Cicatrize | Halcyon | Catharsis
Pairing: Touken
Disclaimer: post-163 HC I cooked up after Ken returned from exploring the ruins of Tokyo.
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Anything, everything unnerved him.
He felt like he was in a dream, too good to be true but also too cruel to be lived.
Ken was overwhelmed by the fact that he woke up surrounded by the people he loved, albeit incomplete. He was surprised by the news that the CCG and GOAT formed a temporary alliance, was shocked to find out they were in the same camp. His heart felt full at the notion that his wife was there with him, his lungs constricted at the thought that his best friend was alive.
It felt like it was too much.
But what surprised him more was what remained of the city he once lived in – the ruins of the once peaceful and bustling streets where he would take a walk, where he took his first mission, where he spent his life – everything was gone, replaced by debris, empty broken down buildings and blood.
And the presence of monsters created by his folly.
His heart fell at the notion that he helped create this, his stomach full of heavy, molten lead of guilt. As he stumbled upon a small room the base had given after he said goodbye to Urie and Saiko, his eyes were downcast as quiet, as unrelenting thoughts plagued his being.
He destroyed his home.
He took small, careful but hesitant steps inside the room, his hand tracing the painted walls that withstood the onslaught of this nightmare. He could remember the meetings that were held inside these rooms once upon a time.
“Why are you just standing there?” A voice asked, still groggy and raspy but made his heart skip a beat nonetheless. She sat down and patted the space next to her, inviting him.
Ken looked at her and smiled slightly as he went towards the bed and sat right beside her. Even with all the plague that was in his thoughts, seeing her alive and well was enough to make him breathe at least. He carefully removed the hair that blocked her eyes and gave her a small smile – he had missed her so much, had been so scared that he wouldn’t see her again – seeing her in front of him was enough to make him feel that something was right at least.
“Did you get some rest?” he asked, his voice husky and warm, something that was always present when he spoke to her.
“Y-yeah.” Touka looked away as a faint blush crept on her cheeks, the feeling of relief washing through her at the thought that he was real, that he was in front of her.
Warmth crept on the hand that was beside him, and before she knew it, he had already taken it between his and squeezed it tight – as if reassuring her, himself or both.
“How was your trip?” she asked nervously, trying to form a conversation as her mind reeled from his touch and the feelings that threatened to burst out of her chest. Her eyes scanned his form as guilt and sadness danced in the somber gray orbs.
She knew it must have been too much for him to take all of this in, just like it had been for her.
“I-I,” he started, trying to find the words as his eyes looked at the floor, unable to look at her in the eyes.
He was so scared he had ruined everything for them.
Briefly, he swallowed as Touka patiently waited for him to speak, finally breathing out as he squeezed her hand again. “I didn’t want this,” he blurted.
He didn’t know how he could make amends with what he had done, didn’t even know how to take responsibility for what he had caused. As time passed, he felt that the world had given him an overwhelming burden he couldn’t bear. Touka could feel the way his voice broke at the words. She could feel him tense as he struggled to come to terms with his thoughts.
Guilt was eating him alive.
She sighed, closing her eyes briefly before producing a small smile. “Look at me,” she said tenderly, using her free hand to touch the side of his jaw and make him look to her eyes when he refused.
He was hesitant, but he gave in and finally rested his eyes on the dark blue that only held relief and joy that he was back.
It made his heart melt.
“Whatever happens, I want you to remember that we will find a way together. You’re not alone in this, Ken.”
Ken. She had accepted him – the whole him, a man who had his share of faults and failures. She had accepted him as Ken, the boy who loved books, who was a good cook. She did not see him as the one-eyed king nor as the monster who ravaged Tokyo.
She leaned on his shoulders and closed her eyes – just like what she used to do, her form lighter and at ease. It felt like his burden became more bearable to know she was here with him, that she would be supporting him. “We will always be with you, holding your hand.”
To her, he was simply Ken – her husband, her friend, a person she loves.
“Hold me,” she asked as they lied down, her head resting on the crook of his arm. He took her in his arms and feasted upon her scent, her warmth, her presence.
“Get some rest,” he whispered wistfully, holding her tightly as he rested his cheek on the crown of her head. Briefly, he kissed her forehead tenderly, letting his lips linger just long enough to feel her warmth as she closed her eyes.
He had her at least, just like he had his small family – his loved ones. Maybe someday he would be able to see this town rebuilt and bustling again, would be able to enjoy the small walk to a nearby park or the coffee’s rich aroma inside a shop. He would do anything to atone for his shortcomings, to set things right so that his child would be able to enjoy a peaceful future – so that he could be together with his family.
But for now, this was his home.
:::
Étiquette : fic recommendation
[touken] hc where the second time they do it is even better,
though their coordination, initially, leaves just a little to be desired. kaneki brings the blanket to where touka sleeps, and touka spreads it out on her cot and motions that he sit beside her, and they exchange a shy but heated glance before he swallows and hitches off his shirt.
it drops aside. touka sets her hand on kaneki’s arm, on his bicep that immediately prickles up with goosebumps. she brushes her fingers gently lower, to the knitted, plated flesh that makes up his lower arm, and under her carress the dark red cells quiver and for an instant his fingers shiver and grip into a melty fist.
August 8: Sneak Some Zucchini onto Your Neighbour’s Porch Day
Almost every time, I write something for a specific day, I will, for some reason, finish and upload it late.
This time, it was because, on August 8, I had a LOT of bad luck which swept over to the next few days which is why this chapter is late by three days… >.<
It’s a very silly side story (just look at the name) but, after rembering about the day while looking through my notes, for some reason, I just had to write it down.
Don’t expect much though XD
London, England, United Kingdom – August 1847
“Do you want to sneak some zucchini onto the Lincolns’ porch? We are a Watchdog and a Grim Reaper and make up a weird partnership, but we aren’t that weird to sneak zucchini on a porch. What reason is there to leave a fruit most wrongly call a vegetable on the porch of neighbours you don’t like? I have no idea what is wrong with the people in the future, but we are definitely not as weird as that. We aren’t such oddballs, such nutcases, such crackpots.
“If they find out about that, we will get sent straight to one of those awful asylums, and the hysteric laughter of Danielle and Arlington will sound right behind us until the carriage door closes and even all the way to the asylum and for all eternity. To cut my rambling short: This isn’t something we should do. Especially not I. No matter what, we will never sink so low.”
Cedric looked at her, his eyebrows raised, and Cloudia looked back at him, her own brows contracted.
“I will get as much zucchini as I can carry from the pantry,” Cedric said.
“I will make sure that the coast is clear,” Cloudia said. And with no other word, they went to work.
***
“Jester to Blood Queen – the hatchlings have safely landed in the nest, I repeat: Jester to Blood Queen, the hatchlings have…”
“Undertaker, I am standing right next to you.”
Cloudia and Cedric were standing behind some bushes in the front yard, shielded from the passers-by on the road. She had a spyglass in her hand although there was no need of it because the Lincolns’ porch could be seen very well by the naked eye from where they stood. He had a small sack full of zucchini thrown over his shoulder, looking like the oddest Santa Claus.
Requiem for the King
An interlude between Agni’s death and real!Ciel’s appearance at the manor. Partially inspired by @white-queen-lacus‘s candy = ring theory and @dorkshadows‘s magnificent post about real!Ciel being a malicious, Machiavellian brat of epic proportions 🙂
– mod Nina
Phantomhive Manor is silent as he walks down the east wing, an expression of mild curiosity fixed on his youthful features. Usually maids and caretakers bustled about dressed in their dull black garb—chamber maids, parlor maids, house maids, and footmen moved behind artificial shadows; they were Phantomhive servants and they know how to disappear.
He turns a left corner, eyes glossing over the original paintings of Caravaggio, Vermeer, Rubens, and Boucher. There’s even a rare Holbein hanging above his mother’s favorite Ming vase; how the earl obtained it, no one knows but the work of Henry VIII’s most celebrated court painter is a status symbol that cannot be ignored and Vincent Phantomhive was ever so fond of his petty gags. The duke of Westminster had a near tantrum when he learned who the mysterious buyer was—Ciel ought to know, he was there the day his father hosted a dinner party specifically for the unveiling of Holbein’s 1527 Lady with a Squirrel and Starling portrait.
“Truth be told, I despise this painting.” Vincent mused after their guests had gone and it was just they two, father and son, standing in front of Holbein’s work. “Unimaginative, dull—and the lady’s not much of a beauty is she?” He inquired with a devious half-smirk.
“Then why did Mr. Holbein paint her?” Ciel inquired curiously, tugging on his father’s hand. “Surely there were other ladies with a face more pleasing to one’s eye.”
“Of course there were but Mr. Holbein is an artist—and not just any artist but one employed by the great king himself. He painted a true aristocrat, Ciel—a woman whose cost far exceeds her aesthetic value.”
Ciel frowned. “So she’s ugly?”
“Oh yes.” Vincent smiled, perfectly charmed by his son’s perception. “Quite. But artists seem to enjoy it when only they can find beauty in monstrosity. It’s a wretched cliche.”
“Then why not paint a wicked woman with a fair face whose beauty actually attracts men?” He stared at the plain faced maid with the sharp nose and dull eyes. A squirrel in her lap. A bird to her side. “Do you suppose that’s why the starling’s on her shoulder? Because she so resembles a tree stump?” Ciel looked up at his father, sapphire eyes wide with curiosity and cruel mischief.
« slowly exploring each other’s bodies again the next morning, surprised that a couple hours can turn something once forbidden into something so strangely casual and precious. » I JUST MADE AN INHUMAN SQUEAL-LIKE NOISE! omg this sounds even better, I’m dying at the possibility and fully prepared to beg on my knees o-<-<
ok anon…..i went back and finished it up. :’) though i think maybe it doesn’t have too much of the “reverent” feel i was initially thinking i’d do, haha. thank you for your encouragement, i hope you enjoy it!
to everyone: this is another take on touken “morning after” tg:re:125, lol. have a good day ahead!
~1600 words // content warnings // excerpt:
After.
Later.
When he can think a little more.
He wakes up. Not abruptly — but slow — through a morning-colored haze. Even then he isn’t sure really that he’s awake, because Touka is there, with bare shoulder blades, and the soft long dip down the center of her back, and a sliver of nape she is gently rubbing her fingers against as she combs through her hair.
For a moment, just like him, she doesn’t know that he’s awake. She looks out the window, thinking things that he can’t imagine and wants, suddenly, to know. He gazed at her sometimes over the top of his books at the cafe but this is the first time that he’s watched her this intimately, seen her this close, and he can only barely believe it. All at once, from one day to the next, he went from suppressing thoughts of her skin to knowing exactly the way it feels and tastes and trembles.
Bonus: The Siblings, Partners
I AM DOOOOOONE.
First of all: Sorry that it’s late. This was supposed to be a special for Cloudia’s 151st death day after all.
Actually, this bonus was done on July 13, but I didn’t have time to revise it because I had to go somewhere. In the end, even if I had taken my laptop with me, I wouldn’t have been able to finish this on time because the revision took WAY longer than anticipated.
That’s why I am two days late.But, nevertheless, I am done now – and I hope you’ll enjoy this one-shot which got far too long.
“Everyone grieved differently.”
Countryside, England, United Kingdom – August 1866
Please, read this it’s amazing.
V
Kirishima Week Day 8 (July 8th): Hikari & Arata
Summary: The five stages of Hikari’s life. (3.2k words)
A/N: That V is a 5 and not the organization. I just have to put it out there. Look who’s fucking late for Day 8 of @kirishima-week. I still have the submission for Yomo day as well. I’m sorry. What better time to finish of my Kirishima family fic collection than Kirishima Week itself!
This was suggested by an anon some time back, who asked me to write one fic for every member of the family. All the stories are not necessarily linked and can be read independently of each other. They don’t involve every single member of the family as well (eg. the siblings’ stories are about themselves rather than their parents).
Read the others here: Touka | Ayato | Renji | ArataIt’s late and I’m sleepy so forgive my typos and grammar mistakes. Please do reblog if you enjoyed this fic!
Preview:
She stands facing the Reaper as her family leaves behind her. Her ears ring from hearing Ayato calling out for her, clearly unhappy that it’s his father carrying him now and not his mother. She wants to turn back, but she doesn’t. Hikari knows that if she does, she’ll just lose all courage and strength; she’ll break down right there and then.
They’re further now, but she can hear Touka’s questions as well. She pictures the young girl grabbing her father hand, desperately trying to keep up with his pace while wondering aloud why her mother isn’t following them.
Arata must be so scared and worried. He must be hating himself right now for having to leave her behind. But what can they do when there is other things to worry about? Their world doesn’t revolve around them anymore. There’s more. They have to give themselves up, they have to give anything up, if it means that Touka and Ayato can live.
Please… she prays, but to whom she’s somewhat unsure, give them the good life they deserve.
The Reaper raises his scythe and Hikari’s heart races. She wonders if the rush she’s feeling right now is what her parents and older brother felt all those years ago. Protecting their family, they fought with their utmost strength— just like she’s on the verge of doing.
Ah. Ren…
She probably should have gone to visit him more recently. Living a peaceful life had made her too comfortable. She had begun to take a lot of things for granted. The last time she saw her brother was probably months, or even years, ago.
I’m sorry, Ren, but Sis has to do this.
She knows he’ll understand, but she knows the pain will still kill him.
Don’t hate Arata. He did nothing wrong. Don’t hate the Touka and Ayato. They’re kids.
Don’t hate yourself. It’s not your fault you’re not here.
♡kirishima week day 5: past/present/future♡
TG:RE CHAPTER 132 YALL. YOU GUYS. YALL. I’M. SO. FILLED WITH LIFE. i barely slept. i woke up and wrote this all in one go this morning and it so happens that it fits perfectly into kirishima week!! pls forgive the inevitable misspellings and like nonsensical canon time massaging!!! this is just all fluff!!! what a chapter!!!!!!!
i hope you’re having a GREAT! DAY!! ☼
~2100 words // content notes // excerpt:
“Got it,” Kaneki announces. He hands her a small pink cardboard box, and a lumpy plastic bag from a convenience store. The box contains an ice pack, and a dome-shaped cake decorated with eyes and long ears: a rabbit. Touka snorts and smiles.
“This one is too cute to eat.”
“Right?” The ceremony is over and the party has mostly dispersed, but Kaneki’s face is still flushed with delight. He sits beside her. “I brought other kinds too. So you can try them all. Maybe one will be better than the others. Oh, I also got you some water.”
“Thanks,” Touka tells him. Just looking at the cakes makes her stomach throb, though she isn’t sure if it’s in a good way, or a bad one. For now, she sets them all aside.
“Oh,” Kaneki says. “No good? I can — I can get more.”
“No, they’re good,” Touka says. “I just want to enjoy things a little longer.”
Under the tree.
They are lying side by side on the grass.
Sebastian excused himself a while ago and left them alone with a picnic basket full of sweets.
Lizzy has her eyes closed and Ciel is trying not to think about his latest job or how much he has to do. He tries his hardest to concentrate on how nice it is to be with his fiancé under the shadow of a tree on a summer day.
He fails of course.
Because he is Ciel Phantomhive and he doesn’t have time for dates.
But Sebastian, the damn bastard, insisted that it would be healthy for both of them to enjoy the summer breeze.
Ciel was sure that he just wanted to avoid seeing the mansion transformed into some dollhouse, so he didn’t complain. He was expecting full torture because Lizzy was probably going to talk about dresses and parties but for some strange reason she was quiet.
“Is everything okay?” He asks finally without looking at her. He cannot stand silence for too long, at least not when he’s with her because this is Elizabeth Midford and she always has something to say.
“Yeah” she says with her sweet voice and it takes Ciel a while to remember how this girl slayed some zombies a few months ago on a ship “this is nice.”
He sighs.
He usually doesn’t agree with her but this is a special occasion so he smirks a little before answering.
“Yes, it is.” He says.
It takes five seconds for her to break the silence again.
“We should kiss.” Elizabeth says suddenly and the moment is lost.
Ciel sits down abruptly and looks at her.
“What?!” He asks.
She groans and sits down to look properly at him.
“Does the idea bothers you that much?” She asks and he can see a little blush on her cheeks but he also notices how she is a little upset.
He doesn’t like to upset her.
“No, of course not.”
“Then why do you react like that?” She asks.
Ciel doesn’t know how to answer, after all he’s just thirteen, and while his worries are not exactly normal for someone of his age he still doesn’t hit puberty.
“Forget it” she says while lying down on the grass again “I understand that you don’t know how to do it…”
“Who says that I don’t know how to do it?” He asks defensively while looking at her.
“You know how to kiss?” She asks with sincere curiosity and he blushes.
“Do you?” He asks and this time she blushes.
“Of course not!” She answers “that’s why we should try to learn! It’s like one of your games, isn’t it? It takes just a little practice.”
Ciel gulps.
“We’re thirteen.” He says.
“We’re engaged.”
Point taken.
“Fine” he says “sit down.”
She obeys and now they’re sitting face to face. They are both nervous and their cheeks are red as tomatoes but Lizzy likes the feeling of anticipation on her stomach and Ciel feels the need to prove that this is nothing out of the ordinary, therefore he can do it.
After all they’re supposed to get married someday so they might at least kiss once in a while, right?
“Close your eyes.” He says and Lizzy closes her eyes.
She feels how he leans closer until their mouths are just inches apart. She counts the seconds and at the count of three Ciel kisses her.
It’s sweet she thinks, and she’s right, the whole thing is because by the time they shyly move their mouths she can taste the chocolate they ate just a while ago and Ciel is being so careful that she thinks everything about it it’s lovely.
Ciel on his side is quite worried because he doesn’t know if he’s doing it right, he can barely remember seeing his parents kissing so he doesn’t have any idea of how it’s done.
But Lizzy doesn’t complain and she tastes like his favorite sweets, and while he feels a little awkward he finds the whole experience a little enjoyable too.
A little bit too soon they pull apart and Lizzy opens her eyes to look at his flustered face.
“So?” He asks a little embarrased with his cheeks on fire.
“I liked it.” She says with a smile and hugs him.
Ciel is breathless and he doesn’t know whether to blame the hug or the previous kiss.
Sebastian saw everything of course but he will wait until Lady Elizabeth is gone and his young Master is ready to bed to torture him about it.
The end.
midnight-in-town 