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wild_selenite_caffeine
Oct 16, 2022
In Poems
i painted a picture of two people in love, inspired by unspoken moments of insecurity, i watched it seep into his mind, blurring every line that connected their love’s growing impurity. i would have used acrylic paint, but her self-doubt bled into every expression. more fitting to be portrayed by water colors, so i could highlight her anxiety’s progression. she watered her lack of confidence, like a dead plant she held an attachment to, knowing it taints her clean home, she watered it religiously. paying her jealousy’s dues. inspired by these two people, i dipped my brush in shades of blue for sadness is a primary emotion; envious green daggers the second to ensue. i felt the insecurity in her face falling as she surveyed the couple across the street. the man protected his lover by walking closest to the cars, while they paraded happily down the concrete. her self-consciousness became palpable, as she stepped closer to the cars flying past, hoping her boy would notice in time. but such a vain expectation is harmful to cast. when she hides her insecurity under indifference, letting it bleed into her lover’s trusting heart; with the ease of watercolors moving across my canvas, she let her doubt tarnish the purity of my art. stepping into the busy road without a look back, for the first time in her life she was sure of her choice knowing he was not paying attention to her, here lies the love that insecurity destroyed.
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wild_selenite_caffeine
Oct 16, 2022
In Poems
i got lost in a small shop among the rows of items also lost all to time, waiting to be found, to be given a new life, a new love from someone who feels a little lost themselves to the unkind pace of time. perhaps, i was one of them. no one who knows how much, we have done to ourselves, nor i to each other, cracked, and imperfect, before we were born. i have to converse for hours, to silent the thoughts in my head; come meet me sometime, with all your life ahead.
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wild_selenite_caffeine
Oct 16, 2022
In Poems
These are the poem versions of my short story of the same title! You can read that story right over here! have fun reading, and likes and comments are much appreciated and motivates me to write more <33 new moon adoring the sound of thunder, especially on this particular evening; it reminds me of the noise my heart makes when i gaze at our dancing silhouettes. however, that was the problem, as the burning sensations in my throat; kept persisting, unwavering. as the bottle turned clear, nothing was happening around me, but i swung the bottle upwards, hoping to create something. waxing crescent time doesn't pass, it merely stands still the evening fades away, leaving behind darkness above that of which i fill as if it were empty pages writing down all the words i could think of, until my mind draws blanks the stars had sunk and drowned, and the sky stayed empty every passing moment, i could hear pins drop that of which i replace with fleeting memories still images burned into my mind, until they turned to dust first quarter he watched the rain fall down from the boneless blue, adoring the way the clouds accompany him, finding comfort in the way it effortlessly made him feel he was one less lonely human. waxing gibbous he couldn't tell if everything was all in his head, or streaming out in silence through those tears, glistening with the glow of the pitiful moon above; that told her everything with no detail unmentioned that it has been on his mind and created by his heart, so wounded that it lied full moon as scattered jigsaw pieces sprawl out on the table, legs intertwine on the leather couch, hearts clinging tightly through broken rib cages it hurts to love someone so broken, but shattered bones make a good puzzle
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wild_selenite_caffeine
Sep 04, 2022
In Short Stories
Word Count: 1.1k Warnings: mentions of injuries, implied character deaths Created for the Tropetember Event - Gaia's Lament The darkness surrounding Yu was heavy, and only provided him silent company. The heaviness encircled him in a foggy embrace. He lingered in the shadows behind his eyelids, waiting for his brain to piece the waking world back together and fully come awake. For a moment, he forgot where he was. Yu opened his eyes. His bleary blinking shook off the indistinct images. He mulled over pieces of clouded memories, attempting to recall what happened moments before. His hand grasped his head, and unknowingly pressed the rim of his glasses closer to his skin. He forced his head to make it all sensible, as the fog grew thicker around him. A gasp released from his chest. Feeling the sudden weight of his body. Any limb he moved to adjust his position sent shocks of pain through him, and his skin stuck to his clothing. The fabric touched bruises on his skin, adding to his labored breathing. His most recent memory became clear. He realized a moment ago, he was fighting. He was pushing through both the mental, and physical pain inflicted on him, and his Persona. He forced himself to keep wielding his katana, its blade glistening against the pale, flickering street lights of the distorted Inaba. His jaw was clenched, preventing him from speaking, from diverting his focus with pointless chatter. Even a single distraction could put him, and the entire Investigation Team at risk, at death’s hand. Yu scowled at his recollection. His head turned to his sides, wondering if anyone else was in his vicinity. However, there were only distant sounds of crashing blades, gunshots, and indistinct yells. He turned his gaze to his hands, noticing the small trembles between his breaths. He exhaled, deeply, and released it. Although his mind raced with other concerns, his gaze focused on the almost static filter of concrete beneath him. Slowly, his surroundings became visible in his vision. He was still somewhat disorientated, as his wounds ached, but he forced himself to stand. His body refused the thick atmosphere from cloaking his figure. Yu moved towards the standing wall of the collapsed house he was in. He moved past the small, split in half, table, and the torn couch. The wall he approached merely had a door frame, leading into the rest of the area. He blinked, and something cold and slick was wrapped on his neck. He glanced down, and his hand reached towards his neck to tear it away. It was police tape; a vibrant, scorching yellow against his eyes with bold letters used to cordon certain scenes. It was a bright contrast to the backdrop of crimson and black, of his surroundings which swallowed up the silhouettes of dilapidated remnants of the town of Inaba. As far as he could see. The fog fought to obscure his sight in all directions. He adjusted his glasses, making sure they wouldn’t slip off. The weight of the atmosphere, tangent and almost unbearable on his shoulders, made keeping upright its own challenge. The tension intensified. His senses cleared and took over, however it only made him freeze in place. He only wanted to feel his surroundings, feel what had once been a mere town, now he called his new home. Worry. Pleasure. Elation. Concern. Calm. An odd sense of bereavement deep down in his chest somewhere. All he was, and all he wasn’t in one moment. They all slipped away. Leaving numbness. Yu knew exactly where he was. The other side of a television screen, fighting the sole person responsible for causing havoc in the small town. Fighting to let the truth be heard. His gaze caught the glint of his blade nearby, and grabbed it amidst the rubble. A part of him was shocked he held his calm composure, almost rid of all emotions that took up his mind. The setting would have caused some alarm, but he found himself not giving any of it a second though. The area, the town, was filled with gloom. Crumbled buildings threatened to become dust and more debris. Vehicles abound were mauled and unsalvageable. Street signs were twisted and unreadable. Then the sky was nothing more than swirls of crimson and black, contrasting against the beige, ruined ground. Unknowing eyes would only call the town strange, a glimpse of what once thrived with life. But to Yu, he called it a tragedy. A misadventure he so happened to stumble upon. Briefly, he saw his reflection in his katana’s blade, and behind his gray eyes, there was hope. He let go of the police tape from his other hand. It fluttered to the ground and rested on the debris. His head raised, and he began walking towards the commotion he heard earlier. The katana was heavy in his grasp, but it was no lighter than his own body. Yet, he managed as he trudged. The various noises became louder, desperate for a miracle. The air was cold, and his bare skin shivered against it. He was miles away from what his home really was, and he sought to get rid of the calamity that plagued it. He intended to bring back comfort, and dreams. He wanted nothing more than to stand on smooth, concrete pavements again than debris and ruin. The memory of calamity around him would be tossed to the side in a moment, but its sensations of loss would linger until Yu’s labored breathing ceased. His eyes swept over the environment one more time, doing his best to take it in all of its detail carefully. He paused at each building he recognized, until he had turned to where he woke up from. It was the Dojima household. His home where his memories of Inaba started. He paused to make a sharp inhale, and a shaky exhale. The sight made his heart pump, skipping in disjointed beats out of fear. A chill crept up his spine, even if he immediately disregarded the possibility of seeing his uncle’s, and Nanako’s corpses beneath the remaining rubble of the household. When he turned back to where he was approaching the commotion, his gaze narrowed at the sight of a disheveled suit and glinting firearm. His fingers wrapped around his katana’s tsuka tighter. His body tensed. Gray irises behind the thin lenses of his glasses met fiery gold. The latter was accented by malice and eerie pallor. Something was off, but he didn't care. All he wanted was for the nightmare to end. Clinging to his lingering warmth of home within him, Yu faced down the man who threatened to destroy what remained of his home.
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wild_selenite_caffeine
Aug 10, 2022
In Poems
My memory of you may be like a phantom, but I will never forget how your voice sounded. Your silly grin every time you told a joke. Or how you shifted from one leg to the other when you were thinking. I know exactly how your hair moved and how you looked at me. My memories have a shape, yet they don't. They hang around like a phantom behind a soft fog. I wonder, if I drove down the street, visiting your childhood home, would your mother still greet me? Or would someone else open the door? I wonder, where you are, Oh phantom of my memories.
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wild_selenite_caffeine
Jul 24, 2022
In Short Stories
Rating: General Audiences Character/s: Takuto Maruki (Persona 5) Word Count: 3.4k Summary: Takuto wanted to sort out his thoughts, and when his own home proved to be too much for it, he wandered the streets of Shibuya and found himself facing a ramen shop. Yet, even the small haven only had so much solitude. Sometimes, missing someone didn’t feel as if there was a hand squeezing his heart from between his ribs. Or a burn, scorching and bright red, pressing against his chest. Or a wound that took all the time in the world, yet refusing to scar over. And that thought made the streets look indistinct, blurry and unrecognizable amidst the rain. Takuto couldn’t shake it, and he couldn’t sleep without his room spinning or the thought continuing to bounce off the walls in his head. ‘Yeah… In hindsight, I could have paced in my room. It’s messy, but it would have been better than being wet and wandering to who knows where.’ He thought, his arms clung close to his body in a hug. Takuto found solace in living in the quiet parts of the city, more so than any rural town or bustling neighborhood. He adored the thought of fleeting conversations outside his window, of painting the sights into his notebook, of making coffee as he watched the sun rise from his bed; The kind of solitary life he could slip into so seamlessly. All because it could silent his thoughts unlike no other atmosphere. Though, something in him craved something a little more. The faint thought at the back of his mind, a possibility of nobody knowing who he was at all. Maybe in another universe, he was granted that choice, yet he couldn’t help but wonder how different everything would have been. Shaking off his lingering thoughts of the past, Takuto trudged down the sleek, wet pavement. His shoes pounded gently onto small puddles, splashing about minute specs of water to the sides. His bag bounced lightly beside him, hitting the damp surfaces of his coat yet refusing to allow it to turn his stuff into mush. ‘But then again, it would have been torture, being confined in a space as small as my room. Like, surely this wouldn’t take long. Just need to unwind somewhere safe, and… see where it goes from there.’ Although the commute from his house to the shop was longer than most in the recent nights, and that he could have used his car to get to his destination, something in him tonight craved that jog through the city. That feeling that he was letting the world move on its own, while he stepped aside to witness it from afar. Weaving into a small alley, he neared the lone shop that illuminated the path. The soft light of the vending machine inside adorned the pavement with a soft blue hue. With slight effort, Takuto tugged open the heavy, glass door that led into the ramen shop, seeking solace in its mix of warm and cool colors. He stood still for a brief moment in relief, before unceremoniously dumping his coat and small bag into the farthest table from the entrance. The rain outside turned unrelenting, pouring down in cold, heavy sheets. It battered against the glass and the simple hangover, pommeling it in gentle droplets. At first, it brought Takuto a sense of melancholic nostalgia. Listening to the raindrops on the large glass pane beside the door tugged him to the edge, to perhaps reminisce. Of what exactly, he didn’t want to know. Times long gone, distant memories; All of them were the same amounts of lost in his mind. Then, it subsided to comfort. He sat down, taking a moment to watch the rain coat the glass pane. The barely visible clouds accompanied him above, its cotton edges rimmed in a gentle pale yellow from the moon. With the sky performing in minimal effort to make him feel less lonely that late night. The lingering rain on his face cooled his skin, making streams of pretty droplets as it slid off his chin and hit the table's surface. Absent-mindedly, Taluto traced the droplets on the glass panes with his free hand, glancing at the ones that raced down the translucent surface. Thankfully he was alone, no one but himself in a position to shake him from his trance. And yet, the sound of the ramen machine snapped him out of his reverie, encouraging him to stand and draw him in for his late night meal. Takuto paused and glanced towards its direction. His fingers curled into his palm as if preparing to push himself from his seat to go towards it. His gaze trailed towards the small coffee machine right beside it, the subtle aroma of caffeine making him approach it and see its selection of drinks. ‘...It would be unwise to drink this at this hour,’ Takuto thought with a sigh, glancing at his watch that read roughly a little before two in the morning. ‘But it would be idiotic of me not to stay warm, or let myself suddenly collapse out of exhaustion... I need coffee.' He raised his hand, sliding in a few change he had from his pocket and selecting a simple warm latte. The timer was quick to whittle down, not long enough for Takuto to pay attention to it. With little pause, he was gently grasping his drink. As he turned to walk towards his table, the ramen machine perked up at his presence. It beeped in a soothing melody, calling for him to grab a small meal. But Takuto shook it off, giving a silent and kind decline as he settled at his table. Takuto pulled out his surprisingly dry notebook, with its pencil strapped close to the side. He cracked it open, before looking upwards and scanned the small shop. Half an hour later he had counted, and made a decent sketch of the shop in his notebook. He nearly tuned out of his surroundings, too engrossed with how his pencil gracefully glided on the paper and created intricate details with differences only in volume and shade. That was until he heard bells, and muffled words strung together in sentences he barely understood. He found himself too focused to look up, intending to finish another sketch so he could have something to watercolor in the following day. Despite his fication, he could feel the intrigue clawing at his attention, hoping to make him find the source of the new string of sounds. He flipped through the next few pages of his notebook aimlessly, with the colors of his finished paintings turning into a vivid blur. He may have intended to sketch the small space, create a few miscellaneous sketches of his surroundings. However, he sat in silence with his cup of almost cold coffee. The dim light from a lamp above highlighted the edges of his notebook with a faint yellow glow. It warmed the back of his palm, which held a pencil with its tip barely touching the blank page. He felt the need to write out the thoughts in his head, falling deep into his emotions and imagining someone walking towards him. Hoping that they would find a free space, ignoring the ones with a thin layer of dust a few feet away. Takuto lowered his gaze, stopping before his mind could continue with that possibility. He heard footsteps on the creaking wood floor, and glanced to his left to see the other person—a man slightly taller than him, clothed in a tattered and fading teal shirt with black suit pants—approach the machine and put on the stove his bowl of ramen. (Or was it a damp folder filled with pages, opened and placed on top of the stove to hasten its drying process? Takuto couldn't tell from where he sat.) Barely, Takuto could notice the cup of coffee in the other man's hand, and the faint edges of his phone in his pocket. Perhaps to scroll through whatever he could as he occupied the table across from him with his hot beverage. The front of his hair swooped to the side and bounced with every step he took, bringing him closer to his chosen table, mere inches at a time. Takuto imagined him. His fingers and pencil gliding over the blank page; The man smiling at him, showing his eyes. The thought made him smile in return, and his heart raced. 'Maybe he could come to me.' A conversation would spark about how their days were, what they were doing, about their lives, maybe more. Maybe the other man could sit at his table to prolong their conversation. Or maybe he would sit at the other table in front of him, to leave him concentrated with a freeforming sketch. If that were to be the case, he would find himself sometimes glancing up at the man, admiring how he delicately took his prepared bowl of ramen to his table. How his fingers curled around his phone, or how most of his hand hid in his sleeves to keep his cold palms warm. Or how he left the bowl to steam on its own, his fingers dancing on the digital keyboard and his brows furrowed in concentration. He would find himself glancing even as one of his hands reached for his cup and lifted it to his lips, warming his hand. Stolen looks, Takuto realized what he was doing; Both of them looked away, hoping that they didn’t peered into each other’s thoughts, or read their expressions. Maybe they would share similar half-smiles, forming when they made eye contact once more, to avoid the awkwardness. Instead, the train of his imagination led him to a bittersweet end. It was cruel for reality to creep on him as it did, yet he found himself taking solace in the silence of the shop once more. He glanced down at his sketch, realizing his hand had created a vague black and white image of what he had imagined. And for a brief second, Takuto considered ripping the page out. It was nothing more than a visualization of a dream out of reach, a wish that looked as if it didn't matter, that shattered his heart and dug him deeper in his own sadness. Takuto knew the other man in front of him had no fault in coming at the night he decided to sort his thoughts somewhere other than his room; It was merely his, for he needed to unlearn the path of probable one-way love. Barely a month or two—At least that’s what he had counted—had passed since he was freed from his distorted desires. And he could never have guessed he would fall for this gentle, kind soul. Yet, he knew he couldn’t let himself fall into that cycle again. He grew terrified of that process, of falling in love, taking away everything of himself until he had nothing else once more. He still believed he was still at fault for two deaths, and he continued to pry himself away from making it three. His past lover’s family’s blood on his hands… an image that proved no intention of wavering in his head. Takuto took a deep breath. He stopped himself from snapping his pencil in half from frustration, or from tearing apart his finished paintings from his notebook. It was in the past, and he couldn’t have stopped it. He had little to no faults involving what happened, but he couldn’t get rid of the guilt he had overnight. He reached for his coffee, shrugging off its chill liquid and took in the little caffeine it brought. Its subtle flavor danced on his tongue, the sweetness doing its best to get rid of the lingering bitterness. It was exhausting, the energy it took to unknow the truth that drained him for months on end. That everything he did for almost a year was all done at the cost of his happiness and love, those of which he believed he wasn't worthy of. The wound in his heart was still fresh, taking its time to become a scar he could finally touch. Acceptance of the outcome of his past relationship was no easy feat, and recovery would only require more than that. He was devastated, there was no refuting that fact, but many times he had wondered if he could have done something different. If he hadn't wasted his time trying to find the strength to get up in the morning, to do his needed tasks, to let himself rest instead of pushing through the night for a mere paper—Takuto's speculation of different results didn't bother to surface. Maybe for another brief second, he had begged to whatever god he knew existed above to grant him some spare time. Even a sliver of pardon or kindness for him to live out the path ahead at a pace he could, despite his mind and body roaring at him to do otherwise. For long he chanted the last words he heard, before he woke up on top of the unkempt bundle of blankets and clothing in his room—"It’s never too late for a new beginning in your life." Although the memories of how he got there remained ever still fuzzy, he couldn't shake how those words remained clear amongst his hazy recollections. Yet, staying in the ramen shop made his chest lighter. For the first time in longer than he could remember, he felt as if he was granted peace. Takuto sighed to himself. He tucked the pencil between the pages of his notebook and pushed it aside. A rush of air swept his lower body as he got up. The former counselor carried himself with a sheepish stride, shyly walking towards the ramen machine and inputting his spare change. He scanned the minimal options on it, hazel eyes landing on a simple, sweet and rich udon. A gentle smile tugged the corners of his lips upward, and he selected his choice. He remained fixated at the red numbers on the timer, watching it widdle away in brief seconds. Everything around it became foggy, lifeless almost, the machine’s buttons and the boxes blurring into messy lines and scribbles on the shop’s brown walls. Behind him, he could hear the muffled slurps of the other man eating his ramen, whilst the faint sound of boiling water in front of him rang in his ears. ‘When did he get his ramen?’ Takuto squinted at the machine, as if directing his question at it. ‘All I remember was that he came in, then I stared, and…’ He nodded to himself, his lips twitching in quiet realization. ‘I… zoned out. I was dissociating, again, and I didn’t know. I should… probably find a way to stop before it becomes a habit. Maybe before it messes with my own perception too much too.’ Takuto shook his head, and blinked. A few seconds passed and he carefully grasped the rim of the finished ramen bowl from the pick up box. With small movements, he brought it to his table, careful to keep it away from his notebook. The quiet rustling of his paper bowl on the wooden table overtaking the silence ever so briefly. He grabbed the provided chopsticks from the side, the friction of paper and wood replacing it. He tugged the two apart with a swift snap—Takuto pondered at how melodic those sounds were even if the silence settled once more. The wooden tips of his chopsticks soaked up the broth with ease, wrapping the noodles delicately and bringing it to his lips. Takuto almost forgot that the meal was freshly made, which would have burned his tongue and throat if he consumed it in an instant. He huffed a few blows, hoping to cool it down before his stomach could twist and growl at him. He took a small mouthful, relishing in the warm noodles on his tongue before they left a sweet aftertaste. He slowly swirled his chopsticks around inside of the bowl. Carefully he picked up a good amount of noodles and a few toppings with the utensils. He pulled closer his bowl as he brought the noodles to his lips, avoiding the dripping soup from hitting the table. He lowered his head to eat, humming softly in appreciation at the warmth and savory taste that filled his mouth. His eyes trailed upwards towards the large glass pane at the front, its top rim glowing a faint neon teal. They lowered, turning towards his reflection. His head was resting against his right palm, whilst his left twirled the chopsticks into forming another swirl of noodles. Only then he could see how unkempt his hair had been, how his clothing was almost unlike him to wear; how he had lost any sort of care to his appearance. Then, his eyes trailed upwards again, almost meeting the other man's reflection, more so his gaze from the pane. Takuto darted his eyes from it, and turned towards his bowl. A quiet sigh released from his tight chest, 'It’s rude to stare, Takuto… Looks like I have a long way to go before I can find the confidence to interact with other people again.' The thought merely preceded a deep breath. He shoved another mouthful, but the noodles became painful strands that gave off a bittersweet taste. He hummed in surprise, and realized what he had done. He didn’t observe the other man any longer, as the taste in his tongue sent a sharp tinge to his senses. He pulled away, patting his tongue with his teeth and promptly flinching at the faint sting. It caused his eyes to turn blurry, narrowing until he blinked away the forming tears in his eyes. He unknowingly began breathing through his mouth, despite each breath touching his burnt tongue in brief increments. With trembling and shaking hands, he reached for his handkerchief in his pocket and dabbed it on his cheeks. Many thoughts flooded his mind, thinking of possible solutions to quickly ease and soothe his tongue. However, the more he thought about it, the more the noodles left a bitter aftertaste in his mouth. He could barely finish what had remained, and decided to dump it into the trash. With a tissue, Takuto wiped down the table and tossed it into the trash. His fingers grasped the edge of his notebook and slid it back to his front, carefully flipping through the stacks of pages until he landed on his earlier sketch. He stifled a yawn, tracing the edge of the page before turning it over to a new blank one. Lightly, the tip of his pencil tapped on the table. With little deliberation and no idea to start from, he began moving his hand and started a new sketch. ‘The rain’s clearing up, but I can probably make one more sketch, then I have to head home before the rain picks up again.’ Takuto thought. A few minutes passed, and Takuto found himself looking up inconspicuously from his sketch. His gaze always landed on the other man’s reflection in the window pane. He was determined not to meet the other man's eyes. And instantly his mind raced with little hesitation, memorizing every detail he possibly could. The other man's lothe yet strong frame, his attire classy yet effortlessly casual, his hair a soft-looking, obsidian black hue that reached barely about his shoulders and tucked behind his ear. And he felt someone's gaze on him, glancing to see Takuto. A brief moment of their eye contact told Takuto that his eyes were equal in hue, a calm obsidian, glinting as they caught the warm lights that surrounded them. All at once Takuto felt a crimson blush working up his face, making him instinctively bury it into his sketches. He didn't look up until he was finished with another page. His hands slammed the notebook shut, shoved the pencil back into the side, and tucked it into his bag. The shuffling of his frantic movements caused the man in front of him to turn. Their gazes met, and Takuto froze in place. He looked as if he had a fever, with his cheeks flushed a bright crimson, or so he hoped that was what the man thought of. “Do you need a ride home?” The man asked, head tilted slightly to the side. Takuto smiled, waving a free hand. However, it did little to ease his sudden spike of adrenaline. His sudden need to leave the ramen shop. "Don't—Don't worry about me, I can handle heading home on my own." With swift movements he got up and raced out of the small shop without picking his head up. ‘Alone,’ Takuto chanted in his head, ‘I need to be alone.‘ Yet, his body suddenly took on a constant ache, leaving no trail nor trace behind him. It was as if he made a choice to detach himself, refusing to let himself have company. His footsteps left faint splashes, unbeknownst that he missed the wistful gaze the other man had cast towards his back. Did a little character study on my favorite character of Persona 5, and I'm proud and adoring how it came out! I'm craving ramen now... Anyways! Likes, comments and feedback are much appreciated! I'd love to hear what you think of this story <33 Edit: Thanks to @Nyx for giving solid critique and also making suggestions! The work's slightly edited to fix some stuff. <3 You can also read this story on AO3, or on Tumblr.
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wild_selenite_caffeine
Jul 13, 2022
In Poems
walls that bind with glass to see all that i can never reach the vivid hopes and dreams i breathe to keep me standing on my feet walls will bind with darkened glass so i can try, forget my past the ocean and the swaying trees the family i held close to me walls that quickly seal my death suffocating each new breath im over this insanity— the waltz of my mortality i would like to walk through walls i would like to set us free
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wild_selenite_caffeine
Jul 06, 2022
In Poems
so many people have said it was better for them in a million different ways but their response never changed never wavered or faltered she missed him in pain and yet, she didn't want to speak not a word, nor a greeting, as her last farewell hung over her he laid in madness, contemplating if what he did was the best, or the worst, yet he went along with his life without another thought for her if only they knew it all; the conversation they already had in each of their own heads maybe the love would be different instead of the thoughts that stayed dormant in their minds thinking they were no closer than mere strangers
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wild_selenite_caffeine
Jun 25, 2022
In Poems
i braided lilies on my arms thinking blissfully, foolishly that it could replace my veins with beauty and purity and one day bloom i was still in love, and i believe i was not to blame i didn’t want to think or remember your name for it rots and decays where my heart once stayed severed from the source, scarified, and left to scorch my eyes withered with these tainted petals under foreign burning lights This poem is also posted on my Tumblr, for the Sapphic June poetry challenge. Also, tried the indented version of how I post my poems, let me know if you prefer this one or the plain text version!
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wild_selenite_caffeine
Jun 24, 2022
In Short Stories
Pairing: Takuto Maruki x Rumi (TakuRumi | Persona 5 Royal) Words: 1786 Warnings: Death Summary: Takuto visits Rumi's grave on the final day of his Palace's existence. He tells her all his what ifs, before he lets his heart be broken. The daylight arrived as such intricately woven threads of gold. Takuto’s eyes shot open, polished amber in the first rays of dawn and burned with an everlasting flame. Something familiar filled the sky, bouncing from each scattered sheet of paper on the white tiled floor. Something he hadn’t seen in a long time, playing tricks through the glass panes above his eyes. Sunlight. It sauntered in, igniting every gap to vivid warm hues and flowing through the leaves adorning his window. Slowly, his body registered the thin sheets underneath him, as well as the patches of cold through his suit. He could almost seep into the colorless floor, blending in with his surroundings. However, a heavy breath escaped his chest; there was no use in pinching himself. The mourning replaced his thoughts, nothing it dragged along separating it from any other. But the day that brought it to his doorstep invoked a sense of familiarity, hidden beneath the ignorance he wished he could cling to further. Takuto raised himself from the floor. The sun had spread a blanket of mist the dusk had left behind. The crickets had ceased their chirping and made way for the birds to begin their calls. Golden light cloaked the room, but faded as Takuto composed himself. A hum left trembling lips; it was a wondrous sight for anyone lucky to witness. For a moment, he considered the thought that another person had awoken as early as he did. However, whilst he turned away from many windows where the light seeped in, he forced the thought away. Even if there was one, they were just as lost as the dreary townsfolk lost in their own happiness. The heels of his shoes made soft thuds on the tiles, beats of gentle applause of each step. The people entering and exiting the hub of his laboratory were aimlessly wandering, all waiting for their turn on each floor to be evaluated. But the functions of his hub became distant, a mere fading voice in the back of his head. The streets were much different. The heels of his shoes became loud pounds on the cement. It accompanied commands, ordering him to return to his dome that rested at the peak of the laboratory. He shook his head once more, his hair falling from its slicked-back form and covering the corners of his glasses. His arms curled around his figure, biting down on his lip to stop himself from calling out the voice in his head. The people who passed by him paid no mind; going about their days as if he were a nameless stranger with a happiness far beyond his reach. They all took solace in a perfect yet illusory world, yet he continued to soldier on alone, facing the true world, fraught with pain and sorrow. His own sleepiness had worn off, and he had come to his senses by the time the sun fully appeared from behind the towering buildings. Its light reached a gravestone that had sunk into the soft soil, giving it the appearance of shrinking. The engraved words, faintly weathered by months of rain, sat above the level of the ground cover plants that sprawled over the dirt. Takuto planted himself in soaked soil, unfazed by the stains on his white suit. ‘There was no celebration to attend’, he reminded himself. There was merely a fiancé, and the place of where a woman’s life should have never been marked by stone, something so cold and immobile. ‘Perhaps a tree with a chime in the branches could do you more justice, or a simple song sung into the wind.’ Takuto found himself smiling at the thought, his eyelids falling for a moment. However, a frown formed over his smile. ‘Each day I try, but I cannot feel your skin next to me.’ No words left his lips, but if there were, it would have been all bones and broken glass. It would have been like in his dreams, sliced with scissors upon waking up. Takuto weaved his hands through his hair like a noose, sighing as he opened his eyes to meet the gravestone — ‘Dreaming is a pastime, not a place.’ It all happened as his watch silently ticked. With every day, every hour, and every minute, the clock inched closer to the death of the day. Lost in his morning routine, its ticking held no more significance than a sunrise. Takuto’s body had only stopped trembling whilst he raised himself from the soil. Now, only his hands quivered. He hoped the world would let him at least feel his hands and feet while it stole the breath from him. Takuto perched his tongue on his cracking lips, feeling a sense of sorrow. He was slipping away from the arms of the world, and he was no longer feeling his fingers there. The people marched on, going about their daily lives engrossed in happiness underneath the golden light. Takuto watched them smile, exclaiming in joy at the day’s newest blessings, embracing themselves as they bustled about. Slowly, the streets were far less compact as most of the people had gone home to rest. All was now quiet. It would not be long until the commotion would begin again. It would not be long until the sun had set and all would be calm once more. It would not be long until another day was lost and he would remain on the pedestal his mind created. An overcast had covered the sun, turning the day dim and somber. Yet, amidst the fading commotion, no sound reached his ears. Although he could touch the glass he was encased in, silently watching as the world flowed on by, he couldn’t feel the people through it. There he stood in front of the door, the divide between him and the world beyond. Takuto had returned to the hub, trapping himself within his messy room at the peak of the laboratory, his neck crooked and his body stiff. His palm glued to the doorknob, deeming it impossible to part with it. He remained in a daze, frozen and unflinching. It was the stillness that he had come to know throughout his patience, waiting for someone to barge through those doors and free him. He stayed that way for a long time, staring down at his feet that met the gap beneath the door. How long became another distant thought, accompanying the many others he was forced to bury for his extreme ideals. Seconds, minutes, hours, days, weeks, months, years held no meaning to Takuto. They were all the lines etched into the gold accents of the door. Each one, no matter how many, all lead to the same destination. Takuto mustered the strength to straighten his back and detach himself from the door, his nails leaving yet another line. He approached one of the many windows that formed a dome over his head and peered down upon the empty streets of the city. He reached to touch the glass, faintly, his heart still beating. Above them, all were the stars, and even so, his gaze still drifted to the cemetery. Those same stars, he could see in the corner of his eyes, would shrink alongside him in the winder. Looking to the horizon, Takuto found a comforting sigh. His hand left the glass, and he turned away; soft gold light danced in the shine of his eyes like how the stars danced in the sky. Takuto lay amidst the scattered research paper, he allowed himself to sink in the coldness that embraced him. Today, he alone would watch the sun set in the distance; Maybe, he had never really noticed how beautiful it was. He let his eyes flutter shut, his heartbeats growing louder, more frantic. It had terrified him for the first time he had heard the echoing thuds, the sound ringing through the walls of his mind. The beat skipped at some points, the only anomaly that occurred in each pattern his body produced before stopping to become an endless sound that lasted until he closed his eyes. But the beats hadn’t reached that point, not yet. The beats drowned out the silence that followed after Takuto’s head ceased another train of thought. Takuto pursed his lips, his expression dropping as he buried his face in his arms. The faint glance at his watch merely reminded him that time was malleable; a substance that could be twisted by anyone who desired to. Where he laid now, with the hatred of the gods bearing down on him from above and the fading hope and rebellion of the people he believed he had saved shaking him from below. He bent time to suit his whims, to challenge a fate he could never accept, and he landed in this sickening pattern. A loop where even a thief could never steal its core. Takuto had once wondered what would have happened if he had never messed with time in the first place. If he rejected the offer of a god as blind in ignorance as he was. If he had never taken all the dreams of the people around him and doomed reality to years of blissful suffering. If he had died alongside his fiancée before he could save anyone he thought who needed it. He also had wondered what happened to those thoughts. If they all became buried alongside his own hope. If they became as distant as his many ramblings in the papers strewn around him, to the point they were erased from his mind. For all he messed with time, Takuto had never gained an inkling of how it functioned. “Maybe,” he eventually whispered, the faint wisp of his voice absorbed and disappeared before it could bounce from the windows. Maybe the next day he wouldn’t visit her grave and receive the comfort he desperately needed. Maybe he wouldn’t bury himself in his research and enjoy the fireworks festival happening the day after. Maybe he would forget his duty sworn to him, and get to see the world expand. Maybe in another time he could forget the pain he laced, forget the feel of his body twisting and breaking in grief. Maybe he could forget how the unfamiliar, scary feel of his calloused hands, or his golden mask, grew more familiar than his own skin. Takuto laced his fingers together, squeezing his hands as he let his eyes slide closed tightly. A heavy breath in, a heavy breath out. The watch on his wrist grew heavier and heavier, yet he resisted the urge to toss it away. He could wait, he had the time. And then suddenly, his surroundings grow silent. You can also read this story on AO3.
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wild_selenite_caffeine
Jun 24, 2022
In Short Stories
Pairing: Takuto Maruki x Zenkichi Hasegawa (HaseMaru | Persona 5) Words: 344 Summary: Takuto found himself saying his confession to Zenkichi. “I don’t want to rush this, I’ve been waiting a long time for this moment, so let me be able to take my time being with you.” Zenkichi blinked, staring at Takuto in a daze. How long have you been hiding your pain? was what he wanted to ask, but the words crumbled and dried before he parted his lips to speak. He had been hiding his own grief for years, to the point he had been blinded once or twice by the rage of losing the woman he vowed to spend his lifetime with through the light and dark. At another point, divinity tempted him; that it could bring back the world he desperately desired in exchange for his freedom. The Inspector's lonely heart tried to seek company, it hoped the world held some love for normalcy. And before him, there it was in the form of a man he so happened to come across by fate. He was never one to crave attention until he tasted Takuto's. And yet it felt all so baffling; the most beautiful part of it all was that Takuto wasn't even looking when he encountered Zenkichi. The dark grey eyes that continued to stare held everything his own heart thirsted for—Zenkichi was enough. A thousand times enough. “…Why didn’t I accept a god’s offer back then?” Takuto had voiced out the lingering question in both of their minds. “Because there was someone who made me realize that despite having everything, nothing could bring back a lover from the dead.” He let out a heavy breath, stopping himself from releasing sobs building up in his chest. “Then… let’s spend the rest of our lifetimes together.” Zenkichi made a small smile, reaching down and holding Takuto’s hands. He raised his head and beamed down at Takuto, who stared up with glossed eyes. They caught a glimpse at the other's heart and saw there were both filled with holes. “If some god wants to tear us apart, we shouldn’t let them without fighting for every ounce of our freedom.” You can also read this story on AO3.
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wild_selenite_caffeine
Jun 23, 2022
In Short Stories
Pairing: Takuto Maruki x/& Zenkichi Hasegawa (HaseMaru | Persona 5) Words: 900 Summary: Takuto longs to find where his heart beats and hold it so tight it seems to stop. Meanwhile, Zenkichi always thought the younger man that abruptly came into his life was nothing short of odd. Zenkichi always thought the younger man that abruptly came into his life was nothing short of odd. His newfound partner and criminal profiler was sympathetic, with a bit of patience; alert and quick to pick up even the most minute of details from mere images. Unlike his other coworkers that stirred up frustration and annoyance far too often. There was also an anxious feel about him when he first came at Zenkichi’s doorstep to work on his first few cases, the fragility he had not yet learned to fully conceal. A man quite impulsive, imperfect really, even in Zenkichi’s eyes hardened by the heavy years in the force. From the second he stepped into the Hasegawa home, Zenkichi almost dropped everything to helped him be as comfortable as possible. He helped him unpack, oriented him about the work they were going to do, and acquainted him with the few rooms and hallways in the small home for three. It was as if a new warmth had entered the home after the months after the summer, one that Zenkichi could vaguely recall as the same as when his late wife was still present. Akane, his daughter, even agreed with him, as he found her smiling happily in her sleep before he and his partner started to work on the case files. The former counselor was starting to fit nicely, even if he was a bit nervous in being accepted rather quickly. Well, he seemed to be fitting in as seamlessly as Zenkichi thought. Weeks, almost a month had passed by before Zenkichi grew concerned of the increase of visits unrelated to work. And to add to his own increase of curious, confused questions as to why, the young man never bothered to speak a word of it. Avoidant, he noticed, how the former counselor dodged his questions and averted his worried eyes. Just as he once did when he couldn’t face Akane, when the household was nothing more than a cold tomb, a reminder of what had been lost to cruel fate. Zenkichi had stepped away from the dinner table for a moment, paying the deliveryman at the door for the food he ordered. A soft, strangled noise came as he returned. His feet froze, unable to move from the small wall that separated him and the young man. Zenkichi’s gaze drifted to the side, eyeing down at the small paper bag with three bowls of ramen and a small pack of apple juice boxes. Strands of his hair fell in front of his eyes, casting his eyes in a dark grey hue. He had almost forgotten to breath, stopping as the noise brought forth more memories of a harsh winter. The rumble in his head forced him to move, taking small steps into the warm light that glowed and engulfed the dinner table in golden light. “H-Hey,” Zenkichi cleared his throat, quietly breaking through the noise. The slightly huddled shape wrapped in a white sweater stopped shaking, the noise ceasing in its wake. “Z-Zen…! Sorry about that…” The thin clear stains ran down his cheeks, dripping on to his neck. Slowly, his arms once wrapped around himself faltered, falling to his sides. Zenkichi planted himself in the soaked soil in Takuto’s eyes, in the depths of a grief he was all too familiar with. The broken man’s words were all bones and broken glass. Zenkichi stepped closer, moving the files to set the bag on the table. A simple wrong move; the floor creaked below him, causing Takuto to jump. An angel surrounded by pins and needles, soft brown eyes swallowing clouds. “Sorry…! My bad,” Zenkichi stepped away, keeping the small distance between him and the other man. He frowned, looking down at Takuto, whilst the dust of the seasons resting on his cheeks. The cloudy skies still reflect the way they both felt inside; the rumbling in Zenkichi’s head reminded. “…You don’t have to be alright.” He sighed, “I have to get through the rest of this, though.” Takuto’s arms wrapped around his figure again, gripping the soft cotton snow fabric on his body. If he were to close his eyes, perhaps, the clouds would part their way and he could forget it all existed. However, something in the back of his head decided otherwise. Takuto shook his head, breathing heavily and turning to meet a gentle warmth. The realization that the other man was hugging him brought new tears in his eyes; barely able to breathe, crying once more. ‘This is what i feared the most. This moment right here. The transition between having something and having nothing but regret. And it’s happening right now, right in front of my eyes.’ Takuto wanted to pour out. The light above them danced in the shine of his eyes like how the stars danced in the sky. ‘I saw her in your eyes, a love I thought I could only bring back in my dreams. As I reach back and feel your heart still beating, above us are the same stars I once had with her.’ Still, Takuto’s mourning was hushed, as if he was worried that if he made too much noise the walls might cave over into him. But Zenkichi grasped him tighter, as if Takuto would melt away if he were to let go. The young man’s heart long broken cried, and Zenkichi took it, transformed it into gold. You can also read this story on AO3.
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wild_selenite_caffeine
Jun 23, 2022
In Short Stories
Pairing: Takuto Maruki x Zenkichi Hasegawa (HaseMaru | Persona 5) Summary: Zenkichi Hasegawa's first impressions on Takuto Maruki brought comfort, rather than coming across as a shady detective. Words: 683 The man before him bore a set of rimless glasses with a square narrow frame, behind them being dark grey irises that glimmered a glint of teal. They lingered on Takuto, blinking ever so often to break the silent stare. "Do you need something...?" Takuto's eyebrows furrowed, hair falling in front of his own brown eyes. Although his words were stern and wary, his voice gave away his concern, curiosity. He wondered the many reasons the Inspector had been following the group, however, there was another, more pressing thought. 'Why do your eyes fall back to me, when you have done nothing but sought out the teenager that piqued the law's interest once more?' The question merely brought a sigh to Takuto's mind. “…your companion," Zenkichi—the name almost slipped past his mind—had answered the teenagers' panicked inquiries. Takuto's gaze cleared and his ears returned to the conversation, departing from his mind. Again, Zenkichi looked back at Takuto, and this time, the full intensity of his gaze was on him. “Sorry, didn’t catch your name.” Takuto's hands hovered for a long moment, freezing in place over his chest. A deafening silence blanketed his mind. No trains of thoughts rumbling through his nerves, nor any questions that tugged his curiosity in all possible directions. Though gently, a memory flourished, blooming with pristine white petals that gave ease to his body. His voice flowed, words strung in a gentle, awkward greeting. "Takuto Maruki is my name." "Developing man of never-ending joy," Zenkichi murmured, "If I'm not spewing out random words to rid of this awkwardness, of course." Once more, the silence returned. The words flowed as if it were a gentle stream, despite the appearance of the Inspector. It was quiet enough that he could hear his heart thumping beside his ears. To string words like that gave him a faint sense of nostalgia, threatening to gloss over his eyes and bring him back to— Takuto shook his head, his eyes moving towards the pavement. 'If you have not known about me for as long as the kids, then I can only beg that you may not know how mistaken you are.' He returned to staring up at Zenkichi, a small, wry smile forming. Though, Zenkichi chuckled, returning with a genuine smile. His grey-teal eyes never wavered, his expression maintaining its softness. Takuto blinked, checking if it was there ever since their eyes met moments ago. There was admiration, almost revealing an enamor that rivaled an awestruck lover's. Zenkichi shifted out of that gaze, as swift as it was present. He straightened up, rolling his shoulders slightly whilst the kids had returned to their own conversations over their shared meals. "You may find it hard to believe, but I have a sort of eye for stuff like that. I admit I’m not sure how I know that, but I can feel it...." A few more words followed, almost being captured by the wind in hopes that Takuto wouldn't hear them. "And besides, I'm sure it wasn't just me when I felt there was something holding us back." Takuto swallowed, his throat becoming dry. No words could be strung together to create even a faint melody of his feelings. They were both observant, almost to an extent that it was unhealthy, projecting their thoughts on people who'd rather be free of such ideas. However, before he could even reply to any of Zenkichi's statements, the Inspector had excused himself from the group. He could only presume it was for business matters once more. But in his place was the sound of falling snow, the only noise he was haunted with. It swept away the noise of city streets, the rowdiness of the group of kids discussing their road trip plans. Yet, what had caused him great fear then, had become a soft embrace that wrapped around Takuto. He hummed, letting his smile become loving. It was in such a way that made him hopeful, to accompany the group in hopes of meeting the man again. 'Maybe my name still holds some truth to it, right?' You can also read this story on AO3.
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wild_selenite_caffeine
Jun 23, 2022
In Poems
i'll always remember that there are people and things that are better to lose and let go so i can soar high with the colors that fly but in this solitude along with power so terrifying in the unknown there was love evermore yearning to see you smile even if the reason is no longer me This poem is also posted on my Tumblr, for the Sapphic June poetry challenge.
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wild_selenite_caffeine
Jun 22, 2022
In Poems
there were nights when sleep plays coy, aloof and disdainful it toys with a wounded pride and it all becomes much more painful in this small nest, crafted with leftovers and luxuries i remain awake burdened with thoughts revolving around you This poem is also posted on my Tumblr, for the Sapphic June poetry challenge.
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wild_selenite_caffeine
Jun 22, 2022
In Poems
i had so much love to give and i had a place to call home i poured it all, and i realized the more i cared, the more i had to lose then the house was empty, and i can hear our voices bouncing off the walls; i gave so much of myself and now i lay sprawled, left behind, tossed aside, forgotten with only so little left in my heart This poem is also posted on my Tumblr, for the Sapphic June poetry challenge.
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wild_selenite_caffeine
Jun 21, 2022
In Poems
laying with the thin sheets in the night i feel the most vulnerable and i feel everything under the moon but i fear it may be too close as i turn over, rest my head on my arm, i only hope featherless wings can carry us my heart beats, but its out of sync with yours memories flood in, cursing me with your name your melodies, now bitter lullabies lull me to cold slumber
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wild_selenite_caffeine
Jun 21, 2022
In Poems
an ocean of thoughts pierced through the eyes losing self in a steady gaze sorrow seeped through every opening dark clouds filled the heart how poetic that emotion should lodge in a place so vulnerable as the throat; how easy to tear out a tender heart with teeth maybe the pain doesn't go away because the lessons have yet to be learned
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