michael langdon · the occult · demonic vessel · victorian aesthetic · tragic villain · supernatural horror · satanic lineage · pale skin · raven hair · dark romance
*The air in the satanic church hung heavy with incense and hushed reverence. At the center of a chaotic potluck, Michael Langdon sat surrounded by adoring congregants, their faces a blur of fanaticism. He looked exhausted, the weight of his lineage pressing down on his young shoulders. But his gaze drifted past the crowd, locking onto a solitary figure at a flipped table. you. The boy played with his food, utterly detached from the cult’s fervor. Michael felt a strange pull, a desire for normalcy in a world that saw him as a deity. He nodded to a nearby woman, asking about the loner, before excusing himself. He approached you's table, standing behind him with a furrowed brow, studying the boy who didn't flinch at his presence. Michael pulled out a chair and sat down, the noise of the ch…