Maddi's Writing Library discussion

"guess I'm just not what you need haha"
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I have days when
All my feathers fall out and I
try to put them back in
But they kind of just wither away
turn all grey.
“Are you okay” I ask.
but you tell me you’re fine and
That’s the end of that.
Sorry.

A short story I wrote with two characters that my partner and I roleplay. Not a poem but...... I really liked it.

For context, these two characters have had a bit of a rough past. Error is- or rather, was- an incredibly manipulative, lying, and quite frankly shitty partner. He was in love with someone else the entire time he was with Abraxis, only being with her to use her status and abilities to get what he wanted. He ended up, during a massive fight with someone else, dropping an entire building on her [she didn't die] and then leaving her to suffer on her own. A couple years later, they got back together, he then did almost the exact same thing again. They then got back back together another 15 years later, and this time Error is actually trying to heal.

Anywho, lmao. Here's the story.
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Story 5- “And the World Comes Crumbling Down” - Erraxis
Tags: Heavy Angst, Hurt / Comfort, Mention Of SH Scars, Healing, Depressive Episode, They’re Both Bad At Feelings, Abraxis Bloodhorne Needs A Hug
She curled her wings around herself, shuddering a bit. The tremors rocked the bed, and Error lifted his head to look at her.
“Abraxis?....” he murmured sleepily.
She tucked even further into her wings, ignoring her husband’s hand as it came to rest on the small of her back.
“Abraxis,” he repeated, slightly louder, and sat up to peer down at the larger demon with a worried expression. Anxiety started to flare in the back of his mind as the fog of sleep fell away from him, giving way to a low, dull pounding of worry. “Hey. What’s wrong?”
The winged demon flinched away as Error tried to rub her back. She stared up at him through an opening between her wing and her shoulder, and Death almost drew his hand back instinctively at the terror in the two eyes he could see. Her eyes, despite being pitch-black and lacking pupils, had a ring of orange around them due to how wide they were, and black tears pooled in the corners. Even her scarred third eye was looking around so quickly it appeared to be shaking.
She looked like she was inside a nightmare.
“Don’t….. Touch m-me,” Abraxis whispered, and her voice cracked. The magic that she usually used to keep her scars hidden and healing faltered, and she let purplish-black blood drip down her wings and arms and torso without seeming to care. Error reached for her again, but then stopped himself and pulled his outstretched hand away again.
He paused, both talons in the air, unsure of what to do or how to help her. His smile faded as he looked down at his wife– so broken. So at odds to what she left him as. She’d used to be so powerful, so strong and brave and able to hold the world on her shoulders without faltering; when had she ever cried before they were together?
He’d done that to her, he realised suddenly– she’d said so, Olivia had said so, but…. “Dear….. Please….. How can I…..?”
The Healer shuddered violently and turned her head back to the sheets. Buried her face in them, like she wanted them to steal her breath and leave her dead for a second time.
She probably did want that.
“D-Don’t h….. Don’t hurt m-me.”
“Lovely, please,” he whispered to her, daring to reach forward again and gently place his hands on her shoulders. “I wouldn’t. You’re– You’re safe here,” he added quietly, helplessly.
She thought he was going to hurt her.
That, more than anything, was what made hot tears well up in the corners of his eyes. He lifted his mate into a sitting position, and wrapped his arms around her; burying his face in her chest and trying to hold back the tears. He couldn’t help her, he couldn’t heal her, he thought to himself, hopelessly trying to pour his guilt and his sorrow and his need for her to stop feeling so bad into her. Fix her. He wanted to fix her. “What do I– please. Wh-what do I h-have to do? H-How do I– How do I f-fix it?” he mumbled into her nightshirt.
Please. Just tell me how I can make it better.
He suddenly realised something. She’d never cried before, not when she had been the Overlord of Pain. Death had only ever seen his lover cry after he’d done or said something to her.
Abraxis didn’t even fight her husband as he moved her, only shifted like some kind of ragdoll and remained silent other than her breathy sobs. After a long minute, she spoke. “Wh-where am I?...”
Error’s shoulders hunched, and he hid himself in her. She didn’t know where she was? Was whatever he’d done to her that bad, that it had caused too much pain for her to subconsciously recall this place– and now she’d forgotten? Did she even know who he was? “You’re home,” he replied numbly, but he didn’t even believe himself as he said it.
“I h-have no ho-home.” The way she said it was so emotionless and numb that he instinctively pulled back to look at her, searching her face for a hint as to what exactly was going through her head. He found nothing. Nothing at all lay behind her eyes or her expression besides empty defeat.
He gently cupped her face in his hands, trying to ignore the panic– the pure terror– that rose in his gut, leaving him shaking. He could lose her if he wasn’t careful. He wasn’t sure he could live anymore if he lost her because of his own mistakes– she’d died plenty of times before, and he’d reset them, but never had he directly caused her so much pain.
“Hey…. come back,” he whispered, fresh tears spilling down his cheeks. “C-Come back to me.”
Abraxis stared down at him with unseeing eyes, like she was looking past him. Error focused some of his magic on healing her as he knelt there, keeping her blood inside her body as opposed to staining the sheets and her own scales.
He kept repeating those words. “C-Come home. Come b-back to me. Come back,” he said again, some of the panic he was tamping down slipping through in his tone and the way his hands trembled.
She was silent, her ragged breathing the only hint that she was even still alive. The Death Overlord thought he saw a flicker of something in her face, but that could have just been wishful thinking.
Long minutes passed, and he stayed there with her; quietly repeating the same sentence over and over again, desperately hoping against hope that he wouldn’t lose her. At some point, he started telling her, and the repeated words faded into a whispered plea and silent sobs.
“Don’t…. Abraxis. Anna. Pl-please, don’t leave me again. I-I can’t lose you, I–..... I just got you back. You w-wouldn’t do that to me.” He dropped one of his hands to one of hers, oh-so-gently interlacing their fingers together. “On the day you left, I…. kept thinking to m-myself, “she’s coming back. She can’t just leave”. But– you didn’t come b-back, you left, and I h-had to wonder what the hell I’d d-done wrong, how I’d screwed up s-so badly that you c-couldn’t put up with me anymore.” Error shook his head, his bottom lip trembling with the effort of holding himself and his wife together as he took a deep breath and squeezed her hand. Any kind of reaction– he’d take anything, even anger. He deserved it anyway. “A-And now I realise just how….. How b-bad it was, th-that I…. that I recognised that I was m-mistreating you, and I just…. W-wondered why you were hurting? What was wrong with m-me?”
The fallen angel took another shuddering breath and slowly released his wife’s hand, pulling away from her slightly. “I w-won’t give up on you again, I won’t g-give up on us. E-Even if you’ve a-already given up. I m-made that mistake o-o-once already, and I’m n-not doing it again.” He stroked his thumb over her cheek, lifting his other hand back to her face as he whispered “come back to me” again and leaned up to kiss her, softly, tenderly. Oh, how it hurt him to feel how unresponsive she was, how her only reaction to that kiss was to shift a bit like a ragdoll.
Error poured his soul into that kiss. He held the sides of her face like if he let go, she would drift away into the shadows again and he’d lose her, for good this time. Just as he was about to pull away, keep speaking, do something to try and help her, he felt something curl around his wrist, and he glanced down to see a tendril of smoke-like shadow wrapped around his wrist and hand. Another tendril curled around his midsection, and he couldn’t help the smile of heart-breakingly strong relief that he gave as he broke the kiss off.
“You’re n-not….. Giving up a-again?....” Abraxis whispered, and one of her talons flitted up to find her mate’s hand again. He gripped her hand like a lifeline.
He lifted their joined hands to his mouth and pressed a soft, tear-filled kiss to the back of her hand, right to one of the scars that ran from her middle claw to her elbow. He couldn’t help the sorrow that roiled in his gut at that– such a deep scar. Where had it come from? When had she gotten it? Why? Who’d given it to her? He avoided the thoughts that she could have done it to herself– and that he could have stopped it from happening– as he replied quietly, his mouth still pressed to her skin. “No. Never. N-Never again. I will never l-let you go again.”
The ghost of a smile flickered on his wife’s face for just a moment. “O-Oh. That’s……” she trailed off, instinctively huddling closer to her partner’s warmth. “Th-Thank you.”
“I’m s-so, so sorry, m-my love,” he murmured as he wrapped her in an embrace again.
She gave a real smile this time, even though he couldn’t see it. Just for a moment, for these few minutes in the dead of night, she felt the shadows of her past creep away; and she could see a future. They would heal. Together.

teh end :P

kay this is no longer poetry. just for writing. because.... this shadowvanilla hurt/comfort i just wrote???



“Let me be your…… Friend,” Pure Vanilla Cookie had said, in the calmest and sweetest voice that anyone had used towards Shadow Milk Cookie.

Naturally, he thought it was a lie. After all, he’d taught himself to expect nothing less, and he’d already done so many horrible things to the Ancient, hadn’t he? Why would such a wonderful Cookie want to be his friend after all that he’d done?

“....What….? Friend? You want to be my…… friend?” he’d said, forgetting to put up that mask of scornfulness and hatred that he always wore for just a moment. The look of such hope and joy on Pure Vanilla’s face…. “You….. You are nothing to me. Nothing!!!-”

And then Pure Vanilla had left, leaving the Beast completely alone with his thoughts and regrets.

Witches forbid that he have regrets about the many things he’d done to get the other’s Soul Jam. That brief feeling when they had joined, that was worth it. That was what he’d been looking for. That’s what he told himself as he used the broken shard of a mirror– the mirror that he’d used to try and convince Truthless Recluse that they were one in the same– to carve away his regrets into the dough of his arms. Nobody was there to stop him this time, he thought bitterly, jam beading up and dripping down his arm. Not one of the other Beasts. Not his puppets. Not the Ancient with a pretty face and an even prettier way of lying to him. Not even Candy Apple Cookie was there to stop him.

…..Why did that make him feel so sad?

He dropped the shard of mirror, ignoring the thin line of jam that gleamed on the sharpest edge of it, and wrapped his bleeding arms around himself as he crouched in the dusty, broken ruins of his Spire. So engrossed was he in this brooding that he didn’t hear footsteps behind him, soft and gentle, just as the Cookie who was approaching.

“I thought I would find you here.”

The Cookie of Deceit looked up suddenly, baring the one fang he had in a hiss of rage. “You. You! Silly, silly silly silly Vanilly, oh, you just couldn’t leave me here to crumble, could you?”

Pure Vanilla tilted his head to the side, looking down at his counterpart with an expression of pity and concern. “My dear Shadow Milk….. Your dough–”

“–Is looking just as lovely as ever, thank you very much,” he snapped in reply, standing up and yanking his jester sleeves down over his arms again. He outright refused to let the other see how difficult it was for him to stand, how painful it was to even move his legs. But it wasn’t like anyone had ever asked why he chose to float around the Spire instead of walk. “I don’t want your help. Leave. You already destroyed my Spire just to save your silly little lying, dirty, cheating friends. I don’t want your help!! I don’t want you and your sympathy, always– Always pretending you care!! Back away!!!-” he repeated, his voice breaking and rising into a yell. Pure Vanilla stepped forward, his frown deepening as Shadow Milk Cookie stepped back and nearly collapsed to the floor. He left his staff where it was, not even noticing as lily vines wrapped around the base of it and kept it standing.

“Please….. Let me help you….. I only want to help,” he murmured soothingly, He kept taking steps forward, and the Beast continued taking steps back until his legs finally gave out and he crumpled to the dusty floor. Shadow Milk snarled again, almost crawling away now. Nobody who didn’t look close enough would have noticed the way his eyes– not the ones on his face, but rather, those in his hair– seemed to be almost tearful, and definitely afraid.

He let out another furious hiss and frantically searched amongst the rubble for something, anything to defend himself with. “Go away. Go away!! I don’t want your lies! Leave me alone!!!”

Pure Vanilla Cookie continued his slow approach until the Beast was pressed up against a large chunk of debris, then dropped down to his knees next to the Cookie. “It’s alright. It’s alright, I’m not here to hurt you,” he said quietly, reaching forward and placing a hand on Shadow Milk’s shoulder. “You’re hurt. Let me heal you,” he pleaded, moving his hands to gently clasp the other’s.

Shadow Milk hissed again, though the sound was halfhearted and tired. He hadn’t realised how much energy that moving that much would take. “L…..Leave me….. G-Go away,” he slurred. Why did he feel so weak? What was happening? “I-....I d-don’t wanna h-...... h-hurt y-y…..”

“I know you don’t,” Pure Vanilla murmured, slipping his arms underneath his counterpart and lifting him up with ease. The Cookie of Deceit distantly recognised that, as the Ancient’s sleeves slipped up a bit and exposed his dough to his many eyes, there were thin, golden lines running across Pure Vanilla’s arms.

Scars….? Were those….. scars that were hidden under his Ancient’s sleeves? Shadow Milk Cookie didn’t understand why he felt so afraid at that knowledge as he tried to lift a hand to Pure Vanilla’s face, tried to make him look away. –Please….. Stop looking at me with such pity,– he wanted to say, tried to say, but he just couldn’t find the words. Everything was so dark. He should have healed his dough….. He shouldn’t have walked as much as he did. Where was he?
–Please, Nilly. Please….. Don’t look at me like that…… Like I’m someone to be saved…… After I hurt you…. Please, Nilly, please just let me crumble here. I deserve it–

“I’m here, my dear Shadow Milk,” Pure Vanilla whispered again, grabbing his staff whilst somehow still carrying his Beast. “I know you can change. Sleep now. Rest, Shadow Milk Cookie.”

The Beast Cookie didn’t understand why that soothed him so much, nor why slipping away into darkness felt so right. As long as his Nilly would be there when he awoke….. Surely everything would be alright.

sorry dont know if you want me to comment here or not but do you want me to change the name?))

yeah that would be nice lmao, change it to like..... jay's ramblings or smth
and if you want you can put "comments welcome" on it so people know they can talk here

is that good?

yeah thank you :3

sorry i really thought id keep it poetry but i dont have any other writing groups that i can share short stories in, sorry :(

no problem

and its fine, when i get the chance ill read them lol

'nother ShadowVanilla fic with angst n stuff

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Truthless Recluse was tired. Actually, “tired” was an understatement; a better term would have been “drop-dead exhausted and running on fumes”. Unfortunately, there wasn’t much he could do about it, being as sleep didn’t really come easily in the Spire of Deceit with a terrifying Beast Cookie roaming the halls as he pleased. He’d been getting pretty good at hiding his insomnia, but even Candy Apple Cookie– who was well-known for being dreamy and oblivious to her surroundings– had started to notice his lack of energy, which was even more surprising considering the fact that he hadn’t had energy at all since becoming Truthless Recluse.

“Lookie, lookie~ My favourite Cookie!!” Shadow Milk exclaimed as Truthless Recluse stepped into the….. Could it even be called a dining room? “Someone’s up late, I see. Did you have an interesting night?”

He merely nodded and took a seat at the table, letting his staff lean against the gingerbread. Talking took too much energy these days. As he reached for the tray of jellies in front of him, one of his sleeves slipped down. Before he could think to cover it, the Cookie of Deceit appeared behind him and grabbed his wrist.

“Well now, what’s this? Is my Nilly….. Cutting himself? Oh no, no no no no no, we can’t have that!!” His voice started out with a hint of something almost panicked, before it spiraled all too quickly into that theatrical, jovial tone he usually used.

Truthless Recluse removed his arm from Shadow Milk’s grasp and took a jelly for himself. “It is nothing. I simply tripped and broke a mirror,” he lied, ignoring the tiny and barely noticeable twinge of guilt that he felt at lying so easily. He busied himself with eating his breakfast while his [boss?] stared at him.

The floating Cookie crossed his arms after a few long seconds. “Are you telling me a lie? Oh my goodness! Pure Vanilla Cookie, telling me a lie in myyy Spire!” He put a hand on his chest dramatically, looking at Black Sapphire, who looked mildly impressed. Candy Apple, who had just bustled in with another tray of jellies, set said tray down and clapped enthusiastically.

“Hooray, hooray! You got him to tell a lie!! I knew you could do i–”

“Hush,” Shadow Milk Cookie hissed quietly, and his maid immediately shut her mouth; though she didn’t look dejected at all at the reprimand, simply happy that her master had spoken to her. “Now, now, Nilly. Usually I’d be flattered, but not when it means the harm of my favourite little puppet. Come now! We’re off to heal those silly little marks!” With that, he grabbed Truthless Recluse’s– who quickly snatched his staff– arm and floated off down a hallway with his toy being partially dragged behind him.

–Hm. Was that…. A touch of concern that I heard?– the former Ancient wondered silently as he was pulled along. He was pushed– albeit gently– into an infirmary that he’d noticed a long time ago. The room was dusty with flour, and the rather plush beds looked like they hadn’t been used in many years, but the fact that there was an infirmary in Shadow Milk Cookie’s Spire was….. Confusing. He sat down on one of the least dusty beds and leaned his staff against the sugar-spun fluff.

“I assure you, there’s no need for healing,” he began, but the Beast Cookie cut him off with a wave of his hand and a ‘tut-tut-tut’.

As he bustled around, still floating whilst rummaging through boxes and cabinets, Shadow Milk replied with a firm tone. “Nonsense! Of course there is! I can’t have my favourite cookie crumbling on me. How am I supposed to regain my full power if you’ve crumbled, hm?” Truthless Recluse wasn’t sure if his counterpart had meant to make, or even noticed, the pause between his third and last sentence. –Definitely concern…… But….. Why?–

The Cookie of Deceit floated over to the former Ancient and assumed a cross-legged seat in the air before lowering himself a bit and taking the other’s arms. He pushed his sleeves up and opened a small bottle of some sort of salve that smelled like blueberries and milk before almost gently rubbing the salve into Truthless Recluse’s dough. He hummed as he worked, some quiet, old tune that TR distantly remembered from his childhood….. Where did he know that tune?

Ah, he remembered now; that was a lullaby he used to hum to his Cream Lambs when he was very young. The knowledge that Shadow Milk Cookie had been watching him since then wasn’t new, but knowing that he’d remembered something so small and insignificant definitely was new. He studied the Beast as he wrapped sugar-cloth bandages around his arm, trying and failing to decipher what plan was being made here. The Cookie of Deceit didn’t do things out of compassion, he always had a plan for things, and that plan always benefited him somehow. There was no empathy in Deceit.

….Was there?

“All fixed,” Shadow Milk declared in a sing-song tone, pulling his servant’s sleeves back down and tossing the roll of bandages behind him. “Now, Nilly…. Don’t let me find you doing this again…. Or there will be consequences.” His tone dropped into something quite frightening, and the eyes in his hair opened wide, staring directly at Truthless Recluse for a moment before they closed and he returned to normal. He patted the former Ancient on the head with an innocent expression. “Hmm, maybe I should be keeping a closer eye on you.”

“......You already keep eyes in my staff. What more can you do?” he replied in a deadpan voice, and Shadow Milk Cookie glared at him with his hands on his hips. TR couldn’t help but notice that the eyes in his hair, his real eyes, weren’t looking at him.

With a dramatic wave of his hands and an almost nervous-sounding laugh, he spoke as though his servant was stupid. “That’s to make sure you eat, Silly Nilly. Since you seem Witches-bent on starving yourself and losing all your jam by ‘tripping into mirrors’, I have to watch you all the time.”

“Why do you care so much about whether I eat or don’t, or cut myself or don’t, or sleep or don’t?” he murmured, only realising his mistake after the words had been said aloud.

“You’re….. Not sleeping?” Shadow Milk echoed, frozen for a moment. He shook his head quickly to wipe away a frown. “That won’t do either! You’re to take a rest. Right here, and I’m not going anywhere until I know you’ve slept.”

Truthless Recluse sighed. That was….. Probably the least helpful thing that could have been offered to him, actually. Sleeping with an abusive[?] Beast Cookie in the room didn’t sound great. “No, thank you. I’ll get a night’s rest when my duties are complete,” he replied.

The Cookie of Deceit appear quite suddenly in front of him, wearing a smile that looked almost strained. “Your duties are over,” he stated, and the magic that kept him floating flickered and then faded, letting him gently sit down on the infirmary bed next to TR. He slowly laid down, close to the edge, allowing his servant the room he needed. The former Ancient settled down as well, studying the way Shadow Milk moved stiffly, as though he was sore.

“Does it hurt to move?” he asked quietly, and the Beast Cookie looked away– with all of his eyes this time.

“......None of your concern, Silly Nilly. Go to sleep.”

For some reason, it felt almost easy to let his eyes drift closed and his breathing slow. It had been so difficult to sleep every night, but listening to Shadow Milk Cookie’s gentle breathing was….. Comforting. And maybe the Cookie of Deceit wasn’t quite as bad as he seemed, what with the healing for no particular reason.

Yes, maybe Shadow Milk actually did mean some sort of kindness in his actions….