#michael ahs

summary: michael goes to cordelia in search for you.  he’s met with terrible news.  

pairing: michael langdon x reader

word count: 495 words

warnings: reader is dead LMAO

a/n: idk i wanted something angsty but this came out instead

“Where is she?” Michael asked, his hands balled up at his sides. “What have you done with [Your name]?”

“She’s no longer any of your concern,” Cordelia said, her eyes narrowed in his direction.  

Yesssssssss of course!

Michael Langdon

his eyes scanned the purples in the room and he tried to hide the darkening of his expression when he didn’t see your familiar face. “is this everyone?” he asked.

“everyone of importance, yes.” Ms. Venable said.

Michael left the room, leaving everyone to look after him with questions as Venable struggled to chase after him, “is something wrong?” she asked.

“i gave explicit instructions upon the creation of this bunker. Y/N, you know her?” Michael growled at Venable who nodded, “she’s supposed to be a purple. i’ve already seen how you’ve twisted the rules to make yourself feel important so tell me, what was it that made you demote her?”

“i... I...” Venable stuttered.

After months staying in the Murder House, you begin to get closer to Michael, teaching him the ‘normal’ things that every child should have. 

Pairing: Michael x Y/N

Warnings: Character Death, Fluff, Tiny bit of angst, Witch!Reader (Who suppresses their power), time skip, I got lazy at the end rip

Requested: Yes (You can find it HERE)

Word Count: 1.5k

Hand on the railings of the stairs, you tiredly hauled yourself up them one step at a time feeling guilty as you knew Michael was still wide awake, he was unable to sleep without you by his side.

It made your heart shatter, the rejection and abandonment he had gone through was beyond unfair especially for a boy his age. However, in the span of a week, he had gone from a baby boy’s mentality in a man's body to a fully matured adult which for the least bit made you concerned. You knew it wasn’t healthy for him.

Struggling to keep your eyes open, the luminescent light of the moon lit up the room allowing your attention to be directed to a redhead who currently held the black handle of a sterling silver knife in her hand, she was heading towards his room in the stealthiest way possible.

“Vivien, what the hell are you doing?” You whispered, the desperation in your voice begging for a rational answer that hopefully wasn’t what you suspected it to be.

“I’m going to end this all,” She hissed, unfazed by the tone in your voice as she continued to edge closer to his room.

“Don’t you dare touch him,” You growled through gritted teeth, reaching out you jerked her wrist back, the motion stopping her from moving any further.

“He is pure evil,” She seethed, her red hair was faded greying with age. The tired wrinkles forming on her forehead and cheeks made her look sickly as she tried to discourage you with her words.

“He’s your son, you can’t do this,” You pleaded, trying to convince her as you eyed the knife inconspicuously wondering if you should make a grab for it.

“No, he’s not,” She remarked, before turning around and kicking your knees with such force it made you fall back, tumbling painfully down the wooden stairs hitting your muscles with such impact that surely bruises would form.

By the time you reached his room, Vivien stood menacingly over him lifting up the knife with both palms clasped around the handle ready to bring it down at any given moment.

“Michael!” You exclaimed, warning him but somehow you knew that he was already aware of what was about to happen.

Anxiety getting the better of you, you sprinted towards her knocking the knife out of her hands and trying to wrestle her to the floor.

“Let me go!” She yelled, pushing against you, bringing the knife dangerously close against your throat, she was hesitating for a reason.

In a blink of an eye, heat started to surround your feet in an explosion of flames, both of your bodies were engulfed in the red and orange tinted blazes.

Screams of agony came out of your mouth, feeling the heat eat up your skin cells practically melting off your bones. 

A rush of a blonde-haired and sweater covered Tate flashed past you, the thud on the floor signalling that him and Vivien were safe.

“Y/N?” Michael’s voice cracked, his ocean blue eyes filling with transparent tears as he sprung off the bed trying to stop the fire.

“Get water! someone,” He screamed, crying as he watched you helplessly, trying to calm the blaze.

That was the last thing you heard before closing your else as you gave up fighting against the pain.

The flames suddenly halted, leaving a ring of ash around your severely burnt limbs.

“What have I done?” Michael gasped, brushing his thumb over the now course, rough and bloodied skin that were your cheeks.

Vivien and Tate scrambled out of the room as quickly as possible, terrified at the possibility of a powerful outburst of demonic magic one to surely lay the spirits to rest.

From that night onwards, the incident scarred him nightly and he disappeared from the house, unable to face you after what he had done.

“You’re a pathetic, pompous ass,” Myrtle muttered, holding onto Cordelia’s arm supporting her weight as crimson coloured liquid ran out of her nose stopping just below her upper lip.

“I did everything you asked, I descended into hell and did everything you couldn’t, I brought her back,” He stated, the whole room quietening until all that could be heard was the lit fire crackling.

“I passed the seven wonders unless you want to add another one,” He finished off smoothly, the words rolling off his tongue with finesse while he raised his brow awaiting another challenge.

“No-,” Cordelia hesitated, using all of her remaining strength to stand as she continued her speech.

“There can be no doubt, you’re the next Supreme.” She huffed, her eyes filled with hidden desperation as she made eye contact with Michael. Her life force was fading, and fast at that.

He deeply inhaled, a small smile donning his pinkish lips in victorious triumph.

“Now if you will excuse me, I have one more thing to do,” He remarked, turning away from the coven of witches and his fellow mentors who watched him leave with uncertainty.

Continuing to stalk through the corridors, he placed his palm on his forehead trying to stop the impending dizziness as a side effect of the spell. Closing the door hastily to his room, he sunk to the floor on his knees.

“Father, give me enough strength,” He murmured, below lying down in his all-black tuxedo that would’ve surely gathered dust from the last time he performed the spell.

Muttering untranslatable Latin words, his body began to descend into the underworld the grey smoke covering him fully.

Once travelling yet again through the familiar black corridors, he paused gliding his hand over a black handle and twisting it open.

His breath hitched as he realised he was standing outside of the murder house, in pitch black darkness. This is what haunted him for years, could it be his personal hell instead?

Flicking the gates open with a flick of his wrist he bolted up the steps towards the opening of the house.

 “Is anyone out there? Please, I need help,” You screamed, banging against the pretty glass stained windows of the front door praying to be let out.

Suddenly a trail of fire descended down the stairs, legs collapsing underneath you. You wrapped your arms around your legs crying into them as the heat of the flames began to scold you.

Coughing as the smoke became worse, your vision gave way only being able to see the black abyss.

“Y/N, is that you?” He exclaimed, ripping the door off its hinges, his jaw clenched as he saw you laying on the ground in a ball, barely conscious.

“I’m not letting you down this time,” he whispered, quickly entering the house, he scooped you up, one hand underneath the joint of your knees and one underneath your upper back carrying you to safety.

Gasping for air, you sat forward your vision adapting to the amount of light that had shone on your face, wherever you were.

You were engulfed in a suffocatingly tight hug, confusing your senses even more as all you could see from the corner of your eye was their black clothes and strawberry blonde hair.

“Y/N it’s okay you’re safe,” The voice who spoke to you sounded oddly familiar but you couldn’t put your finger on it, as he pulled away your eyes widened.

“Michael-,” You jerked backwards violently, holding your hand out to shield yourself from him.

“I’m so, so sorry-,” His voice trembled, you could tell he was holding back tears your reaction probably made him even more distraught.

“This isn’t real, you’re not real,” You explained, your gaze focused on the floor as you rocked back and forth.

“I am, and you’re here, I brought you back,” he whispered calmly, edging closer towards you he brushed his fingers against your cheek tucking a piece of hair behind your ear.

You flinched at the movement remembering the last time he touched you. You sat in silence staring at his baby blue eyes and feeling his deep inhales and exhales, the mint in his breath fanned across your face calming you down immensely.

“You don’t have to forgive me, I don’t expect that,” He coaxed sitting comfortably on his thighs waiting for you to comprehend and adjust to the situation.

You nodded, your throat constricting as a lump welled up inside of you trying to stop yourself from crying yet again.

“But I missed you,” You croaked, leaning forward you wrapped your arms around him feeling his warmth again ignite your body.

“I still don’t get a thank you?” He joked, his hand stroking your hair while you smiled into his chest. Pulling away you pressed your lips against his soft ones taking him by surprise.

“Is that an okay thank you?” You asked, gazing up at him and admiring his features. He nodded, leaning forward to leave a small kiss on your forehead.

“Your mother is outside-,” He sighed, reassuringly rubbing up and down your arms while you let out a loud groan, burying your face into your hands.