hey friend! I request some Takizawa x fem reader I love you work so much I love the time skip ghoul seidou where heâs calmer (then when he was in aoigiri) sorry for the awkwardness
Ëŕ¨ŕ§âď˝ĄË â. Before you start reading, I had this fanfic in my drafts never really finished! I triied my best to finish it.
This fanfic may look very very weird and questioning, but that's the purpose of it! So enjoy!!
I'm very busy lately so it took me a while to post something again and answer the request! Im in the middle of my studies for the exams AAAAA IM SCARED NGL.
but thank you all so much for the kind words I really really appreciate it.
Ëŕ¨ŕ§âď˝ĄË â. Takizawa x fem. reader
Ëŕ¨ŕ§âď˝ĄË â. â ď¸ Mention of death, blood, eatimg flesh
Rain again, of course. The sky was filled with heavy grey clouds and hung above Tokyo. Pouring its mood into the streets with relentless drizzle. It looked like it's going to rain all day long.
And naturally, today of all days. He'd forgotten his umbrella at home.
Typical. As usual, he thought to himself.
Just another small cruelty in a long line of them. One he was almost used to by now. Misfortune had a habit of following Seidou like a loyal dog, always a step behind, always nipping at his heels and pouring the bad luck into the right moments of his life. Like it's sitting in front of the door and waiting for him to set a foot outside.
He let out a tired sigh and stood there, motionless, under the overhang in front of the CCG building. His fingers curled in his pockets as he stared out into the curtain of rain, the rhythm of falling droplets pattering against the pavement like a clock ticking down toward something unknown. He could feel the cold air settling into his collar, brushing against the back of his neck.
Maybe heâd just call an uber. Walking home in this kind of weather felt like punishment. A hit in his face. Though, he couldnât really say what for anymore.
His breath curled out in a white puff, and he mumbled under it, âThe universe really has it out for meâŚâ
His head snapped up. He heard footsteps behind him.
He turned, blinking against the rain that misted toward him, and there she was, running toward him, a white umbrella in her hand, her shoes splashing through shallow puddles like she didnât even notice. Her coat flapped open behind her, and her cheeks were pink from the cold, her expression somewhere between annoyed and breathless.
âAre you trying to leave without me, idiot? We said we would wait for each other!â she huffed when she reached him, holding the umbrella out so it covered them both.
He didnât answer right away. Just stared at her, a little stunned from himself. He really just forgot someone as important as her. His mind wasn't really there. Maybe he isn't really used to company but at the same time he just tried to look for excuses in his mind to not feel so bad. Because why would he forget⌠her? He should be ashamed of himself.
But in that brief pause, the rain didnât seem so cruel anymore. But in that brief pause, the rain didnât seem so cruel anymore. It softened its rhythm against the umbrella.
The sky loosened its grip on sorrow, each drop less a wound, more of a whisper.
He stood there, not dry, not safe, but strangely unafraid of the word with her on his side. As if the storm had forgotten its anger and the misfortune left him for a split second.
Time lingered in that fragile stillness, where even the thunder held its breath, and the world, washed and waiting, felt almost kind again.
But that was a good joke wasn't it?
Yet something felt wrong, terribly wrong in that moment, as he grabbed her arm, pulling her away because she was staring too intently into Kanekiâs face. Too close for his liking. Something in that moment cracked, glitched at the edges. Her arm felt wrong. Off.
He remembered. He was not in front of the CCG building with her.
No he was talking to Kaneki and her ghostly figure stared at him.
That got him jealous. What an ugly feeling.
He knew all too well how her ghostly skin felt in his hallucinations. Cold, familiar, weightless. He knew his wife far too well.
His wife who played tricks on his broken mind, yet keeping his only cell of sanity. His only human part. The air seemed to shiver around her. She looked untouchable. No, she looked like she's going to disappear at any moment. She was slipping through his fingers.
How strange. He thought to himself.
A ghost of his mind. A memory wrapped in flesh and her soul bound to him. Living the hell with him together, like she promised too.
Lost in thoughts in that situation, he hadn't noticed that the world around him paused, A voice echoed through him. Trying to reach out for him.
His eyebrows furrowed. The voice was in the distance and it felt like he was underwater and someone was screaming from above, from the surface.
He felt like he was choking as the air flooded into his lungs, like a drowning man breaking the surface, desperately trying to swim back up.
And again something felt like glitching, something cracked. And he was somewhere else again. Hearing a faint voice in the back as he cracked his eyes open.
âSeidou! Dear are you alright?â His wife looked worriedly at him. He gazed up from where he was laying, eyes big and wide.
He sat up immediately, trying to understand what's happening.
âYou scared me, Seidou. You were moving and crying in your sleep. Did you had a nightmare?â She asked with her oh so sweet voice. So sweet if hurt his teeths.
He didn't understand, she should be dead?
He brought his hand against her cheek, caressing it. She was so warm and felt alive. Warmer then in his âdreamâ what he thought was reality.
He let out a shaky breath, lips parted as he wanted to say something, ask something but he didn't know what.
She then brought her own hands to his face, cupping it. And wiping away something, his tears he didn't notice. He was crying.
âOh sweetheartâŚâ she spoke softly, leaning to him and placing her lips against his forehead.
This felt oddly familiar, he shook the ideas out of his head and pulled her into an embrace and cried into her chest. Desperately, finally being awake from such a horrible and humiliating dream.
âShhh shh..â his wife coed him softly and rubbing his back gently up and down.
âI'm here for you.. I always will be here for you.â
But again, something betrayed him. It felt like a sharp sting into his lungs. It glitched and cracked one more time. He doesn't know what is reality? And what are his hallucinating. Everything started to mix up together, so deep he can't even seperate his thoughts anymore.
Yet again his beautiful wife hovered over him, her expression pinched in worry. "Are you even listing to me..?" She asked softly.
He can't even tell where he is anymore with her. Everything felt dark around him.
She looked so real. Once again. God he missed her so much. And her sweet honey dripping voice.
He couldnât understand.
His hand rose slowly, again, trembling as he cupped her cheek, again. She was warm. Solid. More alive than she had been in what he thought was reality. But what exactly was reality anyway?
Her expression seemed even more worried then before. "Takizawa... Love please say something, talk to me what's wrong?"
He exhaled shakily, lips parted. Words trembled on his tongue, but nothing came out. What could he say? What was there to say anyway? He didn't even understand anything himself. How should he answer his own wife.
She also brought her hands to his face, again, gently cupping it, her thumbs brushing the tears he hadnât noticed, again. Tears falling freely now, again.
He collapsed into her arms, burying his face in her chest, sobbing like a child. Desperate. Shattered. Grateful.
Finally awake, he thought to himself. finally free from the nightmares was all he hoped for.
At least that was the lie he chose now.
âShh, shhhâŚâ she cooed, one hand stroking his back in soft, slow motions. âIâm here for you⌠Iâll always be here for you. I'm gonna listen to your burdens. So please talk to me, I'm here for you Sediou, I always will be.
Even if none of it was real.
Even if this was the last lie he had left to live in.
Takizawa sat alone at the kitchen table, the photo album open before him. His fingers hovered above the pages like he was afraid theyâd crumble. One of the corners was stained with dark water damage, maybe. Or blood. He didnât remember.
His eyes traced over a picture. She was smiling at him from the other side of a bent kitchen table. A bowl of curry in front of her, his chopsticks reaching toward her plate. She had that look, the one she always wore when she stole the last bite and dared him to complain.
And for a moment, it felt like time folded.
Arms slid slowly around his shoulders. Gentle. Familiar. Warm.
Soft breath tickled his ear, and her voice whispered, playful and low:
His hands trembled. He didnât look behind him to know who it was.
âStop messing with me,â he whispered. âItâs always you.â
She laughed quietly. He could feel it against his back.
But the kitchen was cold. And the floor had a crack running through it. And the second chair at the table hadnât been moved in years.
Still, he reached out with shaking fingers and slid a bowl of rice across the table. Just plain rice. It was all he had now. Ghouls didnât crave food like this. But he did. Or the part of him that remembered her did.
âEat before it gets cold,â he muttered.
She didnât answer. But he imagined she was there, picking at the rice and pretending it was a feast. He remembered her saying:
âYou always give me the last bite.â
âBecause you always looked at it like it owed you rent,â he replied once.
He smiled. Then the smile broke.
He turned the next page of the album.
A photo of them on the porch. Her head on his shoulder. His eyes half-closed like even then he was slipping away from something. Something he couldn't hold onto.
âYou were everything good in me,â he whispered.
But the next memory wasnât in the album.
It was in the dark. In the hunger.
The night he returned and she recognized him before he recognized her. Her voice had called out his name not in fear, but in hope. It had stopped him.
There was blood. Her blood. On his hands. In his mouth.
âYou promised to come back,â sheâd whispered. âAnd you did. But you werenât you anymore.â
He curled forward over the table now, fingers digging into his scalp, nails clawing at skin already torn. His mouth opened in a soundless scream.
âIâm sorry, Iâm sorry, Iâm sorryââ
He couldn't stop screaming, tears dripping down on her cold body.
âI am not mad⌠I never was my charm.â
But there was no one left to hear it. Just a bowl of cold rice and a kitchen where the ghost of her still smiled in every frame.
âLeave me alone, Kaneki.â he muttered, the words slipping out the moment the one-eyed ghoul landed beside him on the rooftop.
âDon't you have better things to take care of? Like, what did I hear, you got a child? So fuck off and take care of her.â
Kaneki didnât answer right away. He stepped forward and lowered himself beside him, legs hanging over the edge as he looked out across the city.
âhe said quietly, a faint, almost humorless chuckle following. âRumors about a white-haired ghoul⌠wandering alone at night. Still killing humans just to survive.â
Takizawa said nothing for a long moment.
âSo what now?â he finally muttered. âYou here to arrest me? Or kill me? Honestly⌠I wouldnât mind if you did.â
Kaneki turned his head, facing Takizawa.
âNo, but you know better, we have a solution to our problems. We fought hard for it.
A pause lingered between them, heavy and unspoken.
âBut I'm not here to lecture you. I've noticed that somethingâs been eating you,â Kaneki added.
Takizawa scoffed, bitterness sharp in his voice. âAnd how the hell would you know? Youâve got a wife, a kid⌠your perfect little life. What, youâre still playing the hero? Acting like you care about whatâs bothering me?â
Kaneki rose to his feet, then reached down, ruffling Seidouâs hair with a gentleness that felt almost out of place.
âGod no, you are wrong again. I merely just came to tell youâŚâ
âYouâre not alone,â Kaneki continued. âTakizawa⌠weâre your family. And whateverâs haunting youâŚâ
He hesitated, drawing in a slow breath, his gaze drifting to something unseen, like a shadow next to Takizawa.
His voice softened. âYou have to let it go. Whatâs gone⌠deserves to rest in peace.â
