Another wave of a calm. A blanket forced over his head until he suffocates under the weight of his own wrath.
Maruki will persevere and-
Akechi wants him to die and-
Akechi wants him to go back to his shitty apartment and pretend there isn't a slumbering power in the depths of his soul - the same gift that makes him so goddamn special. That reveals itself in hidden strength to rip his hands free from the encroaching vice grip and pushes Akechi's body back.
Maruki won't have Azathoth in reality.
Of course Akechi stumbled. Akechi never stumbles and he would, now, in the wake of this man's power. It's always like this. In the Metaverse, he'll never stand a chance.
In their true reality, everything will work in his favor and-
His stomach churns, heart races, at every vile thought about his end.]
All that shit you stuck your nose into-
[Talk. He wants to talk. Says Don't touch me because a prince's hands are disgusting - coated in the last bit of life of lost lives. I won't hesitate to fight you, Akechi as if-
Akechi wants to talk. He doesn't want to talk. Why would he want to talk when they could fight. Akechi could attack him from behind - justice and fair play is all bullshit in the end. Loki's presence a comforting, sweltering hug as it wraps around his throat again, again, again.
Akechi chokes out laugh - malicious and cruel. Choked through fingers touching his own throat to guide Loki around it and-
Choked through every thought that makes him think Maruki can be moved down a list and-
Maybe the death of a leader was enough to save unknowing followers and-
It doesn't matter. Does. A sidestep towards a pillow showing his intent on talk versus fight, but-]
Does talking change any goddamn thing? I'm a murderer working for the most disgusting, rotten scum on Earth and you want to talk.
[Don't touch me he said. Akechi will oblige. Another sidestep. The room is dizzying shades of muted color - the pillow a new focus. There's a gun in there and he doesn't know why he thinks about it.
But he stops a step short of his threat. He can't remember when a hand fell back against his skull. It feels better when a hand coils around his hair, so he does.]
Fine, you've been so kind to me - let's talk. I've been thinking about you often since we met - don't you wonder what number you are on his extensive list? Important enough to have your research stolen, but not valuable or enough of a threat to make it above a shitty fast food CEO. Your life is worth less than a goddamn burger.
SPECIAL SPECIAL GOD BOY cw: murder, violent thoughts
fights
back.
Another wave of a calm. A blanket forced over his head until he suffocates under the weight of his own wrath.Maruki will persevere and-
Akechi wants him to die and-
Akechi wants him to go back to his shitty apartment and pretend there isn't a slumbering power in the depths of his soul - the same gift that makes him so goddamn special. That reveals itself in hidden strength to rip his hands free from the encroaching vice grip and pushes Akechi's body back.Maruki won't have Azathoth in reality.
Of course Akechi stumbled. Akechi never stumbles and he would, now, in the wake of this man's power. It's always like this. In the Metaverse, he'll never stand a chance.
In their true reality, everything will work in his favor and-
His stomach churns, heart races, at every vile thought about his end.]
All that shit you stuck your nose into-
[Talk. He wants to talk. Says Don't touch me because a prince's hands are disgusting - coated in the last bit of life of lost lives. I won't hesitate to fight you, Akechi as if-
Akechi wants to talk. He doesn't want to talk. Why would he want to talk when they could fight. Akechi could attack him from behind - justice and fair play is all bullshit in the end. Loki's presence a comforting, sweltering hug as it wraps around his throat again, again, again.
Akechi chokes out laugh - malicious and cruel. Choked through fingers touching his own throat to guide Loki around it and-
Choked through every thought that makes him think Maruki can be moved down a list and-
Maybe the death of a leader was enough to save unknowing followers and-
It doesn't matter. Does. A sidestep towards a pillow showing his intent on talk versus fight, but-]
Does talking change any goddamn thing? I'm a murderer working for the most disgusting, rotten scum on Earth and you want to talk.
[Don't touch me he said. Akechi will oblige. Another sidestep. The room is dizzying shades of muted color - the pillow a new focus. There's a gun in there and he doesn't know why he thinks about it.
But he stops a step short of his threat. He can't remember when a hand fell back against his skull. It feels better when a hand coils around his hair, so he does.]
Fine, you've been so kind to me - let's talk. I've been thinking about you often since we met - don't you wonder what number you are on his extensive list? Important enough to have your research stolen, but not valuable or enough of a threat to make it above a shitty fast food CEO. Your life is worth less than a goddamn burger.