fearfulfortitude-blog

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pourir:

                               ❝ Do you forget, Muuchan?  I’m a ghoul.  ❞

            It’s still foreign. For her human son to know about the fact that her teeth rip through pieces of flesh when he’s lying in bed at night. She loved him dearly, since his childhood, she’d built a house in her ribcage where he could reside. He wasn’t considered an anomaly in any way under her roof, inside her house. 

         Shuu caresses his face, cupping up his cheeks & planting a kiss on his forehead, before examining the rest of his face, & finally allowing herself to smell him. 

                                             AND HE SMELLS FUCKING DELICIOUS. 

       There’s softness in her touch, the way she very slowly moves her fingers, to make sure that this was her son, that a part of him wasn’t taken away with the surgery. He still feels foreign in her hands, like fake cashmere dragging along her palms. 

                                                                     EAT HIM. 

        She parts his kaguan open, making sure that it’s in fact something real, not a joke that he was playing on her. It’s odd to see him with such a monstrous amount of power at his disposal now. He was always such a kind young man. 

                                                       ❝ Nothing scares me, Tooru.❞

    Touch. 

    He thinks it’s funny how such a small word can tap into such a large well of fear and discomfort within him. Isn’t it everything he’d always wanted? Everything he always craved? Isn’t is something he never had enough of? Something he had too much of? T o u c h. Like the thin moonlight spilling through the gap in his bedroom curtain and crawling across the floor, her hands move gently across his face. 

     “Ah...” It’s half sigh, half admission of guilt. “I haven’t forgotten. I can’t.”

    She’s touching his face and he’s tilting into it, eyes fluttered closed until she coaxes them open again. There is a slow process to it; she’s examining him as if she’s looking for something but he can’t guess what. He can’t help. Isn’t that typical? But with just a small kiss and a few reassuring words, he’ll stand still like a show horse, let her search for what she’s afraid he’s missing. He hates this about himself --what would he do for her approval? For her affection? 

    How can he be so vulnerable? So willing to please? For a-- for a ghou--

   "I can be afraid for the both of us,” He’s laughing, but he’s not sure at what. Steering her fingers away from his eyes, he places her palms back on his cheeks and keeps his own hands there as well. The skin is warm and damp from tears and it only makes his self-loathing grow. Of course he would cry like this. “They said that I can still eat human food. Th--that I’m mostly the same.”

    There’s something in his gut, and it’s eating him. And he thinks it quite ironic. 

    “I don’t feel the same.” 

    His hands are trembling.

    “I--I can still eat apples, Maman. And I got out of the academy early by doing this. And--” 

    A noise grows loud in his head, buzzing and buzzing until he’s sure it must be something in his surroundings. He feels unreal, a doll stuffed with cotton and falling apart. What have I done? what have I done? What have I-- 

    “What have I done?”

    There’s a term for who he is: Dead man walking. 

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pourir:

                    It’s not Mutsuki’s scent that’s over powering, but Juuzou’s. It’s the hint of warmth & cinnamon. Shuu won’t comment on that, at least not at the moment because there is no need for hostility. 

                 ❝I’m not hungry. And I’m vegan Tooru, I don’t eat meat.❞

                        She’s not mad at all, at least not yet. 

    “Ah!” He frets, his fingertips drumming over the serving pot’s lid. How could he forget something like that? Was he truly so distracted...? Guilt crashing over him, he sets the food down on the counter and offers an apologetic smile. “I’m sorry, Maman. It’s been a long day. I don’t know what I was thinking.” 

    He can only hope she doesn’t ask for details about his day. He’d have a lot to lie about. 

    “W-would you like coffee instead? I just made some! Kanae took some, too, and vanished. But there should be plenty!” Oh boy, he is trying suspiciously hard, isn’t he?

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    ooc; @ that anon i just got: i, a queer, am not even going to publish your opinion it was that bad.  

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    ooc; I’m gonna get serious here for a hot second. So you can skip if you don’t wanna read The Discourse. I don’t know why i still adore Mutsuki so much. The only way I’m able to like him is essentially to have him as an OC divorced from canon. And that’s how it will continue to be. 

    But I think it’s worth noting that Ishida seems to have both a preoccupation and fixation with LGBT themes while also being confused and replused by them. Look at how he handled Nico, Big Mama, Kanae, and now Mutsuki. There is very little nuance, and often little clarity. Not to mention how most of the characters who aren’t straight or initially cisgender-presenting are heavily tied to being especially dark or villainous. And I don’t think that’s a coincidence. It’s a lot to unpack, and I’ll spare you the 40 page thesis I could write on this. But it’s just food for thought. 

    tldr; ishida sui doesn’t know how to write lgbt folk well and tokyo ghoul is not good representation. 

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your mutsuki is the only good mutsuki

    “I...I had this weird nightmare that a man named Ishida Sui was writing a book about me. And it was really bad. I’m so glad I woke up.”

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    ooc; friendly reminder to read my about/bio. my Mutsuki has nothing to do with Ishida’s “””mutsuki””” at all omg

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@pourir

    “Ah! Welcome home! I made us dinner! Chicken katsu! Your favorite, right?” He’s definitely not making up for the fact that he’s been away from home a lot to sneak behind her back and see You Know Who. Definitely not.

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    ooc; ishida stole my OC and is using him for cheap shock value ??? 

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Hello, it’s me , Almas, with another horrible rp blog. Please rb or like this if you’re interested in rping with a Mirumo Tsukiyama from Tokyo Ghoul :RE!

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Can you see if we have a metal saw? I need to take this handcuff off.

    “M-maman...?!” It isn’t the first odd request he’s gotten from her, nor will it be the last. It’s almost as if he’d hoped he’d misheard her, realization creeping over him slowly and then all at once. “What on earth have you been doing?” 

    With a sigh, his slender shoulder droop as he swallows his fate. “I’ll see if I can fine Matsumae-san to help...”

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ossuaried:

          ❝ says who—? ❞

    “Well, I said ti like that and my mother choked on her coffee and then wouldn’t speak to me.”

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    “It’s...it’s not pronounced ‘Versacky’?” 

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Anxiety: if you are not doing The Most™ then you are a giant fucking failure! go! hurry!

Depression: life is pointless, just lie in bed and stare at a wall all day, we good

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pourir:

                  Once Shuu hears him shuffling through the house, something that she has heard a while a go because of her enhanced senses, but wasn’t particularly keen on outing herself to Mutsuki just yet. She places the pen she was writing with down in the middle off her books,& leaves her desk to greet him with a bone crushing hug. 

                                 ❝ Tooru! I’m so glad you’re home! It’s been quiet without you!❞

                    Of course, Shuu wouldn’t tell him why it was quiet—It was mostly due to the fact that Kanae & he weren’t bickering as much because he was missing. She understood that they were teenagers ( also siblings ) but never understood what the bickering was rooted in. 

                     She’s curious about the eye-patch, without his permission pulling it up, seeing the kagune underneath. Smiling, Shuu can’t tell him why she’s so giddy about the fact that he’s half ghoul. 

                                                          ❝ I think it’s cute, the kaguan.  ❞

    “A--aah--!” He isn’t expecting the warm welcome, his whole body immediately relaxing in her embrace. It had somehow escaped his attention that his muscles were coiled up tightly like springs, depressed under the pressure of his own anxiety. 

    “Hello, Maman, I--” Another unexpected action-- 

    He stands in horror as she slides the eye patch up his forehead. No--! No, no, no! You can’t see it! You can’t see me like this! Please! Don’t think of me like this! All the words can do is swell up and swarm around his skull, pressing up against his lips without being allowed release. He swallows them down with a small gasp and resists the urge to yank the eye patch back into place. 

    “C-cute...?” He’d made a big damn mistake. Why had she let him throw away his full humanity like this? He was so scared, small hands shaking as he places them on each of her wrists. 

    “It won’t go away. I had to ask for an eye patch because I was afraid I was scaring the nurses. I...” He pauses, taking a breath and feeling the stray tears fall. He’d been trying his best at the CCG, putting on a brave compliant face until he got home trembling from the effort. “I can’t control it. You don’t think it’s scary?”

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    “Mmmn...just one more...page...” He’s falling asleep at the desk.

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    Some drink to forget. To escape into the swirled haze of stilted steps and half-remembered conversations. It feels like falling, slowly, slowly, so that you’re almost gliding down to the end of the twilight and the silver-sheened street lamps that pave the way home. 

    Some drink to forget. But Mutsuki...

    “Aa-aaah-- I--I hit send too soooon.” He fumbles with his cell phone, listing dangerously to the left before righting himself again. “Mmmmm now...doesn’t make sense...” He studies the text message before, “How d’you spell admireeable, again?” 

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son