Prenumbra - Part Two ⏳
Outpost!Michael x fem!Reader
Words: 3K
Summary: Cordelia Goode has just sacrificed herself to save the world. But all is not lost for Michael Langdon as he hunts down those final witches still determined to end him. But a twist comes in the form of Y/N, a witch murdered during Michael’s rampage, back from the dead.
Warning: Major Character death!! TWIST!READER, softdom!reader, swearing!, SMUT WILL BE COMING IN FUTURE PARTS! Along with other goodies too!
A/N: Here is Part two!!! We’re going to see a little more of Michael and Y/N’s burgeoning relationship, and some familiar faces are back. Things are starting to heat up as Y/N steps into the driving seat, hopefully there are no gaping plot holes, Michael isn’t oc in anyway AND I have my dead bodies in the right locations! Thank you so much for the wonderful response Part One received you are all angels (or demons) whichever you prefer. ❤️
(Credit to this wonderful gif maker, if someone knows please hit me up so I can tag them!)
All it takes is a whisper in Timothy’s mouth before the boy is rising from the dead before Michael. He gasps, clutching at his throat. It must be a pain perhaps just on par with losing his Mrs Mead. Timothy’s stomach knitting back together via magic, the acid purifying, his throat soothing back to normalcy. The boy’s eyes are bugged as he recovers, keeling over as he dry-wretches on nothing.
Y/N’s hand rubs his back, ‘There you go, It’s all over.’ She coos in his ear, like a mother would a frightened child. Y/N’s eyes flick up to Michael’s and then that charming little smile is back. ‘Michael, are you going to speak?’
He shoves down the wonder of seeing Vitalum Vitalis again. Little Miss Y/N who performs it as simply as taking a breath. She slinks over the bodies in the library, the ends of her dress just sweeping the floor. Y/N’s taking her time, almost marvelling at the gruesome sight.
But Michael already knows who is the lucky winner tonight. Who else has received a second chance at life.
‘You’re…alive?’ Michael’s eyes snap back to Timothy who’s gazing up at him. The boy’s mouth hangs open and for one second Michael has no idea why. ‘Did you…was there a battle?’
’Yes.’ Michael admits at once, realising the boy is gawking at the state of him. The rips, the bloodstains and general, un-Michael-like behaviour. ‘And…no.’
It’s then Timothy takes in the sight around him. Michael watches the memories crash and slam into place and then the boy is staggering to his feet, wheeling round, ‘EMILY!’
Michael catches Timothy’s arm, his grip ironclad. ‘She will be woken soon.’
The boy’s eyes fall to the plush sofa, where his lover lies dead. Emily’s eyes bulge still, foam and spittle dripping from her mouth. The boy’s entire body trembles as he sinks to his knees, forcing Michael to let him go. ‘What the fuck?’ Timothy’s eyes rake over Emily, then the bodies of his fallen comrades, before landing on Michael. ‘The apples-‘
‘He poisoned you.’
Both Michael and Timothy look to Y/N. She stands behind the sofa Emily lies on, watching Timothy’s every movement. Hatred courses through Michael. How dare she? How dare she give away his entire scheme as if it means nothing at all? Y/N’s tone is as if she’d just told Timothy the time.
Timothy’s eyes move back to Michael, ‘You told Venable to kill us all? Why!’
Michael’s leaves his gaze on Y/N as he answers, ‘It was the most viable way of getting rid of the clutter.’
‘You mean the other people?’ Timothy’s voice rises, ‘You said if we failed we stayed here, not that we’d be killed.’ His eyes flick back to the slackened jaw of Gallant, the horror still remnant in Andre’s eyes.
‘Poor choice of words darling.’ Y/N interjects, before Michael has the chance. Timothy wheels round, as if looking for something. Y/N’s eyes snap to Michael just as he realises the anomaly.
‘Where’s Coco? Dinah? Mal-‘
‘It doesn’t matter.’ Y/N cuts him off again. Her heels click as she steps round the sofa and guides Timothy’s chin from the missing bodies to her. She looms in closer, penetrating him with her stare. Michael can’t help but notice the blush creeping onto Timothy’s cheeks as Y/N’s hand ruffles gently through his hair. ‘Lucky for you and your Emily, you passed the interviews.’
Her tactic distracts the boy completely. He seems almost hypnotised by Y/N’s movements before him. She moves like a snake, her fingers trailing over his shoulder as she turns him back to Emily. Y/N’s eyes shine at Michael, as she too turns her back on him. Michael’s lip curls, it’s a show of trust but there’s an evident message. He wouldn’t dare strike in front of Timothy now.
They both need him and the girl.
‘Would you like me to bring her back?’ Y/N’s whisper carries over to Michael, despite the intent being for Timothy.
The boy nods eagerly, ‘Please. I’ll do anything.’
‘No need.’ She smiles, ‘Like I said, you both passed. Isn’t that right, Michael?’
‘Yes.’ There’s no need for him to add anything.
Y/N bends over Emily and takes her face gently between her hands. She wipes away the foam with her sleeve, a Prince ready to waken Sleeping Beauty. Timothy kneels right beside the women, his breath almost a pant from watching magic happen right before his eyes. Y/N’s lips hover a few inches above Emily’s and all Michael can think of is the acrid smell of vomit and poison that still lingers in the air. But as Y/N whispers that same incantation, her lips moving softly above Emily’s something curls in his stomach. Something heavy, fiery and then Emily’s rising up so fast she nearly knocks Y/N out. Y/N steps back immediately, catching Michael’s expression.
Michael zeros in on her as she draws to his side and slides her hand back into his. Michael’s fingers clench hers tightly, his gaze rooted on the young lovers before them. He won’t look at Y/N, nor the smile that still touches her lips. She knows what affect it had on him. He doesn’t like being read so easily by anyone, never mind the Antichrist.
Timothy’s dragged Emily into his arms, holding on tight. He whispers a thousand lost words in her ear as Emily tries to process. Michael knows the feeling well, the sluggishness of your mind, everything sharpening painfully into focus as your eyes start working again. His hand trails his torso, to the bullet marks that would still be there on someone normal.
The hand that isn’t being held in his trails Michael’s arm, ‘There is something we should do before we leave here.’ Michael’s head turns to Y/N at last, trying to read her expression. She’s still smiling at him, ‘Rejoice dear, we have our lovers back with us.’
Emily and Timothy have risen to their feet, their arms wrapped all round each other. ‘Why us?’ Emily asks, looking between Michael and Y/N. ‘Are you two…’
‘No.’ Michael answers it, ‘Despite how it may look….’
Y/N’s quick to takeover for him, ‘We’ve never met before today in fact.’ She says, ‘My name is Y/N and I am Mr Langdon’s second in command.’
‘Michael.’ Timothy echoes, having noticed Y/N’s switch to formality.
Michael narrows his eyes, ‘Langdon.’
Both Timothy and Emily shrink under his intense stare. Satisfaction coils within Michael, happy he can still intimidate the pair before him. Timothy’s eyes flick down, submissive but Emily remains fixed on Y/N. ‘Why didn’t you arrive with him then?’
‘There was a delay.’ Y/N reveals, releasing Michael to get some space. ‘Procedure and all.’
‘How can there be a delay when everyone else is dead.’
Y/N’s head whips back to Emily. The young woman remains strong, staring down the Antichrist with a calm ferocity. Y/N takes a step and then points at Emily, ‘I like you.’
It doesn’t deter Emily, ’So what’s next? The Sanctuary? Does it even exist?’
‘Of course it exists.’ Michael snaps, ‘Where was I before, if not there?’
Emily has answers, it’s easy to see them in her eyes but she backs down.
‘When do we leave?’ Timothy asks, his eyes back on the dead bodies, ‘Can they…can they really not come with us?’
‘Why would we want them?’ Emily’s retort silences everyone. She leaves her lover to stare down at Gallant and Andre, ‘They’re greedy and selfish people. They’d throw us out in the radiation without hesitation if it meant getting a bigger cube.’
‘There’s no cubes in the Sanctuary.’ Michael promises, ‘We have provisions. The apples for instance, crops and food grown by our residents. It keeps them busy and provides a stable source of nutrition and balance.’
‘Real food?’ Timothy stares at Michael, ‘You mean like…pizza?’
‘I suppose it can be done.’
It’s enough for Emily. She picks up her skirts, ‘Give us time to change out of these stupid outfits?’ She hesitates, ‘We don’t have to wear the medieval shit do we?’
‘No.’ Michael answers, ‘Whatever dystopian nightmare Venable had you under doesn’t apply where we’re going.’
‘Thank god.’ Emily dumps her mask and steps on it as she hurries from the room, presumably back to her chambers.
Timothy lingers. He sizes up Michael who remains passive as ever, his hands folded behind his back. A smile breaks out on Timothy’s face, ‘Venable.’ He says, ‘She’s dead isn’t she?’
For the first time in a while, Michael feels himself smiling. ‘Yes.’
A smirk tugs at Y/N’s mouth, ‘I take it you had fun with that one.’
‘After she tried to kill me, it was self-defence.’ Michael isn’t about to admit more with Timothy in the room. His answer is enough for the boy however, who heads out of the room following his lover.
Y/N heads back over to Michael, when Timothy’s head pops round the door, ‘Can we at least…give them a burial or do something?’
‘Of course,’ Y/N concedes. Timothy nods and then he’s gone, footsteps echoing up the stairs.
Michael grips Y/N’s arm, ‘The bloodbath…they’re bound to question it. We should have blindfolded them or-‘
‘I just brought them back from death.’ Y/N says, ‘Trust me, they aren’t interested in anything but getting out of here, just the same as us.’
‘You’re sure?’
‘If they cared, they would have tried a little harder for me to bring them back wouldn’t they?’
She’s right…again. Michael saw Emily’s selfishness, Timothy’s ability to commit atrocities for those he loves. Together with their potential unlocked, the two would be the Macbeths, bloody and driven to the Antichrist’s modus operandi.
‘The perfect insurance plan.’ Y/N echoes, her hand stroking up Michael’s blazer.
‘You think about what happens if you’re taken out?’
‘You did.’ Y/N murmurs, her fingers, straightening his collar.
‘I was…instructed it would be wise.’
‘You got my files, perfect delivered to Kineros by your Mrs Mead.’ Y/N trills, ‘You’d believe anything she says. It was easy to use her as a mouthpiece after a while-‘
Michael drags her closer by her wrists, ’You are getting cocky.’ He hisses, ‘Watch how you speak about her.’
Realising her mistake, Y/N drops the act. Her fingers push some of Michael’s golden hair behind his ear, ‘You never needed her, Michael.’ She murmurs, ‘You trusted her because she gave you that which no one else ever had before.’
‘Stop it.’ Michael bares his teeth, his grip getting stronger.
‘She loved you. Unconditionally.’ Y/N continues, ‘That doesn’t mean she was always right.’
‘You enjoy shredding me?’ He stares her down, Michael’s breath close enough to hit her face. ‘You want to make me crumble before you?’
With a slight push from her hand, magic flows through Michael. He stagers backwards away from her, ‘Never.’ Y/N says. ‘I never want to diminish you. I only want to boost you. Even if that means you have to hear somethings you wish you didn’t.’
It’s an honest answer. Better than the sycophantic Satanists. As Y/N stands there, her hair catching in the light, her chin held aloft, Michael is reminded so much of Cordelia. The Supreme who stood up against him for so long. Perhaps Y/N isn’t fully aware herself of how she emulates the Supreme, but it’s there, plain for Michael to see.
That same unbeatable spirit.
Y/N heads for the doorway, back towards the foyer. ‘You have a room I suppose?’
‘A….room?’
Does she wish to bed him right now, make her claim on him? The idea is thrilling and terrifying.
‘For your rituals?’ Her tone is patronising, as Y/N lifts an eyebrow at him. She continues through the bodies and up the stairs, Michael trailing behind her.
Michael picks up his pace, overtaking Y/N and leading the way. Neither speak till they reach a small room, just off from Baldwin’s office. ‘I found this place when I was snooping round the school.’ Michael reveals, ‘It’s a place for sacraments. It’s perfect for communing.’
He can feel the tinge of something dark the moment he steps inside. The room is spotless, apart from the five candles that sit around, leftover from his last prayer. Some are burnt down to stumps, a testament to how long one of Michael’s communions takes. All traces of his pentagrams have gone too, there’s no trace of blood staining the floorboards or walls.
Y/N’s eyes rove everywhere and then to the candles. She turns to face Michael and then kneels down holding her hand out, palm upwards. ‘Aren’t you going to join me?’
He obeys, kneeling before her but Michael don’t take her hand. ‘What are you planning on doing?’
Y/N eyes slip closed. The fingers of her left hand move as if playing a scale and the candles ignite. Michael isn’t that impressed, but he can’t help but lean in. Y/N’s close enough to see how her lashes flutter gently as she works her magic. Her eyes rove back and forth beneath the lids and right when Michael is inches away, they snap open. He freezes, unable to draw back without looking like a coward, unable to move further without dire consequences.
Y/N’s lips curl up into a smile, ‘What are you up to Michael?’
He feels like a little boy caught doing something he shouldn’t. Michael leans back onto his haunches, not saying a word. He doesn’t trust his tongue not to betray him. Y/N simply holds her hand out again, this time Michael takes it. His rings wink at him in the candlelight as Y/N’s voice echoes lowly throughout the room. It sounds almost like latin, somewhat familiar but the words distort and peak high at the ends. It’s almost grating as Y/N’s eyes roll into the back of her head, so the whites of her eyes show. The candles flare, Y/N’s face turns chalk white and then they are plunged into darkness.
‘I thank you father for your continued faith in me.’ Y/N’s voice is just a whisper, her hand still gripping Michael’s tight. ‘For showing me my path and allowing me to succeed where all other have failed. To unite at last with my Michael and combine together to carry out a new world in your image.’
Michael tries to wrench his hand back, but Y/N has a death grip. ‘I do not belong to you.’
Her eyes lift back to meet his own. He’s certain she’s debating on what to say, but Y/N drops her lips to Michael’s hand, kissing the skin there. Goosebumps erupt all over, Michael suppressing the base instinct immediately, but she’s caught him. ‘It felt good, didn’t it?’
’N…..no.’
‘Mmmmm,’ Y/N’s lips travel a little higher, placing another kiss on Michael’s wrist. She tugs him closer and before he knows better Michael has moved to accommodate her. Y/N tongue swipes over her lips, moistening them as her eyes take in his every reaction. ‘So…unsure.’ She murmurs, ‘Why not give it a try?’
He can’t tell her. It would ruin him.
Y/N’s hand runs gently through Michael’s hair, bringing his face closer to hers. It’s the last moment he has to pull away, to use his own magic and fight against the anticipation and nerves that seize him. She’s got him spellbound as Y/N swallows his hesitation in a gently, searing kiss. Michael’s lips move, unsure as he remembers to breathe. He’s tingling all over, a thousand volts coursing through his skin. But it’s pleasant, no….
It’s good.
It’s like being shot again, but this time there’s no pain but euphoria.
It feels right.
’That was your first…wasn’t it?’ Michael nods, avoiding Y/N eyes. Her fingers dancer underneath his chin and when Michael peeks back at her, she’s smiling. ‘Thank you for waiting for me.’
He still can’t talk, but he doesn’t need to. Y/N rises and guides him gently, her hand sliding to lead him by the arm. She leads the way back to the foyer where Timothy and Emily stand at the top of the stairs. They are holding hands, suitcases resting at their feet. Packed full of bounty from their dead friends, no doubt.
‘What happens from here?’ Emily asks.
‘We take the carriage.’ Y/N announces, much to Michael’s surprise.
‘We are?’
‘You brought it all the way here on your own.’ Y/N descends the stairs, picking her way through the bodies of Madison Montgomery and Dinah Stevens. ‘Why not fill it with people this time?’
She catches sight of Timothy eying the bodies. He looks a little green, ‘The blonde.’ He says, ‘She wasn’t in the Outpost with us.’ His eyes rove from Madison to Miriam Mead’s decapitated head. There is no warning as Timothy leans over the side of the railing and vomits. Emily runs to his side as Michael draws as far away as possible, the stench rising in the air.
Y/N frowns, ‘Perhaps it would have been best to blindfold you both.’
Emily drags Timothy down the stairs and past the bodies.
‘Put on the hazmat suits.’ Michael instructs, ‘They will protect you till you reach the carriage. You can take the helmets off when safely inside after one hour.’
Timothy manages a thumbs up as the young lovers walk. Y/N sets off again, but pauses when Michael doesn’t follow. His gaze is locked down on the head of Miriam Mead, his mentor, his supporter.
‘Leave her.’ Y/N’s voice is hard, ‘Let her rest here and move on, Michael.’
‘You don’t get to decide that.’ His voice is harsh, childish and echoes from the force behind it. But the second the words leave his mouth, Cordelia’s voice is back.
Led, coddled, a scared little boy.
‘She isn’t the only one.’ Y/N’s reading his thoughts, but Michael can’t bring himself to care. ‘Show Cordelia that you are stronger than she thinks. Prove her wrong.’ Her fingers creep round to rest on his shoulder, ‘You aren’t facing this fight alone anymore.’
‘And be led by you instead?’ Michael turns his head so he can look at her.
Y/N’s fingers caress his cheek, ‘I won’t lead you.’ She vows, ‘But I will love you.’
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