My Heroine [Michael Langdon/American Horror Story]
  • Reads 4,792
  • Votes 172
  • Parts 16
  • Time 1h 28m
  • Reads 4,792
  • Votes 172
  • Parts 16
  • Time 1h 28m
Ongoing, First published Nov 12, 2018
Mature
But you're suicide.



"Being the perfect image they had painted for you isn't all you thought it'd be, is it?" he continued, ignoring her. "So you come here, pleading to God for help, pleading he'll put you back on the right path."

"Fuck you," she spat, pushing at his chest, trying to escape him for a second time.

"Let me tell you something," he grabbed her arm again, more forcefully than the first time. He leaned down, his lips nearly brushing against her ear. "He's not listening."
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"You're unbearable!" He kicks her with utter contempt. "Please tell me where I'm wrong, causing you discomfort was not my intention," she said crying, causing him to hit her against the ground again. "Do you think you can live with good intentions? Didn't you have all the time you wanted to change and learn? You still dare to ask for more!" He yells at her with hatred, he blamed her for being the one will cause a woman to be beaten; He didn't want to be that kind of man. However, what he lived with her caused him to bring out what he hated the most about himself from within. -Forget it love- said a woman who was next to her- it's not worth it- this dog was supposed to be her friend, she was supposed to support her just like she did; however he managed so that he and she hated each other and thus be able to steal it. The woman on the floor does not know how much she was framed and harmed by her naivety, nor did she know that this was the beginning of her misfortunes. Because of that woman she did not stop suffering, wherever she went she suffered verbal or physical abuse and everything was orchestrated by this woman; she didn't know until she was about to faint. "Why?" She asked this unarmed woman without knowing why she hated him so much. She never did anything to hurt him. She just laughed viciously without answering him, she didn't have to waste her time with an insect; leaving La to die imprisoned in the house where she was kidnapped. "Answer me!" She got up from her bed screaming "Eh? This looks like my room; Did I reincarnate myself in the past?" She ran to the bathroom just to see that her assumption was correct. She thanked the heavens for this second chance by promising that she wouldn't be fooled a second time.
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!!Trigger warning: suicide, Implied/Referenced Self Harm!! Warnings before sections. . This book is currently discontinued, if I find motivation to finish it it is not in the foreseeable future. . "Trust me." His voice was soft and calming, the way that a good father could be assumed to sound. "This isn't what you want, it never has been and it never will be. Confusion is difficult to work through, but if you just let me help you, I can show you that it can be worked through." He rolled up his sleeve, showing several white streaks across his skin. The other was shocked. "N-no, I'm not good for anything, I'm nothing there's nothing for me." He shook his head many times, holding it in his hands after a bit. "No." "Can I touch you?" The boy who was trying to help this poor soul had approached a few paces. His voice was now quieter, more soft, and still caring. The boy at the bridge took a moment to think, then nodded his approval. The savior gently took the boy's hands delicately in his own and gently pulled the boy back. Well, less of a pull and more of a gentle suggestion. It worked and the boy stumbled down off of the edge. The boy started to cry. How could he be so weak that a boy, the same age as him, who seemed to have the same ideas and hatred toward himself as he, could keep him from stepping off? The other simply gently led him to his vehicle and took out a water bottle out of the backseat. The boy took it and looked at it suspiciously. "It's untampered, look, it's still sealed." Upon seeing this, the boy opened it and took a few sips of water. "Thank you. For the water." The savior smiled. "It's nothing much." He shrugged. "Have a phone? If you want I can put my number in and then you'll always be able to tell someone if you're having a pissy day." Surprisingly enough, the boy agreed. . They would both be around twenty.
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A 2023 update of my one and only fic. "What happened to your eyes?" she managed to utter, her voice strained and breathless. Michael's lips curled into a gentle smile as he rose to his feet, moving toward her with a deliberate, almost hypnotic grace. His arm encircled her waist, drawing her closer until their bodies molded together seamlessly. Lydia's gaze delved into Michael's eyes, searching for answers, for some semblance of understanding. But all she found was a captivating enigma, a mystery that only deepened her intrigue. "Who are you?" she whispered, her voice barely audible over the pounding of her heart. With a tender gesture, Michael tucked a stray strand of hair behind Lydia's ear, his touch sending shivers down her spine. Her breath hitched as he leaned closer, his lips grazing her cheek in a delicate caress, leaving behind the faintest hint of a kiss. Slowly, deliberately, he traced a path to her ear, his teeth gently tugging on her earlobe as he whispered, "The Antichrist, darling."