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16+ Violence Mature Content

The breakup

by vampricone6783


Warning: This work has been rated 16+ for violence and mature content.

*This story is underneath my folder titled “Clowns, magic, murder, and lies”. Gacha Club character designs are under my forum titled “My character designs<33”. Enjoy!*



Penelope sighed, looking into John’s sweet eyes. She had called him to the living room earlier, he had no idea. Nova was at school.

“Why do you keep asking me to heal you? You know that I can’t.” Penelope said, voice breaking with sobs, on the edge of insanity. Every time John was hurt, he asked for her help, as if she could do anything.

“Because deep down, you can.” John said.

He always said that, didn’t he? He loved her and he wanted her to be a savior, a saint.

“I can’t. I’ve said this to you countless times and yet you still don’t listen. If you’re never going to understand, then…then we can’t be together.”

John’s eyes brimmed with tears. His face contorted into one of shock and broken-heartedness. Penelope wanted to cry, but she kept them hidden beneath her skin, for his own sake.

“Why?” He asked, voice breaking with sadness.

“You’ve…you’ve seen what I’ve done to you. I’ve broken your skin. I’ve caused you to bleed. If you keep asking me to help you, then…then I might kill you. Do you understand? You could die because of me.”

“I…I can’t do that. I love you too much to make you stay.” Penelope added.

Penelope abruptly turned away. If she looked at his face any longer, she would burst into the same sorrow he was in.

“You…you…you can say goodbye to Nova tomorrow. I’ll find a place for you to live.” Penelope said. Nothing about it would be easy, but damn, why did saying it have to sting so much?

“Penelope, can we talk about-“

“No. It’s done.”

“But I-“

“John, please.”

He wasn’t stopping. He wasn’t giving up. He had to give up, before she did something horrible.

Penelope’s tears were rushing out at her, clawing at her. Her melancholy thoughts were tinted with fury, with rage, like that of a demon.

Why didn’t he stop? What made John think that they could be together?

“Penelope, I-“

“No!” She cried out. Why did he keep trying?!

Something crashed against him. Penelope turned her head up, for she had buried her head in her hands seconds earlier.

She threw a glass vase at him with her own feelings, charged by her own powers.

Penelope grabbed her phone on the couch, hand shaking. The vase was on the coffee table moments earlier, sitting prettily. It took only one burst of her power to break it into shards seeping into his skin. The bits that didn’t get in his skin glinted maliciously on the couch, like the eyes of an anticipating monster. He wasn’t moving, his breaths were shallow. Blood pooled around him, staining the white fabric.

She needed to call the hospital, tell them of his predicament. But she couldn’t say too much, because they would never believe her. They would never know.

Why didn’t John leave? Why didn’t he go away?

She was a monster, undeserving of his desire.

Didn’t he understand that?


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Sun Aug 18, 2024 9:38 pm
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Iggy wrote a review...



Hi vampricone6783! Dropping by again. Not picking on you, I just prefer to review short stories LOL

As the prior reviewer commented, I am also not familiar with the world from which these characters come from, so I apologize for not being familiar with any of the lore. Nonetheless, I feel that I was able to learn a bit of the characters just from this scene alone, which is good! You included some useful information in this short story that made sense to anyone who stopped by to read it.

First off, I enjoyed this. You were able to capture such raw emotion in this scene. I felt the desperation from John, trying to reach Penelope, trying to connect with her in a non-physical way but being unable to. I felt the pain, anger, and fear that Penelope felt, as she tried to push John away for his own safety, despite her desire to selfishly keep him close. It was all very sad and tragic and the ending left the readers with a great cliffhanger that would surely have anyone turning the page to learn what happens next.

However, I believe there are some ways that you can strengthen this. For one, I think you should try to use italics less often. I understand your desire to use them but italics are used to bring emphasis on very specific words and if they are being used consistently then they lose their impact on the reader. Readers will naturally glaze over the emphasis if they are consistently seeing words that are italicized. If you wish to bring emphasis to words without using italics, I would suggest strengthening the language you use so that your words carry a heavier impact.

For example, this quote from your story:

“Why do you keep asking me to heal you? You know that I can’t.” Penelope said.


you could remove the emphasis from the word "can't" and instead add more descriptive language to the way Penelope spoke. Instead of just saying "said", describe to us how she said it. Did her voice break? Did it shake? Or was she speaking clearly? Was she loud and angry, or sad, or soft-spoken?

Just play around with it!

Besides that, I think my only other remark was this line:

The vase was on the coffee table, sitting prettily. Shards of it were on the couch, around him.


I am just a little confused as to how the vase is "sitting prettily" when it's implied that the vase smashed into John and shattered? Unless that's relevant to her abilities and she's able to restore damage done to items. Not sure, but figured I'd mentioned it. I would rework that line and perhaps change it to something else.

Besides that, I truly enjoyed this story and I love the strong imagery you have included in this. My favorite line was this one:

Penelope abruptly turned away. If she looked at his face any longer, she would burst into the same sorrow he was in.


This was fantastic and I love your choice of words.

I hope this review helped!

~Iggy




vampricone6783 says...


Thank you for reading! It was a vase earlier, but it broke. I%u2019ll edit it.



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Sun Aug 18, 2024 4:05 am
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Moonlily wrote a review...



Hello Hello, I hope you dont mind me popping in with a quick review. I will apologize that this might be short as well as the fact I haven't read all of this series. Forgive me if I get something wrong, I still hope that I can brighten your day nonetheless. I should stop rambling and get started huh? With that being said, let's get into it, shall we?

Overall I thought this was a very emotionally charged piece. You know for a second I thought this was going to be one of the rare light-hearted pieces from you or at least as lighthearted as it can get. The end proved me wrong that's for sure, it was a shock in a good way.

You did a good job portraying the heartbreak and care these two share and it carries the piece. I felt bad for both of them as they seemed like the right people doing the wrong things only to end in tragedy. The foreshadowing didn't feel too heavy-handed despite being so short as it is naturally a worry someone in this case would have only for it to become a self-fulfilling prophecy.

Adding her shock confusion and self-hatred at the end gives the reader a good gut punch after they process what just happened.

He loved her and he wanted her to be a savior, a saint.


I loved this line I think it portrayed the pressure he was putting on her as well as the almost weaponized incompetence used to do so. Even if it is meant to help her not hinder her it still hurts them in the end.

Now moving on to feedback I promise this will be short and very nitpicky. I could only find two small things to bring up this time. As always I am not a professional and you don't have to use any feedback I give you.

He loved her and he wanted her to be a savior, a saint.


I do like this line, however I think there might be a small typo. It could just be one of those things where different places spell the same word differently. Just to be safe I would change it to this.

He loved her and he wanted her to be a saviour, a saint.


Lastly, this one is a big nitpick but something I noticed.

Shards of it were on the couch, around him. He wasn’t moving, his breaths were shallow. Blood pooled around him, staining the white couch.


To me, the use of couch twice comes off as a bit clunky so I would change the phrasing a bit.

Shards of it were on the couch, around him. He wasn’t moving, his breaths were shallow. Blood pooled around him, staining the white fabric.


Regardless I found this a very emotionally complex and intriguing read. It's hard not to feel bad for both of them because it's clear they weren't trying to hurt anyone yet something horrible happened all the same. That is sadly very realistic in some cases magic aside.

I am curious to see what comes next. As always keep writing and remember to drink water!





If it looks like a duck, and it quacks like a duck…you should not be so quick to jump to conclusions.
— Cecil Gershwin Palmer