Mallory stood before Michael Langdon, the Antichrist, in the ethereal realm that existed beyond the confines of time and space. The aftermath of the apocalypse had led them to this place, a heavenly dimension where Mallory had harnessed her powers to navigate through the fabric of reality itself. As they gazed upon the celestial expanse, Mallory's eyes shimmered with determination, and Michael's with a blend of curiosity and trepidation.
A delicate, glowing thread manifested before them, suspended in the boundless realm. Mallory explained to Michael the rules of this heavenly journey—they had to hold onto the thread to remain connected to their intended destination. The thread would guide them through Michael's personalized version of heaven, constructed from the depths of his desires and fantasies. But the consequence of letting go was severe—they would be lost in the maze of heavenly illusions, forever trapped in a dreamscape of their own making.
As they ventured forth, Michael marveled at the utopian landscapes that unfolded before him. Fields of eternal sunlight, rivers of liquid gold, and skies painted with hues unseen by mortal eyes surrounded them. Michael's version of heaven was a testament to his twisted sense of beauty, a manifestation of his desire for absolute control.
However, in the midst of this paradise, Mallory felt a strange energy, a presence that transcended Michael's twisted creations. Sensing this anomaly, she followed an invisible force, leading her away from Michael's thread. Michael, unaware of Mallory's deviation, continued to explore his heavenly creation.
Mallory found herself in a secluded glade, where the air was filled with an otherworldly serenity. There, she encountered a figure bathed in radiant light—an angelic being with wings of purest white. The angel turned to face her, revealing a countenance that mirrored Mallory's own.
"Mallory," he spoke with a voice that echoed through the celestial expanse. His eyes, mirrors of Mallory's own, held an eternity of regret and love. "My child, I have yearned for this moment, watching over you from realms unknown."
Mallory, caught in a whirlwind of emotions, couldn't help but feel a mix of joy and sorrow at the sight of her long-lost father. Gabriel extended his arms, and Mallory willingly embraced him, tears of happiness streaming down her face. "I thought you were lost to me forever," she whispered.
Gabriel explained the forbidden love that had torn him away from Mallory and her mother, a powerful witch. The cosmic balance demanded their separation, and Gabriel had retreated to the celestial realms, haunted by the consequences of their union. He revealed that Mallory was the key, a force that could have prevented the apocalypse or unleashed it upon the world.
As father and daughter reunited, their conversation delved into the intricacies of fate, love, and the delicate dance between the mortal and celestial realms. Mallory's heart swelled with a mix of understanding and forgiveness as Gabriel shared the sacrifices he had made to protect her.
In the meantime, Michael Langdon, enraptured by the heavenly illusions, reveled in his version of utopia. As Mallory let go of the heavenly thread to embrace her father, Michael felt an abrupt disconnect, a jolt that shattered the seamless perfection of his paradise.
"Mallory!" he cried out, a guttural sound of despair echoing through his dreamscape. His eyes, once filled with the euphoria of his own creation, now betrayed a vulnerability he had never known. Love had crept into his heart, and it terrified him.
Back on Earth, Michael descended into chaos, his mind a tempest of anguish and desperation. The dream of heaven shattered, replaced by the harsh reality of loss. He, who had reveled in the ecstasy of power, now faced a darkness that mirrored the void in his soul.
Driven by a love he didn't understand, Michael vowed to find a way back to Mallory, even if it meant navigating the darkest corners of his own malevolence. The journey to reclaim Mallory and mend the tapestry of his fragmented heart had begun, and the celestial realms awaited the clash between the forces of light and the shadows that lingered within Michael Langdon's tortured soul.
(to be continued... Will Michael find his way back to Mallory or will she be lost to Heaven before her time? Michael will literally have to battle the forces of Heaven to return Mallory to her earthly realm with him.)
NO BULLYING.NO SUBLIMINALS ON THE STREAM or Discord towards me or anyone. That's still bullying. If you're a real friend you'll come to me in private and talk it out LIKE AN ADULT. What are you, 12? I don't care what conclusions you jump to, I don't put up with automatically thinking the worst of me. If you do, I might cry at first but chances are I will move on and not talk to you. Do not disrespect me. (just happened to me). I will defend myself and tell you to stop. Do not lie about me and say I attacked you when I only told you to stop and defended myself IN PRIVATE from your public attacks, IN THE FIRST PLACE. Bully mentality will not be tolerated. (If you are a resource site, I doubt you want to hurt your reputation doing that... JS. Most are not THAT stupid and childish).
If you have blocked me on a page or are slandering me, get rid of the rest of your pages on my profiles please.
OOC age must be over 21. I write spooky themes. This is American Horror Story after all.
I write multi-para mostly and sometimes novella. You don't have to match me.
I prefer to discuss plots but spontaneous stories are okay too. Maybe surprise me! But no sex starters. I hate those.
I will write scxual themes ONLY with very strong chemistry and after a WELL ESTABLISHED story. It has to make sense. And take it off of rpme, they don't allow that.
Please be patient with replies. I work during the day and often have to wait til my days off. I am an active writer and often post blog fanfiction (you will notice my posts on the front of RPme with the titles in ALL CAPS and character name. At least once a week or more.
Have fun! I love to make friends and I'm a friendly person or try to be. I am approachable and have discord if you ask for it.
You can find all of my pages if you search #AHSbutterfly in the verse search. I have a bunch, but only maybe 2 or 3 active in long stretches depending on if I have stories. I go where the writing is. I have mostly AHS pages.
I have bad anxiety, so please be kind and patient with me and I will do the same. I try to be kind, but I'm not perfect and I'll try to do right if you'll let me. But I will stand up for myself (I often feel bad when I do even if I feel right). Do not mistake my kindness and sensitivity for weakness. Some people recently ended up being rather sorry later, when they found out I might be meek at first, but will lay down the law if pushed or treated badly. ;)
I feel so much better now that I have peace. All the Bullying is gone. :) See my new Rules (on blogs) and Now for One of my silly stories. I NEEDED THIS.
In the mystical world of American Horror Story Apocalypse, Mallory, the whimsical magical empath, found herself facing a peculiar challenge. One day, she received a telepathic cry for help from an unexpected source - none other than Cookie Monster from Sesame Street. It seemed that the lovable blue muppet had been taken against his will and confined to rehab for his uncontrollable cookie obsession.
Feeling an overwhelming sense of empathy for Cookie Monster's plight, Mallory knew she had to do something to set him free. With a twinkle in her eye and a mischievous grin, she hatched a comical plan to rescue her cookie-loving friend.
First, Mallory transformed herself into a janitor at the rehab facility, complete with a mop and bucket as her disguise. With a flick of her magical wrist, she even managed to conjure up a nametag that read, "Mallory the Mop Mistress."
Sneaking around the rehab center, Mallory used her empathic powers to sense Cookie Monster's distress. The poor muppet was attending group therapy sessions, where he was forced to share his feelings about cookies and endure lectures on the perils of sugar addiction.
Determined to liberate Cookie Monster from the rehab facility, Mallory gathered a team of misfit magical creatures. She enlisted the help of a friendly ghost, a shape-shifting imp, and a teleporting unicorn with a penchant for mischief.
The plan was simple but utterly ridiculous. Mallory, disguised as the Mop Mistress, would create a diversion during the next therapy session while her magical allies spirited Cookie Monster away to freedom.
As the therapy session began, Mallory burst into the room, dramatically slipping on her mop and sending suds flying everywhere. The rehab staff were too busy dealing with the soapy chaos to notice the ghost opening a portal for Cookie Monster's escape.
Cookie Monster, realizing his chance for freedom, dove headfirst into the portal, shouting, "Me want cookies, not therapy!" The unicorn, imp, and ghost followed suit, leaving behind a bewildered group of therapists and rehab staff.
With a poof, Mallory disappeared, rejoining her magical allies and a very relieved Cookie Monster on the other side of the portal. As they all laughed and cheered for their successful escape, Mallory could feel the joy and gratitude radiating from Cookie Monster.
The unlikely team of magical misfits decided to celebrate their victory with a feast of cookies in the enchanted realm they now found themselves in. Mallory couldn't help but marvel at the absurdity of the situation – a magical empath, a ghost, an imp, a unicorn, and a cookie-loving muppet sharing laughs and cookies in a dimension beyond reality.
And so, with the taste of victory and cookies on their lips, Mallory and her newfound friends continued their magical adventures, ready to face whatever peculiar challenges the mystical world of American Horror Story Apocalypse had in store for them.
In the eerily quiet halls of Outpost 3, where the air was thick with tension, strange occurrences began to unfold. Objects levitated without warning, brooms swept the floors on their own accord, and chairs slid across the room as if possessed by mischievous spirits. Little did anyone know, the source of this magical chaos was none other than Mallory, the seemingly innocent and oblivious survivor.
Michael, the enigmatic figure with a penchant for mystery and dark arts, couldn't help but notice the peculiar events unfolding around him. Intrigued and secretly amused, he decided to embark on a quest to unravel the mystery, all while maintaining an air of nonchalance. His devilish grin hid the fact that he, himself, was the antichrist with a flair for the magical.
Mallory, blissfully unaware of her newfound powers, continued about her daily routines, oblivious to the levitating objects and enchanted brooms that followed her every move. Michael, donned in black, watched her from the shadows, plotting how to approach this magical conundrum without revealing his true identity.
One day, as Mallory sipped on a cup of surprisingly well-brewed post-apocalyptic coffee, Michael decided to make his move. Casually strolling into the room, he feigned innocence and struck up a conversation about the peculiar happenings.
"Have you noticed anything... unusual around here lately?" Michael inquired, a twinkle of mischief in his eyes.
Mallory furrowed her brow, glancing around the room at the levitating cups and dancing cutlery. "Unusual? No, not really. Just the usual post-apocalyptic weirdness."
Michael chuckled, a sound that sent shivers down Mallory's spine. "You know, Mallory, sometimes people discover hidden talents in times like these. Magical talents."
Mallory's eyes widened, and she nervously glanced at the floating objects. "Magic? No way! That's... that's not possible."
Michael leaned in, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "But what if I told you that you're the cause of all this? You, Mallory, are a witch."
Mallory gasped, her hand clutching her cup of coffee. "A witch? That's ridiculous!"
With a mischievous glint in his eyes, Michael continued his charade. "Oh, but it's true. I can help you unlock your magical potential, teach you the ways of the arcane. Embrace your inner witch, Mallory."
At first frightened, Mallory hesitated. But as Michael continued his persuasive act, she found herself strangely drawn to the idea. Slowly, he began to train her in the mystical arts, concocting elaborate lessons that involved floating feathers, enchanted incantations, and the occasional levitating broomstick.
As Mallory began to embrace her magical abilities, the once ominous atmosphere in Outpost 3 transformed into a peculiar blend of chaos and enchantment. Unbeknownst to her, Michael reveled in the success of his deceptive plan, enjoying the amusing spectacle of magical mishaps and newfound powers.
And so, in the midst of the post-apocalyptic madness, Mallory, the unwitting witch, and Michael, the charming antichrist, forged an odd alliance.
I have made up with Ring of Fire and their leaders Phoenix and Homicidal.
ROF is still around, members writing amazing stories.
We figured out that there were whispers and lies in all of our ears and we all defended ourselves.
I feel bad because I should have just talked instead of being a big ole chicken. I found out a lot of things, and they actually came to my defense. It really touched me.
A lot of misperceptions on my side were thought and I apologize and for going off about it. I really wasn’t trying to slander anyone. I thought I was defending myself and instead should have found out. I feel terrible. I tend to get emotional in a conflict if I really care about someone and kind of over pour at times and I’m trying to be better. It’s no excuse.
THEY ARE GOOD PEOPLE AND I WAS WRONG.
Please, I’m cleaning the slate. No more mention of negativity.
No need for anyone 'to protect' others because I’m friends with someone.
That’s a BS HATEFUL excuse to be cruel and punish others.
(We are adults here. No need to be petty or narcissistic over something that doesn’t effect or involve you. How does that 'protect' anyone if you don’t have them anyway and are blocked LMAO. It’s people’s selfish egos and pride being controlling, that’s all. They’re wrong.
I do not want anyone mistreating or being abusive to others. That’s hateful, shameful and causing such drama hurting innocent people (happened to me too, PARANOID people making ASSumptions and false accusations -WHERE'S THE PROOF lmao. Who the heck cares whose friends with who! Stay mad :) Boo hoo.)
It feels good. I want them to be happy. And I met new group members and some are old ones too.
They are beautiful people! So many I was mistaken about.
My paranoid ass needed a time out.
I just want peace. Whatever happened, it’s the past. I’m not perfect, but I always did care.
This is all I will say on the matter.
This season is about reconciliation and peace.
Much love, and I'm grateful for ALL of my friends.
In the tranquil days before the apocalypse cast its dark shadow, Mallory, the unsuspecting witch, found herself caught in a tide of magical mischief that would make even the most seasoned witches raise an eyebrow. Bored with the usual incantations and coven dramas, Mallory took a stroll along the beach, gazing wistfully at the horizon.
Mallory decided to voice her whimsical desire. With a sly grin, she said, "You know, sometimes I wish I were a fish. Just swimming around, no drama, no chaos."
To her surprise, a mischievous sparkle in Madison's eyes signaled something more. In the blink of an eye, Mallory found herself transformed into a vibrant blue tang, floating in the open ocean.
"Madison, what did you do?" Mallory shouted in a series of underwater bubbles.
"Oh, relax, fish-face. It's just a little magical escapade. Enjoy it!" Madison's voice echoed through the water, barely containing her laughter.
Embracing the absurdity of the situation, Mallory swam through the ocean, exploring the coral reefs and encountering a quirky cast of sea creatures. As she met each marine friend, she couldn't help but draw comparisons between them and her coven companions.
As she swam through the ocean, she encountered a flamboyant clownfish that bore an uncanny resemblance to Madison. The Madison-fish was adorned with the most dazzling seashell accessories, a veritable underwater fashionista.
"Sweetie, you wouldn't believe the horrors I've seen in these waters. It's a sea of fashion faux pas! Thankfully, I'm here to fix it," Madison-fish declared, adjusting her seashell earrings with a fin-flip.
Further along, Mallory encountered a sweet and nurturing seahorse, embodying the essence of Zoe. Zoe-fish was immersed in a deep conversation about the complexities of seahorse romance and underwater dating etiquette.
"Just remember, love is like the ocean – vast, deep, and occasionally filled with jellyfish stings," Zoe-fish advised, nodding sagely.
As Mallory explored the vibrant coral reefs, she stumbled upon a regal sea turtle with a flamboyant shell pattern – the Myrtle Snow of the ocean. Myrtle-turtle spoke in eloquent prose about underwater fashion crimes and the importance of impeccable style beneath the waves.
"Darling, even in the depths of the abyss, one must strive for sartorial excellence. The ocean is my eternal runway!" Myrtle-turtle declared, gliding with a touch of aquatic grace.
In the heart of a mysterious underwater cave, Mallory encountered a brooding figure surrounded by an ominous aura – a skittish angelfish who bore an uncanny resemblance to the fearful Antichrist, Michael Langdon. Michael-fish, akin to the sea-witch from "The Little Mermaid," had a dark plan to take over the ocean depths.
"Mallory, you're swimming in dangerous waters. Bow down to me, your aquatic overlord, or face the depths of my aquatic fury!" Michael-fish declared, attempting an ominous laugh that sounded more like a gurgling hiccup.
Unfazed by Michael's fishy power grab, Mallory and her newfound underwater friends embarked on comical adventures. They faced challenges like dodging an overly enthusiastic school of synchronized swimming jellyfish and navigating through an underwater maze of seaweed.
As their fishy escapades unfolded, Mallory couldn't help but find humor in the familiar traits of her coven companions. Even Michael's attempts at underwater villainy added a touch of absurdity to their oceanic shenanigans.
Eventually, the magic that transformed Mallory began to wane, and she found herself back in the gardens of the coven, dripping wet and gasping for air.
Madison, with a triumphant smirk, said, "Well, that was fun, fishy. Miss us already?"
Mallory, dripping with seawater and smiling, replied, "More than you can imagine. But you know what? Even in the depths of the ocean, the drama follows."
And so, with laughter echoing through the beach, Mallory's fishy escapade became a tale told with fondness, a lighthearted memory amid the impending darkness of the apocalypse.
In realms of TRUTH and shadows cast, Where hypocrites their masks hold fast, A tale unfolds of lies unmasked, Of gossip's venom, karma tasked.
Behold the stage, where whispers sly, Like serpents slither, low and nigh, Deceitful tongues with venom filled, Their tales of falsehood deftly skilled.
In this tapestry of woven lies, A puppet master in disguise, A player keen, with knowledge vast, I stand, the knower of the past.
With eyes that pierce the darkest night, I see through masks, the false delight, No secret veiled, no truth concealed, For knowledge wields a potent shield.
The HYPOCRITES, with hearts so cold, Their sanctimony, a story told, But fate, a judge with righteous might, Weaves karma's web, both dark and bright.
GOSSIPS gather in hushed array, Their whispers poison, night and day, Yet little do they grasp or see, The justice that awaits, decree.
LIARS spin their tales of deceit, A tangled web beneath their feet, But truth, a force that cannot wane, Will rise, and falsehood's grip disdain.
As shadows dance and truths emerge, THE HYPOCRITES, their faces surge, Exposed, laid bare in the harsh light, No more to hide, no more to slight.
GOSSIPERS, their tongues now stilled, The karma's call, their fate fulfilled, A reckoning swift, a justice sure, As lies unravel, hearts endure.
LIARS tremble as truths unfold, Their castle built on falsehoods old, Crumbles now, a shattered guise, For karma's gaze, it never lies.
In this epic tale of cosmic lore, I stand, THE KNOWER, evermore, For knowledge is a noble guide, UNVEILING TRUTHS, where shadows hide.
(Find this in Bulletins too. Will be writing an interactive version for Phoenix when I wake up LOL)
The moon hung low in the night sky, casting a silvery glow over Miss Robichaux's Academy for Exceptional Young Ladies. Inside the academy, the air buzzed with the energy of magic and secrets. Among the students, Phoenix, with her sunset red hair and piercing eyes, moved with an air of mystery. Her telepathic powers, once a tumultuous force, had transformed into a unique ability to communicate with spirits, yet her fiery personality remained.
Mallory, a recent addition to the coven, found herself drawn to Phoenix's enigmatic aura. Despite Phoenix's guarded nature, a genuine connection formed between them. Mallory's kindness and sincerity had chipped away at the walls Phoenix had built around herself, and soon, a deep bond formed between the two witches.
One evening, as they studied in the dimly lit library, Mallory stumbled upon an ancient love spell involving candles and a midnight vigil. Excitement sparkled in her eyes as she shared the discovery with Phoenix. Intrigued, the duo hatched a plan to cast the spell in secret.
Under the cloak of darkness, they sneaked into the academy's greenhouse, where the scent of exotic plants filled the air. With chalk in hand, Mallory carefully etched the intricate symbols of the spell onto the floor, and Phoenix placed candles at each point, their flames flickering eagerly in the magical air.
As they chanted the incantation, the candles' flames turned a mesmerizing shade of pink, and swirls of ethereal smoke enveloped the room. Unbeknownst to them, the magic they unleashed would have far-reaching consequences.
The next morning, chaos erupted within the academy. Michael Langdon, not the harbinger of doom they had feared, had arrived. Instead, he professed his love for Myrtle Snow, his fashion sense an unexpected topic of discussion. Myrtle, ever the fashionista, scolded him for his advances and, with a flair for style, decided to give him a makeover, dressing him in all black Balenciaga attire but with red gloves.
In the midst of this unexpected romantic comedy, Phoenix and Mallory couldn't help but giggle at the absurdity of the situation. Little did they know that Fiona, the Supreme herself, was watching with a mix of anger and confusion. She stormed into the room, her power causing objects to fly around as she berated Michael and Myrtle.
"Love spell, indeed!" Fiona's voice echoed through the room, her eyes ablaze with fury. "What have you two been up to?"
Phoenix and Mallory exchanged guilty glances, but as Fiona's temper flared, they couldn't help but feel a sense of mischief dancing in the air. The love spell had certainly brought unexpected, and somewhat entertaining, consequences to Miss Robichaux's Academy that night.
The dimly lit corridor echoed with Mallory's cautious footsteps as she approached Michael Langdon's bedroom. The grey Victorian maid dress clung to her figure, and her high bun accentuated the seriousness that lingered in her expression. The events of the previous night haunted her thoughts, the unexpected surge of fire erupting from the fireplace during her interview with Michael. She didn't understand why or how it had happened.
As she hesitantly pushed the heavy door ajar, the room revealed itself in a soft glow from the ambient lighting. Michael's laptop sat on the desk, its screen illuminating the room with a pale light. Her heart quickened as she noticed her name, Mallory, accompanied by a questioning mark, on the screen. Bewilderment flashed in her eyes as she approached the desk.
Just as she leaned in to get a closer look, a sudden chill ran down her spine. She felt eyes watching her, an inexplicable force in the room that went beyond the cold concrete walls of the outpost. The hairs on the back of her neck stood on end as she stumbled backward, tripping over the bucket she had set down to clean earlier. In an instant, she found herself sprawled at Michael's feet.
Michael, who had been silently observing her, leaned forward from his seated position. His intense gaze bore into her, curiosity and something deeper flickering in his eyes. "Mallory, isn't it?" he inquired, his voice a smooth, calculated cadence.
Mallory nodded, flustered and struggling to regain her composure. "Yes, sir. I'm sorry for intruding; I just saw my name on your laptop, and I—"
Michael interrupted her with a gentle smirk. "No need to apologize, Mallory. I find you intriguing, and I have a feeling there's more to you than meets the eye."
A mixture of confusion and apprehension lingered on Mallory's face. "I don't understand. Last night, something happened during the interview. A fire… I don't know what I did."
Michael's gaze softened, a hint of empathy in his eyes. "You're not like the others here. There's a power within you, something magical. And it seems we share a history, Mallory, though I can't quite put my finger on it. It's as if there's a fog in my memory, but I'm starting to remember kindness, care..."
Mallory furrowed her brow, trying to make sense of his words. "Kindness? Care? I'm just a servant, sir. I don't know what you mean."
Michael reached down, offering a hand to help her up. As their hands touched, a brief, vivid flash raced through Michael's mind—a distant memory of Mallory, a connection that transcended time. He pulled her to her feet, a conflicted expression on his face.
"I believe there's more to both of us than we realize, Mallory," Michael murmured, his gaze lingering on hers.
