Prenumbra - Part One ⏳
Outpost!Michael x fem!Reader
Words: 2.4K
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: I’m back after what really does feel like forever! This has honestly been ticking round in my brain for AGES and I’m so so excited to get it out for you. I could have it all posted in a oneshot, but that’s no fun and I wanted to get content out there for you. Like I say it features a BIG TWIST which all may not be happy with, but I don’t wanna give the story away. It will get juicy and smutty and we’ll delve into life beyond Outpost 3. Should be 2 or 3 parts long. Thank you so much to all who have messaged, sent me asks and chatted to me during my hiatus! Working in London really is tough hah! ❤️🖤
(Gif by @lngdns)
His footsteps descend the spiral stairs, each step a dull thud in the otherwise silent Outpost. Blood has spread out to fill every crevice of the circular bottom. It laps against the stone walls as Michael represses the faintest shudder at just how much there is. The blood soaks through the remnants of his trousers, still warm as the Antichrist kneels down beside her body.
Cordelia Goode, his truest enemy.
Even in death her mouth is lifted with triumph, her vacant eyes hold the residue of one final secret Michael will never be able to extract. His hand closes over the knife still embedded in her chest. It’s from there the pool of blood came as Michael closes her eyes and wipes away the specks of blood on her face.
If he was playing chess, then the Queen and her many pawns were dead. Yet Michael knows better than to think the Supreme was the only piece that could checkmate him. If Cordelia is the Queen, that makes Mallory the King. The one an entire Coven had been so determined to hide from him they risked themselves to make sure Michael couldn’t reach her.
They almost succeeded too.
‘I was always going to win.’’ He repeats it again, a soft whisper that flows from his lips to the unmoving Cordelia.
There’s a scuffle and Michael moves at once, ripping the knife out of Cordelia’s chest and transmuting right back to the corridor above. His hand grips the knife a little firmer as Michael zeros in on the sound of chanting coming from behind one of the doors.
Is that…water too?
The door careens off his hinges from just a look from the Antichrist and the chanting stops. He steps through the doorway to find the red-head bitch is standing between him and the bathtub. Her hands are outstretched, clearly trying one last desperate attempt at magic.
‘You think a protective enchantment will stop me? Ask your sisters how that worked out.’
‘It’s too late.’ She shrieks, ‘You’ve lost. Strike me down, I care not. Dear Mallory has already made the transition.’ Cold washes over him, Michael’s composure broken for half a second. The witch smirks in triumph, ‘Delia was right about you. All this time we’ve been scared to face you when you’re just a fragile little boy with too much power.’
‘I will show you all!’ Michael’s voice rises along with his fear. The witch in the tub must be Mallory and she hasn’t risen. He can feel the power transference as suddenly the puzzle pieces fit together.
Cordelia truly was one step ahead of him.
With a flick of his wrist the red-head bitch’s head snaps to the side before she can even attempt to fend him off. Satisfaction surges through Michael on seeing that ridiculous woman finally silenced. Michael approaches the edge of the tub, the surface opaque. Mallory’s body is floating, the hand which clings to a strand of his hair just appearing out of the black water. Michael raises the knife above his head and plunges it down into the water only to tug his hand sharply out of the water with a hiss. The water has become acidic, treacherous as it protects the new Supreme inside. The knife sinks to the bottom, out of reach. Michael’s hand is blistering before his eyes, the skin raw and bleeding. He concentrates all his focus on tipping over the tub, siphoning away the water, summoning the knife back to his hand. He tries anything his magic will allow to try and destroy the girl before she can ruin him.
What is she fucking doing?
Michael’s panic rises and he shoves his unharmed hand into the waters again only to achieve the same result.
He cannot reach her. He cannot touch her. He doesn’t know what is going on.
At first Michael is sure the pain from his hands has caused a hallucination, or Mallory’s magic is clouding him with a vision. It is completely impossible for Y/N to be standing before him. The slit across her throat has healed itself, but she’s covered with half-dried blood all down her front.
Very much alive.
Michael staggers back, ‘You….’
Y/N’s eyes fall down to the tub, she plunges her hand into the water and seizes Mallory, ripping her up by the hair. The witch screams, kicking and lashing out. Y/N remains firm, her grips strong enough to split hairs as Mallory is forced to her feet. Y/N brandishes Mallory before Michael, pulling her head back so her neck is visible. ‘Finish her.’
Michael hesitates, his eyes wide. Mallory’s eyes are bleeding, blood gushing from her eyeballs, ‘She’s….’
‘Blind probably.’ Y/N nods, ‘There’s not much known about what happens if you interrupt a time travel spell after all.’
Michael’s breath catches, the revelation stunning him. The knife flies from the tub and into his hand, courtesy of Y/N. Michael’s reflection shines back at him, ‘You’re….helping me now. Why?’
Y/N sighs, taking the knife off him. She extends her arm round Mallory’s neck, the point of the knife fatally close. Mallory’s still bucking, but Y/N’s not going to let her get away. The knife slashes across Mallory’s throat, blood spurting forth as the new Supreme gargles. Her hand flies to her throat as Y/N drops her, Mallory collapsing back into the water. Michael can do nothing but watch. Y/N’s mouth twists into a soft smile, waiting for Mallory to take her final breath.
‘Oh hurry up now.’ She says, ‘Die a little quicker, dear.’
Mallory’s eyes are wide, ‘We…..trusted you.’
‘That was your mistake.’
She waits until Mallory’s body is limp before running a hand gently over her hair, ‘Poor thing. Never really stood a chance, did they?’
Michael knows she has to be talking to him, but for the first time in his life he’s been rendered completely mute. His eyes flick to the knife still in Y/N hand and she drops it with a small tinkling laugh, ‘I don’t want you dead, darling.’
‘At least one of you came to your senses.’ Michael doesn’t mention how unblemished her skin is, but his eyes must have flicked to her hands without him realising. Y/N steps around the tub and looks up at him, shaking some hair out of her eyes.
Neither speak, but then Y/N holds Michael’s hand in both of hers. A tingle starts from Michael’s fingertips all the way down to his wrist and up his arm. It’s warm and feels wonderful, comforting and Y/N’s touch remains featherlight. ‘It’s alright.’ She coos, ‘They’re all dead. There’s no one to stop me now.’
‘You?’
Her smile widens, just a sliver of teeth are on show. Y/N removes her hands, picking up his other hand and repeating the spell. Michael lifts his hand to his eyes, the skin as good as new, smooth and perfect. A rush of something embarrassing floods him and Michael shoves it far down into the pit of his stomach.
No. He is not grateful. This witch could turn on him at any second. Michael silences how his entire being aches when Y/N lets go of him and the two are no longer touching. Michael has never touched her before, now he just wants more.
Y/N’s eyes lift back to his. She reaches up, wiping the blood he didn’t know was there. ‘You’ve done so so well for me, Michael.’ She praises, ‘You’ve played your part beautifully. Faultless up until now, but I understand how Cordelia got under your skin.’ She taps him on the tip of his nose, ‘You let her distract you, lost sight of the real goal.’ She leans in close, as if she’s about to divulge something, ‘But no matter, now there is no one to stop us from carrying out my father’s work.’
She slinks away out of the room and down the corridor. All the air leaves Michael’s lungs as the weight of her words slam into him.
My father’s work.
He tears after her, his footsteps clunky as Michael hurries to catch her by the forearm. ‘Why shouldn’t I just kill you now?’
His hand lets her go before he can stop himself. Michael recognises it at once - Concillium.
‘After I helped you back there?’ Y/N frowns, ‘Not very nice of you is it.’ She considers him, ‘And besides, you killed me once and I just came bouncing back.’
Michael had forgotten about that. He’s slit Y/N’s throat early on during the bloodbath, ‘You have resurgence.’ He concludes, ‘Impressive, but nothing I haven’t seen before.’
‘I can do a lot of things.’
Y/N presses onwards, sweeping down the corridors. Her dress billows after her, gleaming black in the candlelight. Michael has little choice but to keep his eyes rooted on the threat before him as she inspects the bodies of her fallen ‘comrades’. First Coco, then Marie Levau and finally Madison.
Y/N clucks her tongue, inspecting the headless body. ‘Such a dramatic end for a dramatic girl.’ Her eyes lift to Michael, ‘I thought Madison at least would see the light.’ Her eyes slide to Dinah Stevens, ‘They were talented witches. All of them, we could have really used them.’
‘Just how long were you planning all this?’ Michael asks, ‘This grand betrayal really wasn’t necessary, if you had joined my side when I had commanded it-’
‘I’d have been gunned down just like you were.’ Y/N cuts in, ‘You still have a lot to learn Michael.’
The hair on his arms quivers. His name slides so easily off her tongue, ‘Meaning?’
Y/N considers him, ‘Unfortunately, Cordelia was right.’ He stiffens and Y/N catches it at once. She makes her way back over to him and slides a hand soothingly down his jacket. ‘You have been guided by people. That’s not a bad thing, but it means that when it comes to making a decision for yourself, you struggle.’
Michael’s mouth opens to retort, but the weight of Cordelia’s dying words linger inside him. Words he’ll carry with him forever - led, coddled, a scared little boy.
‘So you rush into things.’ Y/N continues, holding up her finger to him. ‘There is reward when you lie in wait.’
Michael catches her finger and pushes it away, ’I waited two years before detonating the bombs. I know patience.’ He leans in closer, Michael’s height an advantage in this scenario. ‘You think I’m just gonna roll over and believe you’re descended from Satan?’
Y/N’s eyes turn icy, ‘You still don’t believe me?’
Michael squares his shoulders, ‘What is the meaning of this?’
She chooses her words carefully, ‘Perhaps we should do this later.’ Y/N tries to move away but Michael catches her wrist. He squeezes till the bones feel a little brittle, but still Michael pushes. His eyes burn into Y/N’s testing her and pushing. The bone snaps clean in two, Y/N’s wrist slackening under his grip. Only then does Michael relieve his pressure. A smirk twists his features, his touch featherlight as his fingers trace the ruined wrist. ‘You are nothing. Just a little witch who-’
But then Y/N’s wrist snaps straight as before. Michael can feel the bone back in place as he continues to hold her arm up. It’s far too similar to what happened to him just before. The spray of bullets and phantom pain ricochets through Michael; the painful snapping of limbs and joints back into place. The dull lethargy he never wishes to fell again.
‘My dear Michael.’ Y/N murmurs, ‘You have been led to believe you are something you aren’t.’
Fear grips him again. Catching his every move, Y/N’s touches soften as does her face. Those eyes enrapture and ensnare him, her touch too gentle against his deathly grip. She does not see him as an enemy, nor a threat.
‘My life is not a lie.’
The wrist he just broke reaches back to Michael’s face and he flinches away on pure instinct. Hurt lances through Y/N’s expression but she hides it thinly, ‘I’m sorry, Michael. But you are not the Antichrist.’
His hand flies to her throat at once, lifting Y/N off the ground. ‘Get the fuck away from me. You think I’ll listen to such delusions.’
‘You know what happens if you kill me.’
He lets her go. Y/N lands a little clumsily, for the first time she looks a little ruffled. Her eyes are wide as if the betrayal is real. As if she isn’t crushing Michael’s entire spirit in her dainty little hands. She turns her back on him, stalking towards the library. Michael lets her go, his mind reeling.
It cannot be.
No.
Y/N pops back around the corner, ‘Where is the library?’
‘I know who I am.’ He sinks down onto the edge of the fire pit. ‘I refuse to comprehend it. It doesn’t make sense.’ Michael’s golden hair falls down, hiding his anguish. It’s silent for a moment or two, then Y/N is kneeling before him.
She brushes his hair behind his ear, ‘It killed me to hide from you all these years. To watch you go about believing you were the one.’
Her tone is genuine. Michael’s always known when people are lying to him. ‘It’s you.’
‘It’s not something I’d wish on anyone.’
’But…the mass. My powers…’
Y/N’s hands rest on his thighs, over the singed rips and bare skin. ‘You were made for me, Michael. To be at my side once the world was reborn.’
Tears fall before he can stop them, ‘No.’
‘You have done the most wonderful job.’ She coos, her hands sliding over his thighs. ‘And I have always been watching, keeping an eye on you. I sent Anton Levay to you when you were stuck inside that hellhole of a house. I guided you to the Church of Satan when you were about to give up. I sent the goat.’
‘Why did you leave it all to me?’
‘Because the Antichrist has been created and perished with every generation.’ She murmurs, ‘All of them failed. All became huge public figures that fell on their swords. I knew that wasn’t the way and when you came along, so determined to prove yourself, full of raw power and emotion…you were the perfect construct. You kept everyone’s attention on you, because you were my equal Michael. Everything you’ve done has been you, I’ve just pulled some strings in the background.’
Michael trembles, ‘My Ms Mead…’
He’d been ignoring the robotic corpse ever since stepping into the foyer. But now Michael’s eyes take in the nasty fluid leaking from the body, the head splattered. From this angle wiring and metal is visible, reminding Michael that the robot he had given his love to was just a machine. It was never a replacement for the real woman.
Y/N’s lips press against his forehead, ‘I had no idea they would go for her.’
‘You were among them.’ Michael’s eyes burn with fire. ‘I saw you, lurking in the back during the visits. You watched me complete the Seven Wonders, how could you have no idea?’
‘Because Cordelia never fully trusted me.’ Y/N remains strong as she offers Michael her hand. ‘You come with me, we finish up here and we never have to come back. We’ll burn this place to the ground, along with every single sordid memory.’
Sensing no other option, Michael’s fingers latch around Y/N’s.
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