caked in filth, his appearance a testament to the past four days of aimless waiting.

A low, waning sun spilled golden rays over the dirt and stung at his tired and bloodshot eyes. Four days of catching a few minutes’ worth of sleep wherever he could manage them had done terrible things to his mind. The world spun around his head, in and out of focus. Michael could no longer tell what was real and what wasn’t. Had it really been just four days? How long would it take for him to waste away in this forest?

Michael’s fingers itched to conjure his knife. It was tempting—the thought of the blade kissing his skin so he could finally be at peace.

“Michael.”

He knew that voice. He’d know it anywhere.

The sound of it filled the air like a melody to his heavy, aching head, and he lifted his face from his palms in response, those dark and violent thoughts withering away with the breeze. There was something wrong in her voice, a dissonant note that made his blood run cold. When he finally turned around, the streaks of daylight, now burning orange as if it was fire across the dirt, caught the highlights in her dark hair and beads of scarlet running down her ashen lips.

“You left me.” Tears mingled with the blood dripping from her chin. Michael saw her hand clutched against her chest, the dirt at her feet pooling with deep crimson from a wound he couldn’t find, her fingers slick with bright red. “After everything,” her breath shuddered, gasping, “why would you leave me? How could you let them kill me?”

She staggered forward, approaching the circle. How had she found him, when he hadn’t even felt her presence in days? Michael caught her once her knees gave out, cradling her in his arms, fingers raking through her hair. His hands wouldn’t stop shaking, trying to find the source of all the blood.

A tear slipped down the curve of his cheek just when he thought he’d had no more left in him.

“I never wanted this to happen.” Michael desperately searched for a wound that wasn’t there, a wound that he didn’t think he would be powerful enough to heal. Not yet, anyway. He tried to temper his sorrow with anger instead, but the pain burned white-hot through his chest as if he could feel her wound as his own. “We’ll kill them all, I swear it. They won’t get away with what they’ve done to you and our Ms. Mead. They won’t survive us, I promise you that.”

She reached up and touched her fingertips to his cheek, leaving bloody fingerprints behind. She was so pale, the scent of blood all around them, the warmth retreating from her even as he held her close.

“Michael,” she whispered again.

“It’s all my fault.” A trembling hand cradled her ashen face. “I…I failed you, too.”

An apology wouldn’t be enough. It would never be enough for the feeling that carved its way through his ribcage like cold steel. Was there a name for it, the pain of having part of your soul ripped from you? A word for an emotion stronger than grief?

Michael gathered her to his chest when he felt her go still, his tears falling into her hair. “Don’t leave me like this…please…you’re all I have left…” He let her go to trace the fragile skin of her throat with his unsteady fingers. Her skin was cold to the touch, and no matter how hard he tried, he could no longer feel the once steady, strong rhythm of her pulse. She lay across his bent knees, unmoving, while he leaned over her.

Michael sobbed and pressed his forehead to hers. “I can’t lose you.”

He held her, dragging his fingers through her hair and sobbing her name until the illusion finally broke—her lifeless body vanishing in the next instant. The last of Michael’s sobs faded and he lifted his tear-stained face from his now empty hands.

All of it had seemed so frighteningly real—she had felt so real.

But it was just another cruel trick.  

Where are you?

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