[ My mind is fine as he crushes lenses beneath his fist, My mind is fine as he doesn't relent on the pressure for even a second, My mind is fine as shards of glass pierce and dig and bury into his eyes, My mind is fine as a noise like a wounded animal rips from his throat, My mind is fine as he thrashes, kicks, tries to throw him off, My mind is fine as white-hot-sharp-bright-vivid-red pain beyond pain sears through his mind over and over and over with every gouge and tear and shred and claw, My mind is fine as warm, viscous blood streaks down over his cheeks–
Maruki can't see. Can't hear whatever sounds he's making, or Akechi's cruel taunts, or anything beyond the blaring siren static of his own mind. Can't see. Can't breathe without hitching and choking on a stuttered gasp. Can't see. Can't fucking see. ]
Akechi–
[ Weakened, but not pleading. Faint, but still furious.
The same way he didn't know how he would react to having to fight until Akechi snarled at him to kill that kaiju, he didn't know how he would react to true violence done against him until Akechi pinned him down and tore him apart.
Eren once asked him if he'd rather lay down and die than be a burden on someone else. It was early, so early. Maruki hadn't even moved into the castle yet. At that point – yes, of course, there were any number of instances where he'd rather lay down than whatever the alternative was.
Things have changed.
He's changed.
Azathoth rages in the back of his mind, but it's nothing compared to Maruki's own will to live, to fight.
He grabs blindly at whatever he can – Akechi's shirt, arm, face, hair – tries to shove him off – no luck, and some of the blood has pooled down into his mouth, and he splutters on it, but he still fights– ]
I won't tell you again, get the hell off of me, now!
[ Neither of them can see it – Akechi too singularly focused on his target, Maruki stuck in flickering, bloodied darkness – but Azathoth grows as the power within Maruki ratchets up to an inferno.
cw eye trauma, graphic violence - truly you should not be reading this thread, stranger
Maruki can't see. Can't hear whatever sounds he's making, or Akechi's cruel taunts, or anything beyond the blaring siren static of his own mind. Can't see. Can't breathe without hitching and choking on a stuttered gasp. Can't see. Can't fucking see. ]
Akechi–
[ Weakened, but not pleading. Faint, but still furious.
The same way he didn't know how he would react to having to fight until Akechi snarled at him to kill that kaiju, he didn't know how he would react to true violence done against him until Akechi pinned him down and tore him apart.
Eren once asked him if he'd rather lay down and die than be a burden on someone else. It was early, so early. Maruki hadn't even moved into the castle yet. At that point – yes, of course, there were any number of instances where he'd rather lay down than whatever the alternative was.
Things have changed.
He's changed.
Azathoth rages in the back of his mind, but it's nothing compared to Maruki's own will to live, to fight.
He grabs blindly at whatever he can – Akechi's shirt, arm, face, hair – tries to shove him off – no luck, and some of the blood has pooled down into his mouth, and he splutters on it, but he still fights– ]
I won't tell you again, get the hell off of me, now!
[ Neither of them can see it – Akechi too singularly focused on his target, Maruki stuck in flickering, bloodied darkness – but Azathoth grows as the power within Maruki ratchets up to an inferno.
No, he won't die here. He's only just begun. ]