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Arccy Shroomie
Sep 30, 2022
In Short Stories
━━━━━━━━┛ ✠ ┗━━━━━━━━ Word Count: 1,347 Warnings: Fire Created for the Tropetember Event - Let the Past Burn ━━━━━━━━┓ ✠ ┏━━━━━━━━ Made in collaboration with Elysian Triplet <3 (Part two of their entry "Let the Past Burn..." following Callista!) Distant echoes of melodies and the thundering applause of crowds lingered in the vacant halls of the aristocratic theatre as Varvara twirled around them in a memorised but very botched dance, spilling thick gasoline around herself with every turn. Her laugh carried across the walls around her, carrying its hysterical sound in place of the serene ambiance the theatre held. A rank of sophistication she was deemed too crass for; too volatile and passionate to belong. “You’re too volatile; too eccentric. It puts people off. Your place is that of an assistant, not manager. It’s best you remember that.” the words circled in her mind, only serving to increase her laugh with every repetition. She remembered them vividly, as if it had just been yesterday. She gave everything to this place. Not even having graduated from high school yet and she was already volunteering, doing random chores for a simple chance of taking a peek at the artists during practice. To get a chance to see what it was like, even if she’d never experience it for herself. Then as soon as she got her diploma, she was back, this time officially and in full force, starting out low and working tirelessly every single day to build her way up. There wasn’t a single day where she regretted all the effort she put in. Making sure everyone was alright, safe and taken care of, it wasn’t even part of her job. All she was supposed to really do was make calls but she did so much more. Gave so much more. Wanted so much more. So she did, going over and beyond to give her everything to the only place that ever truly felt like home. To make sure it could be that for others too. But of course it had to end. She dragged her hand over the wall, new canister of gasoline in hand as she came to a stop in front of the doors leading into the main hall. They were intricate in design, one of a kind she had been told. A piece of work costing several thousands and long hours of dedicated work. What a shame, she thought, but kicked them open anyway, the thud that came from it echoing across the vacant hall. A stage stood in the far end, surrounded by the orchestra pit and then rows upon rows of chairs in front of it. The carvings and decor framing the stage were nothing short of marvellous, a true show of artistic talent marked by sophisticated patterns of marble arranged in such a way that made the place feel grand; like a palace. A pair of balconies overlooking the space could be found on either side, places that had housed more than a handful of esteemed guests back in the day. Before Arturius brought it all to ruin. This had been it. Where she first met the woman she’d grown to call her friend. Callista. She worked in a different part of the theatre than Varvara, so it wasn’t often they saw each other but Varvara knew from glances she stole after hours the sheer talent the young woman held; a passion for art unlike anything she’d seen before or since. Truly a diamond in the rough. It brought forth a whole other wave of incentive for Varvara to make sure people like her friend would one day get the recognition they so deserved. But that all crumbled when he came in, the new owner of the theatre. A sick bastard by the damned name of Arturius. “Remember your place” She gritted to herself, a flash of anger flickering in her eyes before her face lit up with a grin and she started her way down the aisle on the side, pouring the thick liquid onto the ground and chairs around it, ensuring the substance soak into the the soft velvety cushions. This wasn’t just a simple act of vandalism. No. This was revenge. But not just for herself. No, no, it wasn't only herself that had gotten punished that day. The bastard had to have it out for the rookies. And specifically, the only other woman the theatre had hired aside of herself. She never forgot the sight of utter defeat on Callista’s face as she walked out of his office that day. They stumbled into each other for only a moment, but the image was burned into her mind, haunting her every day since; slowly twisting her mind from sympathy to a profound, distorted rage. And in that anger, the two become friends. Joined by shared betrayal and a mutual desire for justice. Her eyes fell onto the stage, the deserted image before her morphing into the last performance held just the night before. Who would’ve thought it would be the last moment of intentional glory this theatre would ever see? Once upon a time, the mere thought of hurting this place would never have crossed her mind. Much less to hurt it in such a violent way. To do such a thing to the very place she grew to call a home; to do such a thing to people she called her own. But now? Now it brought a smile to her face, filling her with a newfound thrill. With a frenzied giggle she climbed up the steps onto the stage, slowing her pace to take in the sense of importance the stage offered; even if it was only her and the ghosts of memories the place held keeping her company. She took in a sharp breath, letting the intoxicating smell of gasoline fill her lungs before pouring the remains of the coannister across the stage, making sure to coat it entirely. She took one final look at her home and all of her greatest moments and darkest hours it held, she hopped off the stage, leisurely making her way out of the hall, humming quietly one of the songs she had learned from stalking the sidelines. She picked up the final canister of oil she had brought with her and popped the lid off, draining its contents clumsily as she made her way across the foyer, taking a final spin around its grand and glorious bearing, the memories of radiant glory flashing in her mind only to come face to face with its deteriorated state. Courtesy of its current master obviously. For even the building itself withered at his presence. Everything he touched turned to shit. What a shame. “Theater Diamandis, it’s been a pleasure” she took a dramatic bow, paying her respects to the building one last time before she spun around, swinging the front doors open with a vigorous kick. They burst open with a loud thud to reveal the sight of her friend waiting for her outside; just like they had agreed. She tossed the canister right out the door, its contents spilling onto the floor in a messy trail from the theatre towards where Callista stood in the dark. Varvara’s laughter filled the silence of the night as she stepped out of the grand building, arms outstretched and head tilted back in relief. She came to a stop beside the younger woman, flashing her a devilish grin. “Light her up, Callie” she spun on her heel, facing the theatre as her friend lit the match in her hand and threw it onto the trail of gasoline. The flame spread with enthusiasm towards the building, as if it too was chasing the sweet scent of revenge. The theatre erupted in a wave of flames, casting a radiant light on the two women as they watched, eyes reflecting the magnificent sight of fire before them. Oh how poetic it all was, watching a thing so beautiful be consumed by another thing of equal– though vastly different– beauty. The sounds of the theatre died within it, the echoes of songs and the remnants of applause finally parting from Varvara’s ears. For once in a long, long time there was silence. Within the friend now leaning on her shoulder, she found solace. And within the roaring flames, freedom.
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Arccy Shroomie
Sep 27, 2022
In Short Stories
━━━━━━━━┛ ✠ ┗━━━━━━━━ Word Count: 878 Warnings: Single mention of blood Created for the Tropetember Event - Meet Cute ━━━━━━━━┓ ✠ ┏━━━━━━━━ Students pushed through the crowd, shoving their way to their respective locker as Vittoria made her way down the hallway, hand firm on her backpack strap as she took a look around, trying to find her way around the school, specifically to her class. She stuck to the walls as much as she could, her eyes wandering across the space, taking note of the most memorable places for future reference but as she turned forward once again, her face made contact with the door of a classroom being swung open, sending her tumbling back from the impact. “CAZZO!” she yelled out, attracting the attention of those around her as she hunched over in pain, quickly reaching a hand up for her face. ("Cazzo" is "fuck" in Italian.) “What the hell?!” Another voice sounded beside her, a tone of panic lining the voice as the figure stepped closer to her. “Are you okay?!” Ever so slowly Vittoria lifted her gaze, eyes slowly trailing up the figure standing before her until meeting with the face of her rude attacker. Long blond hair tumbled down his shoulders, framing his perfectly angelic– albeit very emo– face in a golden halo. A handful of piercings adorned his face, likely fake due to his age but they still added the desired effect of edginess, accompanied by slight eyeliner and dark circles around his eyes which could either be real or fake, who’s to say for sure. Vittoria found herself staring, wonderstruck by the pretty stranger watching her in a mix of horror and disgust. “Hello?” he asked, blinking widely at her. “You good?” “Hi…” she replied, despite the numbing sting on her nose she held her hand out for him only to catch sight of the trail of blood lining her palm. The two stared at the crimson liquid dripping onto the floor, remaining in silence until she blinked at him. “My nose is bleeding, huh?” “...yeah…” She sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose and tilting her head up, wincing at the sting as it came back in full force and the thought of arriving late to her first class on her first day. What a terrible first impression. “Hey, do you mind directing me to the nurse’s office?” she asked. “I’ll take you to her,” the boy replied, grabbing a hold of her searching arm, reluctantly walking off with her, keeping his head low to avoid the stares of his peers, turning amongst each other to gossip. # # # “And please, be more mindful of where you walk.” The nurse gave Vittoria a scolding look as she lingered by the door, nodding along to the elder woman’s lecture before saluting her goodbye and backing out of the office, finding herself back in the hallway once again. A sigh of relief fell from her lips, her head turning to the side to find the only individual that still lingered in the hallway in the middle of first period. None other than her attacker, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed and his lips pressed together into a pout. An unfortunate look, but he somehow made it look endearing. “Guilt weighing heavy on ya?” she asked, hand settling on her hip as she shifted her weight onto one leg, tilting her head to the side. The boy scoffed, peeling off the wall and stepping in front of her, keeping his eyes low to avoid her stare. “Oh, please, it was an honest accident.” he rolled his eyes, remaining quiet for a moment before continuing, his voice softening, losing the defensive edge. “I am sorry about it though… does it– does it hurt?” he glanced up at her sheepishly, the defiant look of his face fading into one of concern. Vittoria smiled, the corners of her eyes crinkling at his endearing shift in attitude. So he does care. “Why?” she stepped closer to him, a cocky glimmer adorning her eyes. “Will you kiss it better?” His eyes widened at her words, heat rising to his cheeks turning them a dark shade of red and he quickly tried to find a snappy comeback, fumbling with his words until eventually settling on a scoff of disgust, followed by his best attempt at shutting her down. “Please, I’d rather die– I-I’m merely being polite” “After you broke my nose” “I didn’t brea–” he stopped himself mid defence as the realisation hit him, his face softening once again and he glanced up at her, eyebrows knitted together. “Is it really broken?” She shrugged. “Meh, doesn’t matter. Since you’re cute, I forgive you” she winked, smug smirk plastered comfortably across her face much to his annoyance. “You’re disgusting.” he grumbled, spinning on his heel and starting away from her only to be rudely followed by Vittoria who quickly caught up with him, walking alongside him down the corridor. “You can call me that, or you can call me by my name, Vittoria” She chuckled, proud of her smooth transition into an introduction. “Nice to meet you” he replied, a smile straining against his cheeks as he looked up at her, coming to a sudden halt. “I’m… not interested” and with that he took off once again, only this time alone, leaving Vittoria standing in the hallway watching him leave. “He totally likes me”
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Arccy Shroomie
Sep 25, 2022
In Short Stories
━━━━━━━━┛ ✠ ┗━━━━━━━━ Word Count: 621 Created for the Tropetember Event - Break Their Heart to Save Them ━━━━━━━━┓ ✠ ┏━━━━━━━━ I hope I got the prompt right? I ended up rewriting it multiple times so- ;-; “You really thought I loved you?” The god’s hushed but imposing voice echoed across the vacant temple, the only sound aside of the faint dripping coming from the roof, the final remnants of the storm. Despite Charlie’s usual sombre demeanour, now they showed only cold disgust; sending an insulting look of pity directed at Rue who knelt before them. “You? Look at you. You’re beneath me. Your body is withered, your mind scarred. What could you possibly offer me?" Rue blinked widely, unable to look away from his lover standing before him, the once comforting look in their eyes turned distant and cold. This couldn’t be them, not really. Something had to be wrong with them. This wasn’t the same Charlie they had sacrificed everything for just a few weeks ago. This couldn’t be them. “Charlie—” He whispered, reaching a trembling hand out for them only to be frozen in place when the god screamed, his hand flinching back with a shallow gasp. “Don’t call me that! I’ve always hated that damn name!" Charlie's words carried heavily across the space, lined with a bitter distaste. They hesitated, the words struggling to come out of their lips as they spoke "It’s... It's ludicrous and pathetic. Unfitted for a god” “But you… You said you liked it…” his voice was quiet, barely above a whisper, trembling with every word. Charlie remained silently, staring the mortal down before letting out a low scoff, their lips straining with a smile. “I lied. Just like with everything else.” Their voice quieted and they crouched down in front of him, reaching a clawed hand for him, brushing their fingers lightly over his cheek; a gentle touch to follow the heart wrenching words they spoke. “You really think someone like me could ever love someone like you…?” Despite the cruelty of their words, their eyes were devoid of the usual glimmer that came with their threats, instead showing nothing but their uncanny blank colour. Tears gathered in Rue’s eyes, quickly slipping down his face as he stared at his god, unable to even find the words to say; simply frozen in place, too scared to move. “You promised…” “I was using you.” the words slipped from Charlie’s tongue like venom, seeping into Rue’s very soul and crushing it under their weight. “I needed someone reliable to summon me back and that someone was you. Humans are easy. They love and form attachment and that makes them loyal.” “How could you…” despite wanting nothing more than to scream out in anger, the looming figure of war itself before him convinced him otherwise so he kept quiet, speaking softly. “I- I trusted you” “Your mistake” Charlie retorted as they rose back to their feet. And with a swish of their cloak, they turned away, leaving Rue behind to watch as the person he loves walked away from him, never even as much as glancing back. His body sank further onto the ground, too weak to move any more but his eyes never faltered from Charlie’s parting figure, locked on it until they vanished from his sight, deserting him to the empty temple. A sharp sigh fell from Charlie’s lips as soon as they shut the doors, a shiver coursing through them as their shoulders slumped, head resting against the cool surface of the door. “I’m sorry Rue… You don’t know the forces at play, it's too dangerous, my love. But it's all for you…” “Zyone? Did you…” the disciple fell silent upon finding Charlie alone, taking a moment to correct herself before speaking once again. “I’ll ensure the mortal is well taken care of, master” The god turned to her, their vacant white eyes locking on the woman. “You better”
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Arccy Shroomie
Sep 21, 2022
In Short Stories
━━━━━━━━┛ ✠ ┗━━━━━━━━ Word Count: 410 Warnings: brief mention of blood, death, depression Created for the Tropetember Event - Rash Promise ━━━━━━━━┓ ✠ ┏━━━━━━━━ “Promise me, Jamie.” I felt the death grip my mother held on to with every bone in my hand, straining to hold on long enough to finish her demands. “Promise– promise me you’ll be strong. Promise me that you will not break–” Her voice caught in her throat, every word carrying through like feet on a beach of glass, each step leaving bleeding cuts that marked a trail of everything never said before. “Promise me you’ll be happy” My lips parted to speak but no words came out, my trembling hands holding onto hers as hard as I could, like if I held on tight enough maybe her soul wouldn’t slip from my fingers. “Promise me, Jamie” she repeated, her voice growing weaker with every passing moment. I blinked, the image of blood cleared from my mind as a wave of tears fell and all I could manage was a lie. A pathetic attempt to ease her mind one last time and finally let her rest. “I promise, ma” And with that, her body relaxed, her head falling back with a contented smile as her eyes fluttered shut. The ragged breathing hollowed, leaving behind only silence in her wake. But that was three years ago. Now I stand in the vacant apartment bathroom, surrounded by the darkness of my unpaid bills and weeks worth of filth stemming from an inability to get out of bed. I stand in the shell of the once happy home I shared with her, stalked by the promise I made to her in the darkest moment of my life. Her words haunt me. “Promise me you’ll be happy” I glance around myself, noticing every single thing out of place, every little thing unkempt, dirty or broken, and as I look back at the mirror hung in front of me, I’m met only with failure. The long nights spent chasing crime in the hopes it would give me enough adrenaline to get me through another week were obvious on my face, dragging my eyes low enough to horribly accentuate their depth. It was as I watched tears stream down my cheeks and onto the sink, mixing in with the remnants of blood that I knew I lied. I’m not happy. I’m not strong. I broke. Not just my promise to my mama as she lay on her deathbed, but my entire being. It’s gone. And this time there’s no one out there to pull me out.
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Arccy Shroomie
Sep 18, 2022
In Short Stories
━━━━━━━━┛ ✠ ┗━━━━━━━━ Word Count: 1,320 Warnings: Mentions of self harm Created for the Tropetember Event - Alternate Universe Soulmate AU where person gets the same injuries as their soulmate but without pain or damage. ━━━━━━━━┓ ✠ ┏━━━━━━━━ The sun shone brightly over my head, mocking my misery as it usually did. Thankfully it soon would die when winter inevitably came and I wouldn’t need to explain to literally everyone why I was wearing a hoodie in summer. How’s that for karma you ugly ball of gas? I scoffed at it, sulking in its light for another moment before the familiar voices of my school grew closer. I looked up, taking a brief look around for my group before eventually finding them sitting on the floor by the wall and I quickly resumed my usual every day smile as I ran over to them. “Heya guys!” I waved once as I came to a stop in front of them only for my smile to disappear when my eyes caught sight of Levi sitting in one of our friend’s embrace, face buried into her neck as he cried. Without giving it another second of thought I crouched down to his level, grabbing a hold of his arm to inspect him. “Levi? What happened? Are you hurt? Who hurt you? Why are you crying?! What happened?! Did you fall?” I uttered out in racing questions every thought my paranoid mind jumped onto, unable to stay quiet and actually wait for his explanation. Levi shook his head silently, wiping away the tears from his eyes with his hand before looking up at me. “Not me” he whispered, rolling up his sleeve to reveal a faded line just under his elbow. My breath caught in my throat at the sight, my stomach twisting in guilt. But before I could say anything, Levi continued. “My soulmate is hurting so bad and I can’t do anything about it” his voice broke once again as another wave of tears streamed down his cheeks. He lowered his head, his golden hair framing his face as he cried. I stared widely at him, unsure of what to even say or do. It all happened so fast, nothing could’ve prepared me to encounter this first thing in the morning… I reached my own hand for my arm, clutching it tight under the sleeve of my hoodie as I lingered close to my friend, doing whatever I can to offer him even the slightest bit of solace. Could it be…? Could it really be him? # # # The morning encounter lived rent free in my mind for the rest of the day. If I had a penny for every time I was told to ‘focus’ I might just be able to put my brooding to good use and become a vigilante. But the thought of my friend was impossible to shake. Levi had in truth seen better days himself, his face remained tear-stained throughout the duration of the day and even hours later he still snuck away to the bathroom to cry. It shattered my heart to see him like that and I did all I could really, staying with him, holding him, distracting him, but it only did so much. He was entirely heartbroken about the matter. And who could blame him? As I stood by the school stairs waiting for him to finish talking with his sporty friends I found myself dwelling on the scar again. It looked so familiar, could it really be mine or was it just wishful thinking? Could it be fate or was it just my overwhelming want for it to be him? If it was… would I even tell him? How could I? After putting him through all that hurt I doubt I’d ever be able to look him in the eye again. I didn’t deserve it. I’d be better off moving across the fucking world and forgetting he ever existed at all… or maybe just– no. Don’t think like that. “Ready?” Levi’s voice pulled me out of my thoughts and I turned around to meet with his usual subtle little smile. Even after everything he’d gone through he still offered me the same smile. What an angel. I nodded, waiting until he started down the stairs before following after him. He turned around to look up at me, about to speak up when he lost his footing, stumbling forward with a gasp. I reached out for him but I was too late, forced to watch as he landed on his knees on the hard pavement floor. “Levi!!” I called out after him, jumping down the remaining steps and quickly crouching down in front of him, grabbing a hold of his shoulder with my hand. “Are you okay?!” He looked up, lips parting to reply when his eyes caught sight of my leg, specifically my knees and he fell silent, eyes wide. I quickly looked down where he was looking to find my own knees scraped red and bruised. A gasp fell from my lips and I bolted up, holding my palms up and seeing similar bruising on the base of either of them. Levi mimicked the motion himself, finding the same identical injury on his own body. “Ro…?” his voice wavered, tearful blue eyes staring up at me in a mix of horror and utter shock. It couldn't be… My heart drummed violently against ribs, my chest heaving with every breath as I locked my gaze with him, staring at his piercing eyes as I took a step back, shaking my head. And without another word I turned around, taking off in a sprint away from him. The wind collided against my face, soothing the wave of heat surging through my body as I ran as fast as my legs could possibly carry me. Despite the muffled sound of my footsteps slamming against the pavement I could hear Levi’s voice in the distance, calling out my name with a vigour that made me shudder. Please, Levi, don’t. I shook my head at the thought, hoping that maybe if I ran fast enough– maybe if I shut off every alarm blaring in my mind that it would all go away. But the longer I ran the more ragged my breathing got and before long a pair of footsteps caught up with me accompanied by Levi’s voice. “Ro, please!! Stop!” His hand gripped my arm, gently pulling me back until I was forced to a stop, chest heaving and lungs straining for every drop of breath those broken things could muster in. Levi came to a stop beside me, reaching out for me but I turned away from him, feeling the steam of tears on my face upon finally taking a moment to calm down. “Ro…” his once soothing voice felt like nails on a chalkboard, reminding me of everything that haunted my every moment. He slipped from my arm and I was finally able to step away, lingering on the edge of the sidewalk, bordering on the silent street in front of me. “It was you… Did you– Did you know?” My eyes shut tight, my lips pursing together to hold back whatever reply my stupid brain wanted to say. I wrapped both arms around myself, holding on tight as I faced away from him, knowing that seeing him alone would make everything so, so much worse. “It’s okay, Ro…” his voice was barely a whisper but I heard it loud and clear as he wrapped his arms around me from behind, resting his head against my shoulder. “I’m here, Ro. No matter what, I’m here.” The comfort of his words invaded my mind, drowning out all the blaring thoughts that held that choke hold on me until only his voice lingered, finally letting me rest. I shuddered and his arms tightened around me, holding me close to him in a silent and so very comforting moment. I took in a shaky breath, unable to hold back the words that left my lips. “Levi, I’m sorry” He shook his head. “You have nothing to be sorry about–” “I’m sorry it’s me”
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Arccy Shroomie
Sep 15, 2022
In Short Stories
━━━━━━━━┛ ✠ ┗━━━━━━━━ Word Count: 1,156 Created for the Tropetember Event - Plagued by Nightmares ━━━━━━━━┓ ✠ ┏━━━━━━━━ I really hope this counts. I fell sick and had to write this while feverish so idk if I really understood the prompt ;-; The serene silence of the late night accompanied the god as they sat on the end of the bed, brooding like a dramatic vigilante too emotionally constipated to seek out some therapy. It was all Rue’s fault really. He was the one who pleaded with them to join him in the ‘sleep’ thing humans are so reliant on. But Charlie’s a god, they don’t need such humiliating and perilous things as leaving oneself vulnerable to anything and everything for long hours to ‘replenish energy’… It was absolutely ridiculous and they’re above such mortal things. They’d much rather stand watch while the witch takes care of his human-y needs. Gods know he needs it after that foolish summoning. But how could one ever deny those pleading brown eyes and the adorable little ‘pleaaase’ that accompanied them? Not the god of war, that’s for sure. But of course, they denied having such a mortal thing as weakness and yet the story repeated itself night after night. It took sitting awake for the sixth night in a row plagued by the remnants of the same horrifying images this ‘sleep’ had cursed them with for them to finally realise the truth. And what a bitter truth it was… for a god to have weakness… So very tragic indeed. The touch of Rue’s bandaged arms struggling to reach around the god’s figure stirred them from their brooding and they glanced back, catching sight of Rue resting his chin on their shoulder, his body clinging to their back as he mumbled sleepily. “Why are you uuuup?” “Can’t sleep,” Charlie replied dryly. Rue hummed in response, nuzzling into her shoulder before continuing. “Can’t or don’t want to?” The god scoffed, offended by the implications of his words. Granted, it’s not like they exactly wanted to sleep– this was all his doing– but lying close to him and sharing in this mortal experience wasn’t bad… the nightmares were. “Both” they finally grumbled out. “Dark visions plagued my mind” Their words seemed to jerk Rue fully awake, his eyes darting open and he leaned over the god, peeking at them from the side. “Visions? Like, nightmares? You get those?” The god nodded and Rue sat back, remaining silent for a moment before sliding his hands over their back, threading his fingers into their silvery hair. “Tell me about it?” “What’s the use?” They scoffed. “It helps” Rue replied quietly, brushing a strand of hair away from the god’s face. “Some dreams are even prophetic. Who knows what meaning yours might hold. I for one am curious” Charlie wanted nothing more than to hang their head and continue their brooding but Rue’s touch on their hair was far too comforting to pass by so they remained in place, considering his words for a moment before speaking. “It was about you” “Me? But it was a nightmare?” Rue gasped, dramatically holding a hand to his chest. “How preposterous!” He blinked at the god in front of him but upon receiving no response nor elaboration, he leaned over them, draping his arms over their shoulder and pressing the side of his cheek to theirs’. “Go ooon” “I… killed you” The amusement immediately vanished from Rue’s face, his eyes growing wide as he stared his god down, lips parted, wanting to speak but no words came out; his mind far too taken aback to make sense of what to even say. After what felt like an eternity, Rue managed to compose himself, taking in a deep breath as he resumed running his fingers through Charlie’s hair, attempting to offer that comfort once again, though not just for them this time. “How often did you have it?” “Every time I slept” Rue frowned, eyebrows knitted together in thought as he processed what they said before speaking himself. “Charlie, Are you scared of hurting me?” “Scared? No.” the god scoffed, quickly throwing out their immediate response only to fall silent right after. Ever so slowly they turned around, keeping their head low as they faced Rue. They took one of his arms and gently brushed their thumb over the coarse bandages that covered them. “But it seems I’ve done it already” Rue looked down at the bandages lining his arms, the flashes of the past week greeting his mind freely upon feeling Charlie’s touch on their concealed wounds. “My antics are no one’s fault but my own” He finally replied, offering a quiet giggle along with it, a fair though futile attempt to lighten the mood. He slid his arm from the god’s grasp, letting his hand linger in theirs’ instead. “The only hurt you’ve caused me, Charlie, is when you left.” his voice faltered, his eyes growing dark at the memory. The god looked up, meeting with the pained look on the witch’s face and instinctively they mimicked it in their own inhuman way. “Rue…” “It wasn’t your fault– I know it wasn’t” He quickly returned his gaze to them, offering them a slight smile. “But the nightmares plagued me for years, and… and sometimes they still do” “Why?” “Fear and… a lot of pain. How we feel, things that happened, it all affects us, even if we don’t care to acknowledge it– Even if we don’t know they do. Dreams are the most obvious manifestation of this. Lingering thoughts morph into vivid images of everything you fear and it haunts you when you’re most vulnerable” he shrugged casually. “That’s the beauty and the curse of being human…” “What if you aren’t human?” He smiled, cheeks perking up. “I suppose even gods fear something” But once again his smile was met only with a strange look, the god’s mind unable to really shake off his prior words. The ones about them. “Were your nightmares about… me?” “Sometimes… The specifics varied, but they were all centred around the same themes. Abandonment, being left behind, left to die, betrayed, replaced–” he lowered his eyes to their hands, watching the patterns his fingers idly traced on Charlie’s palm. “But… you’re here now and I know you’ll never leave me again. Right?” Their eyes met, his pleading soft stare against their uncertain one. They wanted nothing more than to say ‘yes’ but they’d be lying if they said their future was even remotely certain. Staying in the mortal realm without a need for them was nigh impossible and bringing a human to the immortal one was a death sentence… But if even a human could summon back a god like them out of sheer stubbornness then a god could certainly keep their human around, right? Charlie’s lips curled into a slight smile, pulling Rue into their arms and squeezing him tight. “Never again” and for that moment the haunting thoughts fell silent in their mind, occupied only by the comfort of Rue’s embrace. “You’re my favourite human, little witch” Rue laughed, snuggling into the warmth of his god. “And your my favourite god, Charlie”
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Arccy Shroomie
Sep 12, 2022
In Short Stories
━━━━━━━━┛ ✠ ┗━━━━━━━━ Word Count: 1,650 Warnings: Implied suicidal thoughts Created for the Tropetember Event - Noble Demon ━━━━━━━━┓ ✠ ┏━━━━━━━━ I really hope this counts cuz me struggled 😔 I recognised him by the colour of his uniform; skin tight bright electric blue and orange. It was impossible to confuse him for anyone else though I quite enjoyed the frustration on his face when I pretended I couldn’t tell him apart from the others he worked alongside with. Something which eventually became a staple in our peculiar ‘relationship’. But today was different. Unlike usual, my snarky remark was met only with a sigh and nothing else. How boring. So there we stood, face to face on the rooftop separated by enough distance to tease romance in a period drama, only in our case the tension was far, far more dramatic. My cape swished in the wind, a cool breeze greeting my skin as we lingered in silence after the lacklustre response I received from him. “Tell me, hero, did you miss me?” I held my arms out as I took a single step forward, flashing him my usual smirk. But again, I received no reply. The hero simply looked away, sighing once again. If he wasn’t going to respond to anything then what’s the fun? He rolled his shoulders back, moving his long hair away from his face before taking his fighting stance, bringing his fists up close to his chest. “Let’s just get this over with” he locked eyes with me and it was in that moment that I noticed him shiver. It’s not like it was something unusual considering his outfit offered little to no protection from the elements, but one would think he’d be accustomed to it after so many years on the field. I arched an eyebrow at him, meeting my hands behind my back as I took another step closer. “You’re going to fight me? Hand to hand?” I asked. “That seems rather reckless for you…” He might be one of the most renowned heroes of his time, but his power lay almost exclusively in his supernatural abilities. Bring him down to a fist fight and he’d be lucky to last a minute. Especially to someone like me. “You don’t know me” He replied, seemingly bothered by my commentary. But not the usual kind of annoyed, as if this truly offended him. “I like to think I do,” I replied, leaning forward just as he swung a punch at me. I caught his fist in my hand, a movement rather sloppy on my end but far worse on his’. Sure, physical combat wasn’t his forte, like, at all, but this was just pitiful. What was he trying to do? Punch the dust out of a pillow? I feel like he’d even do that with more vigour. I held his fist firmly in my grasp, my eyes trailing from my hold to his face. “Pathetic” I spat out, shoving him back and returning to my previous stance. “If you’re going to fight me then do it properly” My eyes lingered on him, narrowed and watching as he flicked the sting from his fist before going at it again. This time, I acted fast, stepping aside and making him miss entirely. He turned around to get me again when I swung a kick to his side, making him wince in pain as he reached a hand for the injury allowing me the perfect opportunity to kick his leg, forcing him to his knees. Two movements and he collapsed on the ground, catching himself with a hand before I grabbed a hold of his hair, yanking his head back to meet my gaze. “The hell’s gotten into you? You’re sloppy” I gritted out, growing rather impatient with this tragic display. But he didn’t reply, simply staring up at me with those innocent brown eyes looking right through me. I frowned, recognising the distance in them so I instinctively reached a hand for his brow, feeling the warmth of his skin greet mine. It was then that the realisation hit me and everything fell into place. “You’re sick” I scoffed, releasing him from my grasp. I took a deep breath, resisting the urge to kick him for wasting my time, but I simply arranged my cape back into place, turning away. “Go home before you get yourself killed” “You’re leaving?” I stopped in my tracks at his words, turning around to see him rising from the ground, a painful movement to even watch; his body straining as if he’d already been beaten half to death. He turned to look at me, holding both his arms close to his chest in a feeble attempt to conceal the trembling. “I’m your enemy. You have to fight me.” He said, though it sounded more like he was convincing himself rather than me. “Fighting you like this is beneath me.” I replied casually, earning yet another scoff from him, as if with my unwillingness to fight him while he’s sick I insulted him far more than all those times I’ve mercilessly hunted him down. “You’re delusional if you think you can take me on in your current state.” I continued, sending him a side glance “Which judging by your fever is a very plausible scenario. Go sleep it off” I was about to turn around when he stopped me once again. “You don’t get to pick when or when not to fight me! You hate me, why not take the fucking opportunity!?” he raised his voice, an obvious hint of anger lining his voice. Two uncharacteristic things for him. “Winning from you when you can barely stand isn’t a win” I narrowed my eyes on him. “It’d be like winning from a child, what is that worth?” He scoffed, teeth gritted as he looked away, chest heaving in growing frustration. He ran a hand through his hair only to grip it tight in what I could only assume was a way to ease his rage. Me being annoyed, I understood, but him? Why was he frustrated? Because I refuse to kick his ass when he’s at a terrible disadvantage? Does he want to get himself killed? “You have to fight me!” he yelled out again, body tensed for just a moment before being taken over by the shivers again. He sank back onto his knees, shoulders slumped in defeat and head hung, his face concealed by the long hair cascading down his shoulders. “Please… Please, I can’t take it anymore” I stared at the sight before me, watching a hero; the protector of the city begging for me to kill him. No life or death situation, no hostages, no sacrifice– how did this make sense? Could they really have stretched him so thin that this is all that remained? “You should know better than to ask me to kill you” I kept my voice steady, but softer than usual, devoid of the usual snark I was infamous for. “I don’t believe in giving up, regardless of the circumstances.” “I can’t do this anymore…” he shook his head, sniffling back either tears or the sickness which he insisted on making worse by coming out here. It was repulsive to see someone so righteous and kind reduced to… this. A hopeless mess. It made me wonder for how long this had been going on. How long had that smile he showed even to the cruellest of villains been nothing but a front? How many times were all those selfless acts of sacrifice nothing more than a cry for help gone unnoticed? I walked over, unfastening the clips holding my cape in place and gently placing it over his trembling shoulders. The hero looked up at the action, meeting me with teary eyes. “You don’t get to give up…” I secured the cape, making sure it would stay over his shoulders while simultaneously keeping my gaze away from his’. “The world needs you, hero. Someone needs to stop the evil in the world. Someone needs to save humanity” My words seemed to have stuck a nerve judging by the tears that rolled down his cheeks. He smiled, not like he usually did, but rather bitter and pained, strained against his face. A misplaced unbelonging thing I didn’t want to endure for another second more. “I save everyone… but who saves me?” he whispered, even his voice betrayed him, breaking before he could finish. His words reached far deeper into me than I had hoped, as if for the first time in so long I found something in him to relate to. “No one can save you other than you.” I sighed. “If your grip is weak and your mind is fated, regardless of who is holding you up, you will fall.” I lifted my gaze and met his, staring widely at me in a mix of confusion and curiosity. “But until you can find that strength, I’ll lend you my hand” I held my gloved hand out for him in the little space that separated us and he looked down at it, remaining silent as he considered it, likely reminding himself of every reason he had not to trust me. Truth be told, I wouldn’t either. But in a moment of what could only be desperation he placed his trembling hand on mine, a touch unsure of itself but I secured it with my own grasp, a gentle nature to it unlike anything I’d exercised on anyone before. For all the violence I’ve caused and all the mayhem I’ve brought onto this world, I would not have the blood of a broken hero in my hands. If ever should he cease, he’d do so standing on even ground. I refuse to take advantage of someone at their breaking point. Clearly something which no one in his life reflects. Why else would he be seeking out solace with me of all people? I don’t do feelings. “On your feet now, hero. Last thing you should do is give them the goddamn satisfaction of seeing you down.”
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Arccy Shroomie
Sep 10, 2022
In Short Stories
━━━━━━━━┛ ✠ ┗━━━━━━━━ Word Count: 884 Warnings: Cult summoning/ritual stuff, blood, brief mention of cuts Created for the Tropetember Event - Reunions ━━━━━━━━┓ ✠ ┏━━━━━━━━ Thunder roared above the temple, accompanied by the rhythmic patter of the rain against the roof, sending faint echoes into the empty structure below where Rue was, kneeling on the marble floor. He held a withered old book in one hand while the other held a lit candle that dripped wax onto his fingers, something which would sting any other day but he didn’t even notice it now; his body already numb from the effects that knife that lay discarded on the ground had caused. His eyes were set on the book, darting from one side to the other, faintly mouthing along the words until he came to a sudden halt. He took a sharp breath, easing his mind for just a moment before reciting the words written before him. “Immortal God, keeper of love, I come to you with a heavy heart. Lend me your power and grant me this wish tonight under the first rain of fall so that I may reunite with whom I lost.” His eyes darted to the carvings on the floor in front of him, watching as the faint smear of dark red liquid arranged in a circle with a star in the middle started leaking the more time went by. Just a bit longer and the pattern would be unrecognisable and thus the spell would be in vain. He had to hurry and pray real hard that it would work; there were no second chances. “I beg of you to hear my voice, oh giver of love. Anoint me with your hallowed flame.” He lowered the lit candle onto the liquid, holding it down as the flame spread across the trail he created, igniting the summoning circle in flames. He set the book and candle down, grabbing a hold of his necklace in both his hands as he rubbed his blood-stained fingers over the cool object, feeling up its shape one last time before pulling it off and pressing a final kiss to it before tossing it into the fire. The fire reached out in rage, extending its fiery limbs far into the domed ceiling, forcing Rue back to avoid its heat. He shielded his eyes from the blinding light with an arm until a loud sizzle marked its finality and the fire slowly died down to reveal a figure standing in the wake of the flames. A gasp fell from Rue’s lips, eyes growing wide as he stared intently at the vague silhouette surrounded by smoke that stood before him; too scared to move but too impatient to wait. “Charlie?” he called out, voice meeker than he had intended but it was loud enough to be heard. A low thunderous laugh echoed across the empty temple, freezing Rue in place where he could watch with wide eyes as the smoke cleared to reveal a most familiar figure standing before him. Tall, much taller than any human should be, not that they were human at all, that much was obvious, though definitely humanoid in appearance with long silver hair cascading down their shoulders, and just a few too many limbs. The god stepped out of the circle, the cold of the marble floor extending across their skin and they sighed softly at the feeling, speaking in a hushed scratchy voice, lined with the voices of everything dead and gone. “Charlie…? No one has called me that in a…” their two pairs of uncanny white eyes looked up to finally meet with the summoner kneeling in front of them. “…Rue.” “Oh my gods, it worked–! Charlie, it worked!” the human exclaimed, quickly rising from the floor and hurrying towards the god, barely even reaching their chest in his full height. He stared up at them, eyes glimmering with tears as he reached a bloodied hand for their face, gently cupping their cheek as he smiled, relieved. “I got you back… Finally, I got you back” The god smiled, reaching a bony clawed finger for Rue’s head and gently brushing away a strand of his blond hair, careful so as to not injure his frail human frame. “How long has it been?” they asked, eyes narrowing as they inspected their human for any changes which much to their surprise weren’t nearly as many as they expected. He barely even seemed to have aged at all, the only difference from the last time they met really being the cuts that lined his arms, staining the skin around them red. “Too long…” Rue breathed out, lowering his head. “Way too long” his eyes fluttering shut as he collapsed into the god’s embrace, caught in their arms as they frantically tried to shake him awake. “Rue? Rue!” their voice thundered across the temple as they held his limp body in their hands, trying to get him to wake up to no avail. They held him up, pressing their ear to his chest and immediately sighing in relief upon hearing that faint little thud exactly where it belonged. They grumbled a swear under their breath as they scooped their human up in their arms, carrying him away from the summoning circle within the temple they weren’t supposed to be in to someplace safe, leaving a trail of ash in their wake to mark their return. The god of war had risen once again.
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Arccy Shroomie
Sep 05, 2022
In Short Stories
━━━━━━━━┛ ✠ ┗━━━━━━━━ Word Count | 902 Created for the Tropetember Event | Pining (Mutual Pining) ━━━━━━━━┓ ✠ ┏━━━━━━━━ I rubbed my hands over my arms in an attempt to ease the chill that ran over my skin making the hairs stand on end as I quickly descended the school steps, finally free from prison. Was it stupid to lend my hoodie to someone in the middle of Autumn? Yes. But spontaneity spares none and neither does stupidity, both of which I’m unfortunately cursed with. I took a quick look around and spotted a familiar figure looming awkwardly by the street surrounded by a whole bunch of our fellow students. Because of course he was. No surprise there, everyone wants to be Levi’s friend. Those who don’t want to be more that is. And how could I blame them for wanting to talk and spend time with him when I’d drown in the sound of his voice myself? I’m every bit as guilty as them… if not far more. Our eyes met when he turned around, offering me his signature miniscule little smile as he waved me over. “Ro!” I hurried over, greeting his friends with a dramatic wave before turning to Levi, flashing him a grin. “Ready, bro?” I asked, giving his shoulder a small punch. He nodded and with a brief goodbye we were off, quietly making our way down the sidewalk on our usual journey home. I kicked the fallen autumn leaves on the floor, sending them shooting forward only to immediately collapse back onto the ground in a rather underwhelming display of my kick. I pouted at their mockery, holding my arms close to my chest in an attempt to keep the chilly air away from me but it wasn’t too successful. Thankfully the walk wasn’t too long. “Huh? Where’s your hoodie?” Levi asked. I let out a small laugh, shrugging. “Tygo was cold so I gave it to him… I honestly didn’t think it’d get this cold but you know… dumb is gonna dumb.” He sighed heavily and I laughed at the implication of it. He must really think I’m an idiot huh… I was about to divert the conversation with a joke when I felt a sudden weight settle on my shoulders and I immediately looked down to find his washed out denim jacket draped over my frame, just a slight bit too big on me. I glanced up to find him looking at anything other than me, his eyes darting in all directions and never settling for long. Fuck, this must be so awkward for him… I don’t want him to think that I did this just to get his jacket or anything. He’ll think I’m so fucking weird– “Levi, it’s fine– I don’t–” “I don’t need it, I got cold blood, remember?” he replied quietly, reaching a hand around the back of his neck, still refusing to meet my gaze. “Well, thanks bro” I smiled, lowering my own gaze as I grabbed a hold of the jacket, holding it in place around me. The collar brushed against my cheeks, greeting my nose with the familiar scent of him; soft floral, vanilla if I had to guess specifics… I couldn’t believe it actually smelled like him. And for someone that actively despises vanilla, I’d suffocate in this scent any day. # # # Other pov for a little spice (ノ◕ヮ◕)ノ*✲゚*。⋆ # # # “DUUUUUDEEE” I spun around upon hearing the familiar voice, quickly catching sight of none other than Ro violently sprinting my way. They came to a sudden halt in front of me, holding one hand on their knee as they leaned forward, heaving for air. I watched them in concern, about to ask if they’re okay when they bolted up, meeting me with a beaming smile on their face; a sight that always somehow managed to lighten my heart and pull the air right out of my lungs. “HI” “Hi, dude” I replied with a smile of my own, about to continue on our usual path when they grabbed my arm, pulling me right back. I turned around to see them holding a denim jacket– my denim jacket in their hand. I blinked, looking up to meet their avoidant eyes. “Here uh… your jacket.” they mumbled out, pushing it to me, forcing me to take it. “Thanks for lending it to me” They smiled at me for just a moment before skipping away, continuing down our path. I watched them walk off before looking down at the jacket in my hands, the memory of when I last saw it greeting my mind. Right… Friday on our walk home. I wonder why they didn’t return it during the weekend… An abrupt thought interrupted my deduction of motive and instinctively I lifted the cloth up to my nose, meeting with the tangy but most familiar smell of citrus. My face warmed up at the scent, my mind entertaining the thought of Ro wearing my jacket so much it actually smelled like them now. I’m never washing this again. (Mostly kidding) “Yo, DUDE!! Come on!” Ro’s voice pulled me right out of my daydream and I looked over, seeing them wave aggressively. “WE’LL BE LATE!” Right, school. I smiled, quickly catching up with Ro and we continued on our journey together, talking about anything and everything as we did. But the thought entertained my mind throughout the duration of our walk and long after class had started, lingering in my brain like their smell lingered on my jacket. God, I wish all my clothes smelled like them.
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Arccy Shroomie
Sep 03, 2022
In Short Stories
━━━━━━━━┛ ✠ ┗━━━━━━━━ Word Count: 1,427 Warnings: Mentions of starvation, sewer (ik not really a cw but it can be p gross.) Created for the Tropetember Event - Gaia’s Lament. ━━━━━━━━┓ ✠ ┏━━━━━━━━ The rumble of the highway resonated over Vincent’s head as she walked through the dense tunnel holding her backpack close and keeping her head low to avoid looking directly at anyone she’d be unable to withhold from haunting her dreams. It was a miserable sight, people out in streets, finding shelter from the rain only under a trembling tunnel which no one knew for just how much longer it would still stand. But that’s just how things were. There wasn’t anything she could do about it… not now, and likely, not ever. Chilly raindrops met her face as she stepped out of the tunnel and back into the dark, gritty street. Rain had been the one thing humanity had yet to fully strip the world off. One of the last remnants that the planet was ever alive at all. She continued down the dim alleyway, passing by the abandoned drain, yet another thing rendered useless by the collapsing city, unable to even dump into the deadly polluted ocean anymore. Now all it did was extend its stench up to greet Vince as she passed by, only this time a sound stopped her dead in her tracks. A voice, distant and quiet, vocalising a melody that tangled itself around Vincent’s mind, pulling her towards it. Without even taking a moment to think she hurried down the wobbly stairs leading into the entrance of the sewer, carefully walking along the broken down sidewalk beside the murky water. The smell invaded her nose as she entered, her footsteps echoing across the vacant tunnel, accompanied only by the faint sloshing of water; the closest thing to running water the world knew. The voice was gone, leaving behind only the echo of it ever having existed at all and the eerie silence from its wake. “Hello? Anyone here?” Vincent called out as she took a look around herself, trying to find the source of the sound. “I heard singing and I…”A sigh fell from her lips before she could finish. “I… I really walked into a goddamn sewer because I heard a voice, huh…” She leaned against the wall, feeling the moisture seep into her clothes from the cracks and she quickly backed off, scoffing out in disgust. “Awh, fuck…” “Fuck…” a voice repeated, a dainty little sound despite the swear, much unlike her own echo. She looked around herself frantically, gripping the strap of her backpack tight as her brow furrowed. “Did I just… imagine that too? The hell’s wrong with me…” As soon as the words left her lips she glanced down at the water, finding a pair of large red eyes within a black canvas peering up at her. A gasp tore from her lips as she quickly crouched down, getting closer to the person in the filthy water beneath her. “Hey there… Did you fall in there, buddy?” She let her backpack slip from her shoulder, setting it down on the ground before holding a hand out for the person in the water only for them to flinch away. “Oh, I won’t hurt you” she assured them, but her words didn’t seem to do much to plead her case. Only the creature’s eyes were above water, their hair so covered in grime and filth that it was impossible to even tell its colour and with the darkness that surrounded them, even telling their skin tone was difficult. All Vincent was sure of was their eyes, vibrant and surreal; unlike any she’d ever seen before. “You’ll get sick if you stay in there for long” she spoke softly, keeping her hands to herself. “If you come out, I’ll help you get home. How does that sound?” The creature inched closer, their head fully rising from the water to reveal a very human looking figure, set off entirely by the absurdly large eyes that seemed to shift into smaller ones the longer they stared at Vince. But despite their decreased size, their colour remained the same. “Home…” they said, their voice barely even audible. If it wasn’t for the overwhelming silence, she would’ve missed it for sure. “Yes” she nodded. “Home” Their expression didn’t change, simply repeating themself again only slightly more assertive with their tone. “Home.” “Wait… you live here?” Vincent gasped out, unable to hold back the horrified tone in her voice. “But– but this is a sewer–” The creature glanced down, their soaken hair clinging onto their skin as they raised a hand from the water, watching as the thick polluted water slipped through their webbed fingers. “Water…” they whispered, glancing up at Vincent, scanning her over time and again for a reaction. Vincent looked at their hand, her mouth falling open at the sight of the unusual webbing. “Wait, wait, wait… you’re a… you’re a mermaid??” she raised a hand up to her mouth, staring widely at the figure as she took her time to process. “I thought… I- I thought all of you went extinct during Gaia’s Final Breath– how…” her voice faltered when she realised that the creature was extremely unlikely to reply, seeming every bit as confused as her, if not more. “...I suppose some of you must’ve survived…” The look in her eyes shifted from surprise to guilt, her lips curling up into a restrained smile, a weak attempt at comfort. “God… you deserve better than this…” she sighed heavily, collapsing onto her knees on the ground. The siren extended their arms from the water reaching for Vincent’s arm, hesitantly taking it in their hands; their eyes never moving from her. “Help” Vincent blinked, tilting her head in confusion. “Help… help with what? Are you hurt?” She leaned forward, scanning the creature for injuries but they simply guided her hand down, reaching it into the water but being unable to pull her down any further. They blinked up at her, seemingly lost in thought for a moment before they let go, grabbing onto the slipper ledge and pulling themself up onto the sidewalk, landing with a splat on their side. They turned to Vincent, finding her eyes trailing down their figure. Their skin clung onto their bones for dear life, some of it calloused, most of it bruised, specifically around their ribs where three slits were located, what Vincent assumed were gills. Their skin turned into a long shimmering tale the same ashened colour as their skin, covered in enough filth to strip it entirely of its beauty. Vincent caught herself staring, quickly snapping herself out of it and scooting closer to inspect what was wrong. Her hand hovered over their tail but never touched it, her scanning over it for any sign of injury but only finding some scratches near the end. While Vince inspected the injuries, the siren ever so slowly leaned towards her, making sure to move quiet enough for her not to notice them. They inched closer, mouth opened to reveal two sharp fangs, their eyes focused solely on her flesh. “These cuts don’t seem too deep, you shou–” just as Vince turned around she met with the siren right behind her, their faces almost touching at her abrupt movement. She blinked down at them, caught in their hypnotic stare before her eyes found the exposed fangs and immediately her face softened. “You’re hungry huh…” Quickly she pulled her backpack onto her lap, rummaging through it until pulling out a single energy bar, eyeing it for a moment before handing it to the stranger. “It’s not much but it’s something” Their eyes watched her carefully as they reached a hesitant hand out for the package before taking it swiftly, struggling for a moment to unwrap it but quickly being able to stuff it into their mouth, not holding back. Vincent watched them, a slight smile curling onto their lips as she relaxed onto the wall behind her, ignoring the chill of the water seeping into her clothes this time around. “Shit’s rough, huh…” she sighed, shaking her head at the thought. “You have a name? I’m Vincent” But the siren didn’t reply, far too focused on devouring the little bit of food she offered them. It made her wonder just how long it had been since they'd eaten anything, much less anything fresh. It made her heart ache for the pain of a stranger she only met mere minutes ago. A stranger who had tried taking a bite out of her. But she knew it… the feeling of emptiness in her belly. Even now she could feel it. After all, that was her lunch she had spared them.
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Arccy Shroomie
Jun 23, 2022
In Poems
Everyone says I’m destined to be alone. ‘Love just isn’t for you’. Their label, I own. I believed these words for so many, many years. Some even forged the way I think or even feel. Now, my thoughts are tad bit more clear, but the doubts still linger, nursing my fear. Attention was never a need for me. I didn’t crave it like those around me did. How funny it must now be, to see, how desperate for the key to your glee I have been… What a sin. And oh, how wonderfully tragic it all is. Remembering how different I was back then, But what gives? I know it isn’t like me to be this emotional. But overlook my imperfections, dear love, it’s not notable. My heart beats only for these moments together. Although I must admit, writing has been a comfort when you were wherever. A myriad of stars line the sky tonight. so I write, a love verse to you. Lift the curse, so we too, can be eternal.
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Arccy Shroomie
Jun 23, 2022
In Short Stories
I loved you. So much, I forgot how much it aches to be so… empty. You ignited a fire inside me. Filled my heart with an overbearing yearning for belonging only you could fill. But now? Now you’re gone. I knew it would happen eventually. I knew from the moment I got into this life with you, that we could crash and I would burn. I knew how much it would hurt. Sometimes I wonder if I’ll ever be the same again. And sometimes I wonder…. if I ever want to. The truth is. I don’t even know who I was before I met you. I didn’t think anyone could love me. To be completely honest, I didn’t even love myself. Now I’m wondering if the high was worth the pain… if it was worth the emptiness you left behind. How dare you? Force me to taste the bitter goodbye on your lips. I want to hate you. More than anything. And I tell myself that I do. Cursing your name, distorting your image in my mind. But I can only lie to myself for so long. When all's well and done, and the stars fill the sky. I’m reminded just how much... ...I love you. And just how much, I always will.
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Arccy Shroomie
Jun 23, 2022
In Short Stories
I ran. Nothing else mattered but getting away to someplace else, someplace… safe. Everything around me was eclipsed, dawn barely breaking over the horizon as I ran through the meadow. Watered leaves, adorned with the droplets of dew, soaked my silk dress as I made my way across. Sticks and leaves crunched beneath my bare feet with every step I took. Keeping me company in the otherwise deathly quiet of the night. There was nothing left to do but run. Nothing else mattered. “DARA!” A loud scream took me by surprise and as I turned around to see who called, I fell, landing with a thud on the ground beneath me. Every sense momentarily dampened out before returning to me in a swarm as I attempted to pick myself up. Pressure built in my chest. The overbearing anxiety of having been followed making it progressively harder and harder to breathe, but I couldn’t focus on that right now. Wearily I began picking up the pace until I was running once again. No one would stop me from getting out. This time there were no mistakes.
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Arccy Shroomie

Arccy Shroomie

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