It's a culmination of months of frustration with his work here. All he's ever wanted to do is help people. That's all. It's led him to make terrible mistakes that he regrets entirely and would never alter if given the chance, because they still helped people, in the end. In the future, it might drive him to madness, but it will never be anything but sincere in its intent. Maruki is sure of that.
What drives him?
Selfishness. A desire for some small amount of control over the pains of an unjust world. An unstoppable need to fight back, to never simply lay down and take it. And altruism. And altruism. Genuine, earnest, all-consuming altruism. He's always hated to see people in pain, always wanted to mitigate it where he can, ever since he was a child who should have been too young to be concerned about such things– there hasn't been a single day of his conscious life where he wasn't putting others first.
It's fine if people don't respect that. If they judge him for it, if they make astute observations about how little he values himself in turn or if they're simply paranoid of his intentions and methods for no good goddamn reason. It's fine. It's never stopped him. It won't ever stop him.
I wonder, Maruki, how much more you can take.
Is there an upper limit? Maruki doesn't think so.
People here think him soft, weak. Useless. If he was soft, weak, useless, he wouldn't still be standing, much less fighting. He wouldn't have ever made it to Somnius in the first place. Would have given up years ago. He has already taken on more than his fair share, and he will continue to take it on until the day he shreds this false reality to ribbons to get home.
Until that day, he's here for them. All of them. Even if they don't give a shit about what he does. Even if they breach the one thing he's repeatedly stated is most important to him, even if they renege on promises to not do so again, even if they compromise the safety of every person that has walked through that door.
That will never change. But at the moment, he's so fucking sick of it.
Akechi upholds his end of the deal, as he always does; he doesn't hold back, doesn't falter, doesn't stop. He attacks ruthlessly, relentlessly, doesn't go down easily, matches Maruki's energy every step of the way as they systematically destroy one another in the clearing behind the castle that's become their training ground.
It's been too long. Weeks spent with Akechi in an altered state every goddamn day, a small, warm weight against his chest nearly every night. Maruki wouldn't trade it for the world, but he's missed this: The Akechi that he knows, that knows him, both of them having sunk their teeth into the very rotten core of one another's souls and found that a poison so similar to their own couldn't hurt them. Sneering at him, snarling his vile hatred, taking hit after hit after hit and doling them out in kind, spitting blood and fury to match Maruki's own, even if the sources differ entirely.
Maruki's knees buckle under another attack as he forces himself to stay standing, fists clenched at his sides, teeth grit so hard that they could shatter in his mouth. He isn't tired yet. He isn't done. ]
You're getting too predictable. I hardly even felt that. Try again.
[ Or! Think fast, idiot! Eternal Radiance time as he's talking shit! By the way, it has a high chance of Dizzy, turns out. Good luck. ♥ ]
Vile. Vicious. Brutal. Air charged with a god's unrelenting power and it
pummels.
Wraps tight around throat, body, and soul - a persona that can warp and distort at the helm of everything.
For once, it feels like Maruki's wish is being fulfilled. Every matched parry, slam of body against ground, crack of weapon against flesh, bless against curse.
Call of Chaos buffered again and again - erratic, and free, against newly unleashed and indomitable. Barbed words running loose - Akechi doesn't know what he's saying. It's all caustic, meant to hurt, meant to distract, meant to provoke. Maruki doesn't waver - never does. Tonight is different.
They stop at this point, on a normal evening, before their limbs go numb and minds turn from static to dull fuzz. They don't. Akechi doesn't. Maruki doesn't. No end to it - it's a fight to the death, but not a physical one. Destroy a mind, a soul.
Everything is clear - more than it's ever been. Throat numb from chattering. Words stop flowing as easy. It's serious.
He hates Maruki.
He hates Maruki.
He hates Maruki.
Call of Chaos again - over and over. More times than he's ever done it in a row - it's thrilling, enthralling. Loki blooming and churning as he dodges those grotesque eyes in mass.
One hits - Dizzy afflicts and he feels his world turn upside down with the sudden attack.
More words flow - cruel as ever. Voice hoarse and he continues to strike with Riot Gun. An extensive attack that might hit, despite his waning vision.
He doesn't care - he's never felt more alive and -
As Riot Gun barrages, Akechi puts itself in the midst. Harisen Recovery done as he charges forward, moves closer.
They keep going.
They don't stop. ]
What a goddamn tantrum you're throwing - it's so pathetic. You're so worthless. You're nothing - absolutely nothing!
[The knife he's spent-
Hours. It feels hours trying to slash against flesh and bone - he can't get close enough to rip his face apart. It doesn't stop him trying to do it again and again. Aiming for face, for neck, for chest - aims to kill, aims to hurt.]
The tentacles are ever-present to shield him, but some of the static rain still glances off his skin to leave thin, streaking burns. They frizzle and fade quickly, though the scorch marks and the sharp ache both persist.
There's no time to take stock of the damage when Akechi lunges at him with that knife again. Maruki reels back, both arms coming up to guard his face and neck–
And the tentacles are just a few seconds too late.
The erratic slash of the blade makes contact, slices cleanly through the sleeve of his shirt to gouge a long gash across his forearm. Maruki yelps as blood blooms up all at once to begin soaking into the torn fabric; he clamps his other hand over the wound on instinct as he staggers backwards, as the lesser tentacles do their goddamn job and rise up from the ground to form a barrier between them. ]
I'm throwing the tantrum? Is that so?
[ No, he's not doing this shit. He's not letting Akechi get near him with a knife again. With nothing more than an irritable snap of his fingers, that barrier of tentacles becomes a violent mass intent on wrapping Akechi up and wrenching him down to the ground by any means necessary. If he manages to slice one, two more will appear to take its place. Maruki's focusing all of his energy on that, the bleeding unstaunched as he laughs, nearly delirious with it.
The Tentacle of Healing is down. It almost always is when they battle nowadays. ]
You've made yourself psychotic enough times that I fear it's going to permanently warp your cognition.
[ His palm is slippery with his own blood. Arm gripped tighter. Teeth clenched in a rictus grin. ]
Will you even recognize yourself tomorrow, Akechi?
[It's akin to drowning - weighted down by unstoppable power and wrath, a sprawling mass dragging him to the earth. He doesn't bother attacking.
why bother
They come back
They trap.
There's always more.
There's always more.
Always more.
Taken down to the earth
again and again
and again and and again.
He's down. Mass all encompassing - around legs, body and throat as if it will stop him. Nothing will stop him. Nothing can stop him. Loki is strong - Akechi is strong. A soul combined and meant to conquer everyone
everything
Even false gods spewing shit from thrones of stolen gold.
Azathoth - resplendent and brilliant. A man broken. Attacked. Taken by more than Akechi's knife - wounds were there, festering and burning. Akechi let it free - let the rot out. Wants to keep letting it out. Likes the way Maruki looks when it's all let out and-]
Screw you - I'll do anything to rip you apart! I don't care what the hell happens - you piss me off!
[Angry - so angry. He's
so angry
He's never angry. He's strong - vicious and cruel. Not angry, only propelled by profound need to drag the unjust down with him.
He'll drag Maruki down.
Become a righteous noose that tightens with every sin.
Eigaon targets a few centimeters behind Maruki.
Intentional. With meaning. Akechi is close - Akechi is close. He's so close. He can-
Dig into decayed spirits and drag it down, down, down into the writhing mass of shit he's forced to yield to.
Akechi slams his knife into Maruki's leg when he gets within his reach - whether he steps forward to avoid the attack from behind, whether he's there, whether he was alwasy there.
He's always there.
Always there.
An impossible to decipher timeline - there's the man, a blade, and a shared resolve between them.
It blade twists around muscle, stops at bone. He turns it askew until it's affixed. A guiding light.
Doesn't let go and-
Uses it as a grounding force to pull, drag, rip himself free of the mass around him - pointed tip into bone, exhaustion persistent and intense throughout his own body and-
It doesn't matter. It won't ever matter. Maruki is still standing and he refuses to lay at this bastard's feet.
A pop in his own leg - he would sooner tear himself to shreds than stay in its grip. A dizzying nausea accompanying it. A burning agony behind it. All forced down by the dull hum of Loki. He'll crush his own bones to kill Maruki. He'll do anything to kill Maruki.
The blade starts to slip from sweat and blood against his palms, shredding through a man's leg. He twists it again - digs it further down, hopes it goes through muscle and points out the other side.]
Worry about yourself, you stupid piece of shit! I hate you! I can't stand you - anything about you. Worthless piece of human garbage!
The blade sinks in, and Maruki cries out – twists, digs, slices, and his voice goes so loud and broken that he chokes on it – stabs farther, wrenches him apart, flesh flayed from muscle flayed from bone, and there's so much blood soaked into the leg of his trousers, pooling in the grass between them, he feels hot tears stinging his eyes as he goes dizzy, can't even hear the noise he's making, a deep animal hurt ringing out through the trees.
His vision swims. The Tentacle of Healing regenerates, sways over him as he drops down to the knee of the uninjured leg, hands coming down to catch him as he starts to sprawl into the grass.
Akechi is right there, blade still dug into his leg, and he could pull it out at any moment, go for the chest next, kill him before Azathoth has time to react.
It's never a fair fight when they get down to this. He nearly died the last time.
They should stop.
They really need to stop.
They won't stop.
He's knitting back together, but it's not without its own struggle, his stamina finally starting to flicker too much for a full heal. Maruki gasps as the blade wrenches free thanks to the help of some lesser tentacles, grips his leg, there's so much blood on his hands now, there's so much blood– ]
I'm not done with you.
[ Hissing, vicious, unrelenting.
A tentacle rises up from the ground, sharp and sudden, for Piercing Strike to hit him again and again and again as Maruki rolls and staggers away from him, back up onto unsteady feet. One thing's for certain: He won't stay down on the ground near Akechi, won't give him the opportunity to get the upper hand like last time. As tempting as it is to wrap a hand around his throat and slam him back down into the ground, that's a fight he won't win.
This is, though.
He will win.
He's forgotten that at one point, they really were training.
Amplify Force and the Tentacle of Protection's Shapeless Guard hit at once, his own strength building as he gears up to be able to pummel Akechi into nothing. ]
[It rings out - a reinvigorating cry, proof that an untouchable man isn't the golden idol he appears. Wet spots on his arm - a splatter, drip, soaking wet blood growing larger, and larger with each dig into Maruki's leg.
Akechi drags himself out from the rot -
Like always.
As always.
Pulled away from prey. Knife dislodged, still in his grip. Wrapped tight in his palm, wet with drying blood. One knee dislocated. Dragged. Keep going - he keeps going. He'll stop when he's dead and he's not dead life flowing through him with every pained noise and gasp from -
A man he hates with every fiber of his being
and himself, as he tries to keep weight off a too still leg. Nauseous. Sick. Head-
poundingslammingrippingshreeding
Loki wanting more. Akechi wanting more.
He gets back up - as always.
There's no stopping.
He's struck back down again-
and again
And again.
With piercing strike. The bad leg buckles - so does he. Back to the ground, forced back up with crimson coated arms. Debilitate at the ready - no more stamina. Loki doesn't do it. No more stamina. It doesn't go through. No more stamina. Piercing Strike continues to pummel, Maruki moves away.
He got him. He'll get him. Injured and backed into a corner. Akechi's been stuck at the back of that cage his whole life.
He'll kill him.
Prove a point.
Gets up again - again and again. Call of Chaos a force of adrenaline when his own supply has run dry and even that -
Is depleted. The rush of energy weak. A force propelling him up, barely, all his weight on the good leg, he-
Slams the bad one against the ground. Force it back. Force it in. Piece himself back together, over and over, until that man is dead. Until Shido is dead.
He laughs - erratic and wild through pained exhales. Nothing snaps together. It doesn't work. Bile crawling up his throat, head light and free, but he isn't done.
One final Riot Gun - he has nothing left. It won't take down Maruki. It never does, but it distracts, it gives him seconds.
He only needs seconds.
onlysecondsonlyseconds seconds is all it takes to slit a throat and it's only seconds
To watch eyes bulge out of a skull
And only seconds to press a gun to a skull and watch fragments splinter with sticky viscous rot against wall, table, and-
Akechi shoots. Gun in hand. Gun at the ready. Gun pressed into his side for emergencies and-
He shoots. Aims for Maruki's chest and shoots - the kickback a kick forward. A stumble back to the ground. A piercing shot numbing to a buzzing head coated and twisting around static and wrath. High pitched. He can't hear - smells smoke and ash and the metallic tang of blood everywhere.]
You're so stupid. You're so stupid. You're so goddamn STUPID!
Debilitate falters, fails. Riot Gun barely glances off them before it fizzles out. He can hardly stand up straight, one leg at a sickening angle, holding himself together through sheer fury. The swirling vortex of Call of Chaos is dulled, its lifespan shortened. He's going fast. Maruki doesn't have to hold out much longer; one more good hit ought to do it, and he has that ready to go, and then they can call this off, be done with it, he can heal Akechi with the last of the energy that he has left and head back inside for the night.
A decent plan, a solid one. A plan not unlike one that would follow most other nights they've fought a little too hard.
Then the gun comes out.
There's no time. The shot fires even before Maruki's fully registered what's happening, dizzy from blood loss and pain. Akechi is too fast.
Azathoth is faster.
It all happens at once: The shot, the wall of tentacles rising up between them to tank the bullet, the boosted Raining Seeds striking down at Akechi as Maruki loses his balance and falls back onto the ground, breathing hard and panicked, hands wrapping around the blood pouring from his leg. ]
Shit–
[ Pain lances through every cell of his body, disjointed burning half-thoughts to get the gun away from Akechi as the mass of tentacles swarm him to do just that. Knock the gun away, the knife. Hold him down. Force him to break his limbs again and again to fight himself down to nothing.
Maruki staggers up to one knee. Watches. Feels faint, sickened. Feels crazed. Azathoth grows as something inside him builds. ]
If you kill me, Akechi, do you know what you'll have?
[ He stands fully then, shifting all of his weight onto his good leg, the Tentacle of Healing doing its level best. The words practically spit out of him, barbed and acidic. ]
You'll have nothing here. Nothing. There is no one who will put up with your shit the way I do. But that's what you want, isn't it? To be alone again?
[ Fuck it, have another Piercing Strike for good measure! ]
Too bad. I won't allow it. You're stuck with me, and it's exactly what you deserve.
[ Tyrant Chaos is ready on deck if he manages to make it out of all of that still psychotic and ready to kill! ]
Edited (In a world where people only see black, white, and Grey, shrek begins to see a colourful room after his dare to kiss sonic at a party. But he was convinced that he loves his wife so he brushes it off and lies saying he still sees black and white. But wha) 2024-09-03 05:07 (UTC)
[It doesn't hit. It doesn't hit. It doesn't hit. It never hits. It doesn't hit. It doesn't hit. It never hits. It doesn't hit. Something hits. Something hits. Something hits and hits and hits and hits.
Slamming into the ground doesn't register - a sudden loss of view does. Maruki gone from his line of sight, both hands empty, dragged back into the muck and rot because it doesn't hit, it doesn't hit, it doesn't hit and-
'If you kill me, Akechi, do you know what you'll have?'
A life set in stone, a life free of bonds.
He has no bonds. Lacks them. It doesn't exist and it's not a lifeline through barbs and twined wire wrapping again and again and again and again around his heart.
It doesn't exist. Not in the fading vision of a swinging corpse hung from a rafter. He can see her face. Hear her voice. Disappointment in the gnarled, warped body of a son that resembles the man she despised most. But Akechi has him - has Shido, who utters false praise with a barrier between them. Always between them. They don't stand together - they're always apart, ten splintered ■■■■■, and desks and it's all split between them. It's split between them.
Maruki stands beside him.
Words come in, and leave. And return, and leave. Repeat against a skull pounding, ripping, shattering apart - every splintered edge grating, dragging, digging, etching too quiet, too loud, too many words in a million little notches. Crippling. A noose around his neck that only he and Maruki can see and-
'But that's what you want, isn't it? To be alone again?'
He's alone. Has been. Will be. Exploitation isn't friendship. Exchanges aren't bonds. He's alone. He'll be alone. Even though the grasping, grappling hands and weight against his body make it seem like he's not alone. Doesn't feel like he's ■■■■■ and he's wondering what it would be like to be alone-
In a dark alleyway, the edge of Tokyo, intestines pooling from his body and-
Put the pulsing wet organs back in. Scoop them with his hand and think about the bodies he took down with him. Maybe one, maybe two, enough of a warning and a loss for loss.
He wouldn't try to struggle for air or stagger to a hospital.
He would wish for-
'Nothing. You'll have nothing here. Nothing. You'll have nothing here. Nothing.'
He has hands forcing him to the ground, bile in his throat, a shuddering breath that hasn't been choked out with-
Staged suicide in the Detective Prince's home, no split rafter because his unit is new. He isn't that far up. Blood will stain the apartment. He won't go down with a fight. He never does. Always does. More bodies than Akechi's littering that untouched carpet. Police take an easy way out from a man they'll never see with their own two eyes.
Akechi will dangle - bloated and blue. No one left for Akechi Goro, no one left to shake a corpse's hand.
He'll have nothing. You'll have nothing. 'If you kill me, Akechi, do you know what you'll have?' Nothing. It always becomes nothing - rot sinks into dirt. Maruki stinks of it. They'll sink together. They'll be alone. Akechi's alone. He's alone. There's no difference if they're alone. Who gives a shit if they're alone and -
'Too bad. I won't allow it. You're stuck with me, and it's exactly what you deserve.'
He knows what comes next when Maruki's voice loses its veneer. Poison and venom over empathy and kindness. The part he likes best. Most. It's vicious and unyielding.
A consequence welcomed from someone who has nothing because that voice is something.
Akechi knows what will happen when he forces his hands under his chest. Push up. Push up. Get up. Get up. And up. and up and up and up andupandup and again and again andagainandagainand again..
When Shido knocks him down-
He has to get up. Every time. Every attempt. Can't leave the cognitive world until he's ripped apart. Can't do the same in reality. Has to slice him. Shred. Destroy.
By all means, any means, no matter what.
Can't breathe and move. Moves anyway. Can't move his leg. Moves anyway. Chest tight, throat tighter, eyes screwed shut under beads of sweat and blood.
Moves anyway. Up anyway.
He can't win. It doesn't matter. He knows what coming and
wants it.
Won't stop. Won't end it. Won't need Loki, who no longer heeds his call, gone. Lost. No stamina, no health. Akechi can't win, but he doesn't care. Feels copper in his mouth - bites it back, bites it down. No more words, no time, only up. Pushes up. Feels shoulder coming apart, maybe it's his head. Thinks it's split open and moves fingers up to his forehead, to top of his skull, to ensure it doesn't stick into thick viscera and brain matter. It hurts and it doesn't.
He gets up. Can't feel leg, can't feel arm. Gets up and keeps his gaze level to Maruki's as best he can when the edges of his vision get darker, and darker.
Maruki remains a light in the center.] Screw you, you high and mighty piece of shit.
Edited (sorry forgot ur quote the mans name was george washington, who had a wig of ecelllence and hot-tery "thans wanna bang" "ok" and then they banged) 2024-09-04 02:51 (UTC)
cw suicidal ideation and a short tag for a thread like this
He's broken down, his limbs useless, consciousness wavering, blood everywhere, everywhere. He's slow to do so, every minuscule motion painstaking, staggering. But in the end, he stands, and in that moment Maruki wants nothing more than this. The two of them facing one another down, torn to shreds by themselves and one another, refusing to give in.
There is no future in which he and Akechi both live, yet they both refuse to die.
They both refuse to die, yet they both accept that they must – yet they both want to, on some level.
Blood-soaked, exhausted, rotten, Maruki smiles at him.
There has never been a person more worthy of how very much he cares for them. ]
You'll live.
[ A promise, a threat. A wave of his left hand.
The Tentacle of Healing spends the last of its energy on Akechi: Dislocated limbs jarring back into place, blood staunching, wounds patching, vision returning. He will live. Akechi Goro will live. Here, and in a memory, and nowhere else.
It only takes a few seconds for the worst of the damage to be reversed, to give him just enough strength to endure one last hit.
Maruki snaps his fingers, and all those tentacles return to Azathoth at once. It's only the two of them in reddened grass and dirt.
In the farthest, darkest corner of his peripheral vision, Azathoth grows, shifts, ascends, bursts forth as a blinding dome of light engulfs them both.
Maruki doesn't need to sacrifice himself this time, but he does anyway. It's only the two of them. It will only ever be the two of them.
Tyrant Chaos hits.
They're done. ]
Edited (A love story The blush and winking aswell as the Obama and Shrek images in the cover being put together is by me. Shrek having muscles and Obama's feminine body is not by me (lost whoever made them). Obvi I don't own Obama) 2024-09-04 03:45 (UTC)
It's over in a single flash of luminescent light. Maruki's smiling face illuminated from behind with a resolve manifest. They don't guard.
They never guard - not at this point.
And it's
quiet.
And it's
quiet.
And it's
quiet.
It's empty. Quiet. Peaceful. Quiet. No barbed edges of his heart keeping chaos and law in check. There's no justice in a silent mind, no need to pull threads up and together. Nothing to tie, nothing but
peace.
It's nothing he's accustomed to. Doesn't matter if he isn't. It is what is is and he's in the throes of matters beyond him and-
Then he's n̸̡̨͇̼͙͖̜͎͖̬̗̆͋̊͊̀̅̅̿̈̏̉̈́̀͗̕͘͝ȍ̴̢̯͉̫͍͆́t̷̰̞͇͈̳̺̼̔̓ͅ.]
He's tired. It hurts. He doesn't care. The sensation of serene peace
ripped away
As always.
Can't remember. It's gone with a crack of his eyes, a body turning on instinct, a skull-
Full of a thousand nails all being hit at the same time. Hand to head - both. It's painful - he doesn't care. It doesn't matter. He can't think and it doesn't matter. Fragments of bone in his eyes - it feels like it. Splintering and shattering.
He breathes.
Exhausted. Spent. Experimental movements to check his body for missing parts, missing limbs.
He breathes. Endures. Alive with every spike of agony from a movement too quick, too much.
'You're alright.' And he swallows down bile.
'You're alright.' And he peels fingers out of his hair.
'You're alright' And he can't even sit up. It's so goddamn stupid.
He breathes - fingers against sopping wet grass, chunks of it charred.] Get up.
[To Maruki. To him. He doesn't move - can't. Throat hurts - voice hoarse, choked out. Every word pushed. Forced. His head hurts. Pounding, aching, a thousand nails in, ten thousand to go.
'You're alright.'
He's alright.
Maruki's alright. Akechi doesn't have to see a breathing body to confirm it.]
He tries. Manages to prop himself up halfway, just enough to see Akechi, before slowly easing himself back down. His concentration was so split between the two of them that the Tentacle of Healing's done a hack job on them both; wounds patched up enough to not be mortal, dislocations and fractures and breaks healed but deep gouges turned shallow cuts still bleeding, tears turned aches still searing.
They're both a mess.
Maruki tries it once more. Manages to heave himself over to lie parallel next to Akechi, head landing in a blessedly dry patch of grass.
The stars overhead, the same ones he looked at with Vash on the night he tried to convince him to return to the castle.
It hurts. Everything does.
A few moments of silence punctuated only by their heavy, labored breathing, and then: ]
Yeah. We're fine.
[ He doesn't turn his head to look at Akechi. Lets his eyes go half-lidded with exhaustion, body doing its best to melt down into the sodden earth and rot away. He can't move. Won't move. He's so tired. They're spent. ]
[There's an irritated, almost amused, snort at the comment. The offer feels less like a choice and more like a necessity spoken aloud.
They fight - often. Brutal, vicious and in a way that stains all they touch. Castle walls, grassy knolls in a backyard.
It's nice out.
He doesn't care to move, so he doesn't. In a few minutes -
He'll get up.]
If you manage to get something comparable, I'll consider it. Otherwise, I see no need to leave. You're welcome to go wherever you desire at any point though.
I might use it as an excuse to experiment with the crystal. I'll let you know what turns up.
[ He has shards to spare. He can try again and again. What's the worst that could happen? Aspects of their Tokyo begin to merge with this reality? Oh, no. That would be horrible. It certainly wouldn't provide a welcome challenge on a more even playing ground.
And then–
Silence.
Warm breeze through nearby trees. Bugs, the kind that don't make him want to tear his hair out. Quiet, even breathing, familiar from so many nights on a makeshift futon.
He'll make sure that all the rooms come already furnished with beds, of course.
Thinks to make a jab about it. Almost tries to, but the effort required for the words sinks like a stone into the depths of his exhausted mind.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
1/3
no subject
OH OKAY.]
no subject
Call of Chaos is happening the second Maruki walks through the door!!!
Good luck king ❤️]
1/2 for thread tracking counting purposes later
> action !!
It's a culmination of months of frustration with his work here. All he's ever wanted to do is help people. That's all. It's led him to make terrible mistakes that he regrets entirely and would never alter if given the chance, because they still helped people, in the end. In the future, it might drive him to madness, but it will never be anything but sincere in its intent. Maruki is sure of that.
What drives him?
Selfishness. A desire for some small amount of control over the pains of an unjust world. An unstoppable need to fight back, to never simply lay down and take it. And altruism. And altruism. Genuine, earnest, all-consuming altruism. He's always hated to see people in pain, always wanted to mitigate it where he can, ever since he was a child who should have been too young to be concerned about such things– there hasn't been a single day of his conscious life where he wasn't putting others first.
It's fine if people don't respect that. If they judge him for it, if they make astute observations about how little he values himself in turn or if they're simply paranoid of his intentions and methods for no good goddamn reason. It's fine. It's never stopped him. It won't ever stop him.
I wonder, Maruki, how much more you can take.
Is there an upper limit? Maruki doesn't think so.
People here think him soft, weak. Useless. If he was soft, weak, useless, he wouldn't still be standing, much less fighting. He wouldn't have ever made it to Somnius in the first place. Would have given up years ago. He has already taken on more than his fair share, and he will continue to take it on until the day he shreds this false reality to ribbons to get home.
Until that day, he's here for them. All of them. Even if they don't give a shit about what he does. Even if they breach the one thing he's repeatedly stated is most important to him, even if they renege on promises to not do so again, even if they compromise the safety of every person that has walked through that door.
That will never change. But at the moment, he's so fucking sick of it.
Akechi upholds his end of the deal, as he always does; he doesn't hold back, doesn't falter, doesn't stop. He attacks ruthlessly, relentlessly, doesn't go down easily, matches Maruki's energy every step of the way as they systematically destroy one another in the clearing behind the castle that's become their training ground.
It's been too long. Weeks spent with Akechi in an altered state every goddamn day, a small, warm weight against his chest nearly every night. Maruki wouldn't trade it for the world, but he's missed this: The Akechi that he knows, that knows him, both of them having sunk their teeth into the very rotten core of one another's souls and found that a poison so similar to their own couldn't hurt them. Sneering at him, snarling his vile hatred, taking hit after hit after hit and doling them out in kind, spitting blood and fury to match Maruki's own, even if the sources differ entirely.
Maruki's knees buckle under another attack as he forces himself to stay standing, fists clenched at his sides, teeth grit so hard that they could shatter in his mouth. He isn't tired yet. He isn't done. ]
You're getting too predictable. I hardly even felt that. Try again.
[ Or! Think fast, idiot! Eternal Radiance time as he's talking shit! By the way, it has a high chance of Dizzy, turns out. Good luck. ♥ ]
no subject
Vile. Vicious. Brutal. Air charged with a god's unrelenting power and it
pummels.
For once, it feels like Maruki's wish is being fulfilled. Every matched parry, slam of body against ground, crack of weapon against flesh, bless against curse.Wraps tight around throat, body, and soul - a persona that can warp and distort at the helm of everything.
Call of Chaos buffered again and again - erratic, and free, against newly unleashed and indomitable. Barbed words running loose - Akechi doesn't know what he's saying. It's all caustic, meant to hurt, meant to distract, meant to provoke. Maruki doesn't waver - never does. Tonight is different.
They stop at this point, on a normal evening, before their limbs go numb and minds turn from static to dull fuzz. They don't. Akechi doesn't. Maruki doesn't. No end to it - it's a fight to the death, but not a physical one. Destroy a mind, a soul.
Everything is clear - more than it's ever been. Throat numb from chattering. Words stop flowing as easy. It's serious.
He hates Maruki.He hates Maruki.
Call of Chaos again - over and over. More times than he's ever done it in a row - it's thrilling, enthralling. Loki blooming and churning as he dodges those grotesque eyes in mass.One hits - Dizzy afflicts and he feels his world turn upside down with the sudden attack.
More words flow - cruel as ever. Voice hoarse and he continues to strike with Riot Gun. An extensive attack that might hit, despite his waning vision.
He doesn't care - he's never felt more alive and -
As Riot Gun barrages, Akechi puts itself in the midst. Harisen Recovery done as he charges forward, moves closer.
They keep going.
They don't stop. ]
What a goddamn tantrum you're throwing - it's so pathetic. You're so worthless. You're nothing - absolutely nothing!
[The knife he's spent-
Hours. It feels hours trying to slash against flesh and bone - he can't get close enough to rip his face apart. It doesn't stop him trying to do it again and again. Aiming for face, for neck, for chest - aims to kill, aims to hurt.]
You'll die back here - I'll make sure of it!
cw injury, blood
Maruki weathers it–
He is so goddamn tired of weathering it.
The tentacles are ever-present to shield him, but some of the static rain still glances off his skin to leave thin, streaking burns. They frizzle and fade quickly, though the scorch marks and the sharp ache both persist.
There's no time to take stock of the damage when Akechi lunges at him with that knife again. Maruki reels back, both arms coming up to guard his face and neck–
And the tentacles are just a few seconds too late.
The erratic slash of the blade makes contact, slices cleanly through the sleeve of his shirt to gouge a long gash across his forearm. Maruki yelps as blood blooms up all at once to begin soaking into the torn fabric; he clamps his other hand over the wound on instinct as he staggers backwards, as the lesser tentacles do their goddamn job and rise up from the ground to form a barrier between them. ]
I'm throwing the tantrum? Is that so?
[ No, he's not doing this shit. He's not letting Akechi get near him with a knife again. With nothing more than an irritable snap of his fingers, that barrier of tentacles becomes a violent mass intent on wrapping Akechi up and wrenching him down to the ground by any means necessary. If he manages to slice one, two more will appear to take its place. Maruki's focusing all of his energy on that, the bleeding unstaunched as he laughs, nearly delirious with it.
The Tentacle of Healing is down. It almost always is when they battle nowadays. ]
You've made yourself psychotic enough times that I fear it's going to permanently warp your cognition.
[ His palm is slippery with his own blood. Arm gripped tighter. Teeth clenched in a rictus grin. ]
Will you even recognize yourself tomorrow, Akechi?
cw: violent thoughts, murder, violence, gore, suicide
why bother
There's always more.
Taken down to the earth
again and again
He's down. Mass all encompassing - around legs, body and throat as if it will stop him. Nothing will stop him. Nothing can stop him. Loki is strong - Akechi is strong. A soul combined and meant to conquer everyone
everything
Azathoth - resplendent and brilliant. A man broken. Attacked. Taken by more than Akechi's knife - wounds were there, festering and burning. Akechi let it free - let the rot out. Wants to keep letting it out. Likes the way Maruki looks when it's all let out and-]
Screw you - I'll do anything to rip you apart! I don't care what the hell happens - you piss me off!
[Angry - so angry. He's
He's never angry. He's strong - vicious and cruel. Not angry, only propelled by profound need to drag the unjust down with him.
He'll drag Maruki down.Become a righteous noose that tightens with every sin.
Eigaon targets a few centimeters behind Maruki.Intentional. With meaning. Akechi is close - Akechi is close. He's so close. He can-
Dig into decayed spirits and drag it down, down, down into the writhing mass of shit he's forced to yield to.
Akechi slams his knife into Maruki's leg when he gets within his reach - whether he steps forward to avoid the attack from behind, whether he's there, whether he was alwasy there.
He's always there.
An impossible to decipher timeline - there's the man, a blade, and a shared resolve between them.
It blade twists around muscle, stops at bone. He turns it askew until it's affixed. A guiding light.
Doesn't let go and-
Uses it as a grounding force to pull, drag, rip himself free of the mass around him - pointed tip into bone, exhaustion persistent and intense throughout his own body and-
It doesn't matter. It won't ever matter. Maruki is still standing and he refuses to lay at this bastard's feet.
A pop in his own leg - he would sooner tear himself to shreds than stay in its grip. A dizzying nausea accompanying it. A burning agony behind it. All forced down by the dull hum of Loki. He'll crush his own bones to kill Maruki. He'll do anything to kill Maruki.
The blade starts to slip from sweat and blood against his palms, shredding through a man's leg. He twists it again - digs it further down, hopes it goes through muscle and points out the other side.]
Worry about yourself, you stupid piece of shit! I hate you! I can't stand you - anything about you. Worthless piece of human garbage!
cw injury, blood, VIOLENCE YAY
The blade sinks in, and Maruki cries out – twists, digs, slices, and his voice goes so loud and broken that he chokes on it – stabs farther, wrenches him apart, flesh flayed from muscle flayed from bone, and there's so much blood soaked into the leg of his trousers, pooling in the grass between them, he feels hot tears stinging his eyes as he goes dizzy, can't even hear the noise he's making, a deep animal hurt ringing out through the trees.
His vision swims. The Tentacle of Healing regenerates, sways over him as he drops down to the knee of the uninjured leg, hands coming down to catch him as he starts to sprawl into the grass.
Akechi is right there, blade still dug into his leg, and he could pull it out at any moment, go for the chest next, kill him before Azathoth has time to react.
It's never a fair fight when they get down to this. He nearly died the last time.
They should stop.
They won't stop.
He's knitting back together, but it's not without its own struggle, his stamina finally starting to flicker too much for a full heal. Maruki gasps as the blade wrenches free thanks to the help of some lesser tentacles, grips his leg, there's so much blood on his hands now, there's so much blood– ]
I'm not done with you.
[ Hissing, vicious, unrelenting.
A tentacle rises up from the ground, sharp and sudden, for Piercing Strike to hit him again and again and again as Maruki rolls and staggers away from him, back up onto unsteady feet. One thing's for certain: He won't stay down on the ground near Akechi, won't give him the opportunity to get the upper hand like last time. As tempting as it is to wrap a hand around his throat and slam him back down into the ground, that's a fight he won't win.
This is, though.
He will win.
He's forgotten that at one point, they really were training.
Amplify Force and the Tentacle of Protection's Shapeless Guard hit at once, his own strength building as he gears up to be able to pummel Akechi into nothing. ]
cw: violent thoughts, graphic violence, attempted murder, gore, self harm (???)
Akechi drags himself out from the rot -
Like always.
Pulled away from prey. Knife dislodged, still in his grip. Wrapped tight in his palm, wet with drying blood. One knee dislocated. Dragged. Keep going - he keeps going. He'll stop when he's dead and he's not dead life flowing through him with every pained noise and gasp from -
A man he hates with every fiber of his being
and himself, as he tries to keep weight off a too still leg. Nauseous. Sick. Head-Loki wanting more. Akechi wanting more.
He gets back up - as always.There's no stopping.
He's struck back down again-
And again.
With piercing strike. The bad leg buckles - so does he. Back to the ground, forced back up with crimson coated arms. Debilitate at the ready - no more stamina. Loki doesn't do it. No more stamina. It doesn't go through. No more stamina. Piercing Strike continues to pummel, Maruki moves away.He got him. He'll get him. Injured and backed into a corner. Akechi's been stuck at the back of that cage his whole life.
He'll kill him.
Prove a point.Gets up again - again and again. Call of Chaos a force of adrenaline when his own supply has run dry and even that -
Is depleted. The rush of energy weak. A force propelling him up, barely, all his weight on the good leg, he-
Slams the bad one against the ground. Force it back. Force it in. Piece himself back together, over and over, until that man is dead. Until Shido is dead.
He laughs - erratic and wild through pained exhales. Nothing snaps together. It doesn't work. Bile crawling up his throat, head light and free, but he isn't done.
One final Riot Gun - he has nothing left. It won't take down Maruki. It never does, but it distracts, it gives him seconds.
He only needs seconds.
To watch eyes bulge out of a skull
And only seconds to press a gun to a skull and watch fragments splinter with sticky viscous rot against wall, table, and-Akechi shoots. Gun in hand. Gun at the ready. Gun pressed into his side for emergencies and-
He shoots. Aims for Maruki's chest and shoots - the kickback a kick forward. A stumble back to the ground. A piercing shot numbing to a buzzing head coated and twisting around static and wrath. High pitched. He can't hear - smells smoke and ash and the metallic tang of blood everywhere.]
You're so stupid. You're so stupid. You're so goddamn STUPID!
cw violence i guess
Debilitate falters, fails. Riot Gun barely glances off them before it fizzles out. He can hardly stand up straight, one leg at a sickening angle, holding himself together through sheer fury. The swirling vortex of Call of Chaos is dulled, its lifespan shortened. He's going fast. Maruki doesn't have to hold out much longer; one more good hit ought to do it, and he has that ready to go, and then they can call this off, be done with it, he can heal Akechi with the last of the energy that he has left and head back inside for the night.
A decent plan, a solid one. A plan not unlike one that would follow most other nights they've fought a little too hard.
Then the gun comes out.
There's no time. The shot fires even before Maruki's fully registered what's happening, dizzy from blood loss and pain. Akechi is too fast.
Azathoth is faster.
It all happens at once: The shot, the wall of tentacles rising up between them to tank the bullet, the boosted Raining Seeds striking down at Akechi as Maruki loses his balance and falls back onto the ground, breathing hard and panicked, hands wrapping around the blood pouring from his leg. ]
Shit–
[ Pain lances through every cell of his body, disjointed burning half-thoughts to get the gun away from Akechi as the mass of tentacles swarm him to do just that. Knock the gun away, the knife. Hold him down. Force him to break his limbs again and again to fight himself down to nothing.
Maruki staggers up to one knee. Watches. Feels faint, sickened. Feels crazed. Azathoth grows as something inside him builds. ]
If you kill me, Akechi, do you know what you'll have?
[ He stands fully then, shifting all of his weight onto his good leg, the Tentacle of Healing doing its level best. The words practically spit out of him, barbed and acidic. ]
You'll have nothing here. Nothing. There is no one who will put up with your shit the way I do. But that's what you want, isn't it? To be alone again?
[ Fuck it, have another Piercing Strike for good measure! ]
Too bad. I won't allow it. You're stuck with me, and it's exactly what you deserve.
[ Tyrant Chaos is ready on deck if he manages to make it out of all of that still psychotic and ready to kill! ]
cw: violent thoughts, violence, gore, murder, suicide, suicidal ideation sorta kinda
Slamming into the ground doesn't register - a sudden loss of view does. Maruki gone from his line of sight, both hands empty, dragged back into the muck and rot because it doesn't hit, it doesn't hit, it doesn't hit and-
A life set in stone, a life free of bonds.
Maruki stands beside him.He has no bonds. Lacks them. It doesn't exist and it's not a lifeline through barbs and twined wire wrapping again and again and again and again around his heart.
It doesn't exist. Not in the fading vision of a swinging corpse hung from a rafter. He can see her face. Hear her voice. Disappointment in the gnarled, warped body of a son that resembles the man she despised most. But Akechi has him - has Shido, who utters false praise with a barrier between them. Always between them. They don't stand together - they're always apart, ten splintered ■■■■■, and desks and it's all split between them. It's split between them.
Words come in, and leave. And return, and leave. Repeat against a skull pounding, ripping, shattering apart - every splintered edge grating, dragging, digging, etching too quiet, too loud, too many words in a million little notches. Crippling. A noose around his neck that only he and Maruki can see and-
He's alone. Has been. Will be. Exploitation isn't friendship. Exchanges aren't bonds. He's alone. He'll be alone. Even though the grasping, grappling hands and weight against his body make it seem like he's not alone. Doesn't feel like he's ■■■■■ and he's wondering what it would be like to be alone-
Put the pulsing wet organs back in. Scoop them with his hand and think about the bodies he took down with him. Maybe one, maybe two, enough of a warning and a loss for loss.In a dark alleyway, the edge of Tokyo, intestines pooling from his body and-
He wouldn't try to struggle for air or stagger to a hospital.
He would wish for-He has hands forcing him to the ground, bile in his throat, a shuddering breath that hasn't been choked out with-
Staged suicide in the Detective Prince's home, no split rafter because his unit is new. He isn't that far up. Blood will stain the apartment. He won't go down with a fight. He never does. Always does. More bodies than Akechi's littering that untouched carpet. Police take an easy way out from a man they'll never see with their own two eyes.
He'll have nothing. You'll have nothing. 'If you kill me, Akechi, do you know what you'll have?' Nothing. It always becomes nothing - rot sinks into dirt. Maruki stinks of it. They'll sink together. They'll be alone. Akechi's alone. He's alone. There's no difference if they're alone. Who gives a shit if they're alone and -Akechi will dangle - bloated and blue. No one left for Akechi Goro, no one left to shake a corpse's hand.
He knows what comes next when Maruki's voice loses its veneer. Poison and venom over empathy and kindness. The part he likes best. Most. It's vicious and unyielding.
A consequence welcomed from someone who has nothing because that voice is something.
Akechi knows what will happen when he forces his hands under his chest. Push up. Push up. Get up. Get up. And up. and up and up and up andupandup and again and again andagainandagainand again..
When Shido knocks him down-
He has to get up. Every time. Every attempt. Can't leave the cognitive world until he's ripped apart. Can't do the same in reality. Has to slice him. Shred. Destroy.
By all means, any means, no matter what.
Can't breathe and move. Moves anyway. Can't move his leg. Moves anyway. Chest tight, throat tighter, eyes screwed shut under beads of sweat and blood.
Moves anyway. Up anyway.
He can't win. It doesn't matter. He knows what coming and
wants it.
Won't stop. Won't end it. Won't need Loki, who no longer heeds his call, gone. Lost. No stamina, no health. Akechi can't win, but he doesn't care. Feels copper in his mouth - bites it back, bites it down. No more words, no time, only up. Pushes up. Feels shoulder coming apart, maybe it's his head. Thinks it's split open and moves fingers up to his forehead, to top of his skull, to ensure it doesn't stick into thick viscera and brain matter. It hurts and it doesn't.He gets up. Can't feel leg, can't feel arm. Gets up and keeps his gaze level to Maruki's as best he can when the edges of his vision get darker, and darker.
Maruki remains a light in the center.] Screw you, you high and mighty piece of shit.
cw suicidal ideation and a short tag for a thread like this
He's broken down, his limbs useless, consciousness wavering, blood everywhere, everywhere. He's slow to do so, every minuscule motion painstaking, staggering. But in the end, he stands, and in that moment Maruki wants nothing more than this. The two of them facing one another down, torn to shreds by themselves and one another, refusing to give in.
There is no future in which he and Akechi both live, yet they both refuse to die.
They both refuse to die, yet they both accept that they must – yet they both want to, on some level.
Blood-soaked, exhausted, rotten, Maruki smiles at him.
There has never been a person more worthy of how very much he cares for them. ]
You'll live.
[ A promise, a threat. A wave of his left hand.
The Tentacle of Healing spends the last of its energy on Akechi: Dislocated limbs jarring back into place, blood staunching, wounds patching, vision returning. He will live. Akechi Goro will live. Here, and in a memory, and nowhere else.
It only takes a few seconds for the worst of the damage to be reversed, to give him just enough strength to endure one last hit.
Maruki snaps his fingers, and all those tentacles return to Azathoth at once. It's only the two of them in reddened grass and dirt.
In the farthest, darkest corner of his peripheral vision, Azathoth grows, shifts, ascends, bursts forth as a blinding dome of light engulfs them both.
Maruki doesn't need to sacrifice himself this time, but he does anyway. It's only the two of them. It will only ever be the two of them.
Tyrant Chaos hits.
They're done. ]
cw suicidal ideation ???? 1/2
It's over in a single flash of luminescent light. Maruki's smiling face illuminated from behind with a resolve manifest. They don't guard.
They never guard - not at this point.
And it's
quiet.
And it'squiet.
And it'squiet.
It's empty. Quiet. Peaceful. Quiet. No barbed edges of his heart keeping chaos and law in check. There's no justice in a silent mind, no need to pull threads up and together. Nothing to tie, nothing butpeace.
It's nothing he's accustomed to. Doesn't matter if he isn't. It is what is is and he's in the throes of matters beyond him and-Then he's n̸̡̨͇̼͙͖̜͎͖̬̗̆͋̊͊̀̅̅̿̈̏̉̈́̀͗̕͘͝ȍ̴̢̯͉̫͍͆́t̷̰̞͇͈̳̺̼̔̓ͅ.]
2/2
He's awake. He's awake.
Awake.
He's awake.
Get upIt hurts.
He's tired. It hurts. He doesn't care. The sensation of serene peaceripped away
As always.Can't remember. It's gone with a crack of his eyes, a body turning on instinct, a skull-
Full of a thousand nails all being hit at the same time. Hand to head - both. It's painful - he doesn't care. It doesn't matter. He can't think and it doesn't matter. Fragments of bone in his eyes - it feels like it. Splintering and shattering.
He breathes.
Exhausted. Spent. Experimental movements to check his body for missing parts, missing limbs.
He breathes. Endures. Alive with every spike of agony from a movement too quick, too much.
'You're alright.' And he swallows down bile.
'You're alright.' And he peels fingers out of his hair.
'You're alright' And he can't even sit up. It's so goddamn stupid.
He breathes - fingers against sopping wet grass, chunks of it charred.] Get up.
[To Maruki. To him. He doesn't move - can't. Throat hurts - voice hoarse, choked out. Every word pushed. Forced. His head hurts. Pounding, aching, a thousand nails in, ten thousand to go.
'You're alright.'
He's alright.
Maruki's alright. Akechi doesn't have to see a breathing body to confirm it.]
We're fine.
[As always.]
no subject
He tries. Manages to prop himself up halfway, just enough to see Akechi, before slowly easing himself back down. His concentration was so split between the two of them that the Tentacle of Healing's done a hack job on them both; wounds patched up enough to not be mortal, dislocations and fractures and breaks healed but deep gouges turned shallow cuts still bleeding, tears turned aches still searing.
They're both a mess.
Maruki tries it once more. Manages to heave himself over to lie parallel next to Akechi, head landing in a blessedly dry patch of grass.
The stars overhead, the same ones he looked at with Vash on the night he tried to convince him to return to the castle.
It hurts. Everything does.
A few moments of silence punctuated only by their heavy, labored breathing, and then: ]
Yeah. We're fine.
[ He doesn't turn his head to look at Akechi. Lets his eyes go half-lidded with exhaustion, body doing its best to melt down into the sodden earth and rot away. He can't move. Won't move. He's so tired. They're spent. ]
We can't keep doing this here.
no subject
They won't stop.
He can't move - only feels and hears the shifting body struggling to lay beside him. It's so pointless to do and it goes unacknowledged.]
Why? Are you getting bored of the backdrop? I didn't take you to be that picky.
[It's a struggle to get out - words slower, tone quiet and marred with a harsh edge from a sore throat instead of anger.]
What are you implying?
no subject
No, but I'm a conscientious guy and aware that our behavior probably isn't suited for housemates.
[ It's certainly not like it will stop. He invited this one on himself. Wanted it, egged it on. So... ]
I can secure housing for us.
[ A beat, and then he manages to work up just enough energy for the teasing grin to be evident in his voice. ]
I'm also aware of how poor you are.
no subject
They fight - often. Brutal, vicious and in a way that stains all they touch. Castle walls, grassy knolls in a backyard.
It's nice out.
He doesn't care to move, so he doesn't. In a few minutes -
He'll get up.]
If you manage to get something comparable, I'll consider it. Otherwise, I see no need to leave. You're welcome to go wherever you desire at any point though.
[And Akechi will follow despite it all.]
no subject
I might use it as an excuse to experiment with the crystal. I'll let you know what turns up.
[ He has shards to spare. He can try again and again. What's the worst that could happen? Aspects of their Tokyo begin to merge with this reality? Oh, no. That would be horrible. It certainly wouldn't provide a welcome challenge on a more even playing ground.
And then–
Silence.
Warm breeze through nearby trees. Bugs, the kind that don't make him want to tear his hair out. Quiet, even breathing, familiar from so many nights on a makeshift futon.
He'll make sure that all the rooms come already furnished with beds, of course.
Thinks to make a jab about it. Almost tries to, but the effort required for the words sinks like a stone into the depths of his exhausted mind.
He'll get up. Eventually. ]
cw: suicidal ideation SORTA
And it's quiet.
And Akechi is quiet. Maruki is quiet. A world stilled outside of nature - Akechi doesn't want to be outside like this.And it's quiet.
And it's quiet.
Doesn't move outside of a tentative push upwards that ends in failure with every creaking bone and aching limb.
Back to the earth again.
He doesn't say anything. Maruki's own breath leveling out -
They really will kill each other someday.
It doesn't upset him to recognize it.
He'll get up in a minute.In a second.
In one more moment he'll force his eyes open and-
It's quiet.
He's out.]