Stone against skin, a rupture that twists thin streaks of red, muscle pulsing with air that escapes against Akechi's fingers. A hint of white that might be his spine and-
A discarded prince can never win against a decayed king.
Bone and flesh mend under his stained fingers. Expected. He doesn't fight it. Almost glad for it. Infuriated with it. Work undone in a blink, years of cultivated power overturned by natural gifts.
He can't stand it. The glass in his palm stings and -
Bruised ribs and sore body slammed into the ground. Expected.
Maruki's eyes are broken and bright under an ever growing light forming high above them.
Akechi doesn't look because it's nowhere near the brilliant shade pressing him down with gaze and arm.
He just
wanted
to burn
as bright as they do. Did.
Joker. Maruki. And a grotesque prince playing pretend.
He chokes out a laugh because he
wants
to stop
and he can't.
Because he wants
to live
and he can't. Because he wants to
play chess
with a friend
in a shitty cafe nestled in dark alleyway. Because he wants to
sit at a bar
in a shitty shoebox apartment
two subway rides away from a place that will never be home.
He wants to
to stop
he wants
to stop
he wants to stop
he wants to stop
he can't stop
he'll never stop
It's too late to stop.
Maruki's always there - even now, as he tries to push his exhausted, weary body beyond its limit, beyond the thrall of a distorted ability befitting of evil, of a monster, and Maruki's always there -
Confident, unshakeable Maruki -
He could leave and he doesn't. Stays by his side, pressed into the muck and dirt, willingly festering and rotting alongside. Akechi pulled him down. Maruki could rise. Akechi can't. Maruki could. Maruki doesn't.
Maruki's always there even as -
Blinding, piercing light fills his vision and then it doesn't. A flicker. A thought.
Joker saw a light, maybe, as he tried to focus on a dark tunnel aimed at him.
His mother saw a light, maybe, when the sun touched her dangling body in a small room that felt more like home than anything since.
There's nothing
and he thinks he's happy.
Then there's something and thick white foam is flowing from his mouth with lurching haggard breaths. A lack of food a blessing as everything inside his stomach hits blood soaked ground. On hands and knees, he doesn't remember getting up - an axe is hitting his skull again, again, again in ten even splinters that he's sure he could feel if he could move his glass coated hand to check. Shaking. Weak. Attack unclear. Attack unknown. Attack new.
cw: emeto, murder, suicide, graphic violence! suicidal ideation (????)
and it's what he deserves.
Exploitable. Ruined. Rotten.Maruki will live
and it's what he deserves.
Resourceful. Unrelenting. Powerful.Stone against skin, a rupture that twists thin streaks of red, muscle pulsing with air that escapes against Akechi's fingers. A hint of white that might be his spine and-
A discarded prince can never win against a decayed king.
Bone and flesh mend under his stained fingers. Expected. He doesn't fight it. Almost glad for it. Infuriated with it. Work undone in a blink, years of cultivated power overturned by natural gifts.
He can't stand it. The glass in his palm stings and -
Bruised ribs and sore body slammed into the ground. Expected.
Maruki's eyes are broken and bright under an ever growing light forming high above them.
Akechi doesn't look because it's nowhere near the brilliant shade pressing him down with gaze and arm.
He just
wanted
to burn
as bright as they do. Did.
Joker. Maruki. And a grotesque prince playing pretend.He chokes out a laugh because he
wants
to stop
and he can't.Because he wants
to live
and he can't. Because he wants toplay chess
with a friend
in a shitty cafe nestled in dark alleyway. Because he wants tosit at a bar
in a shitty shoebox apartment
two subway rides away from a place that will never be home.He wants to
to stop
he wants
to stop
he wants to stop
he wants to stop
he can't stop
he'll never stop
It's too late to stop.
Maruki's always there - even now, as he tries to push his exhausted, weary body beyond its limit, beyond the thrall of a distorted ability befitting of evil, of a monster, and Maruki's always there -
Confident, unshakeable Maruki -
He could leave and he doesn't. Stays by his side, pressed into the muck and dirt, willingly festering and rotting alongside. Akechi pulled him down. Maruki could rise. Akechi can't. Maruki could. Maruki doesn't.
Maruki's always there even as -
Blinding, piercing light fills his vision and then it doesn't. A flicker. A thought.
Joker saw a light, maybe, as he tried to focus on a dark tunnel aimed at him.
His mother saw a light, maybe, when the sun touched her dangling body in a small room that felt more like home than anything since.There's nothing
and he thinks he's happy.
Then there's something and thick white foam is flowing from his mouth with lurching haggard breaths. A lack of food a blessing as everything inside his stomach hits blood soaked ground. On hands and knees, he doesn't remember getting up - an axe is hitting his skull again, again, again in ten even splinters that he's sure he could feel if he could move his glass coated hand to check. Shaking. Weak. Attack unclear. Attack unknown. Attack new.Azathoth is strong because Maruki is strong and -
Akechi never had a doubt otherwise.]