[ Sometimes in the windmill, it's all too easy to pretend they really do exist in an empty world. Reality slips away and it's only them, only the creaky quiet of the loft.
But that's not the case. There's a whole world out there. And Eren shouldn't be in it.
He never wanted a big place like that, yet he wants all the people he cares about nearby. As ever, his other half is a contradiction. Maruki gives those words the weight they deserve for a few silent moments before speaking again. ]
Do you feel that way at the machiya too? It's okay if you do. I'm just trying to understand.
[ Maruki understands more than Eren can possibly know. He will always hold in his heart the time that he and Akechi spent alone in that home together, when Eren was the only guest. Opening the home up has been his decision every time, and he's never regretted it, but there was something to be said for that period of total solitude with the two people he's destined to know across all of reality.
For Eren, it's surely about acceptance. Maruki doesn't have to ask that, he can guess it. ]
Okay. That's good to know. I want you to be comfortable, though. Life is difficult enough without feeling like you don't have a place to rest.
[ Eren may want to hide away, but Maruki doesn't allow it for much longer. He rolls over to face Eren, still held tight in the circle of his arms, and brings a hand up rest over his nape. ]
[Eren wants to hide away, but Maruki only allows what's best for him; Eren's trust is complete. He looks into eyes that he always takes time to memorize. He'll know them time and time again.]
[ Well, that's something they'll never agree on. ]
It isn't only your fault.
[ Eren is lying to everyone. Certainly, some of the blame rests on his shoulders.
But Maruki has been of the opinion for some time now that others don't try hard enough to accept Eren as he is so that he doesn't feel the need to lie. That's not Eren's fault, not by far. ]
You do what you have to do for self-preservation. Whether it's right or not, the fact remains that you wouldn't have to if others acted differently. It's a two-way street, Eren.
[Eren can't argue with self-preservation. All he's ever known is self-preservation, but when he says that it's his fault, he isn't talking about the mask he wears.
[They're face to face, and Eren can't look anywhere else. There's something wild in the barely restrained pain on his face. Without meaning to, he grips Maruki tighter.]
But it is my fault. [He can barely hear himself. He blinks and sees endless, endless, endless cycles.
[His mouth is hanging open. It takes him a while to pull it closed again.]
[ Slowly, tenderly, both hands come up to cup Eren's cheeks. He's exhausted, pained – always exhausted, always pained. Maruki will anchor him through it, as he always does.
One thumb strokes over a cheekbone as he lowers his voice, though no one is around to hear them. ]
Talk to me. Tell me what you mean. You're safe, Eren.
[Like a voice promising him, "I won't be mad." Eren replayed those scenes a thousand times too. It's the only way he could remember what her voice sounded like.
[His face is held, but his eyes drift away, stare past whatever's in front of them. He feels his jaw click, mouth open again, searching for words to explain the impossible. Tears have welled up hot in his eyes, but he doesn't notice them.]
With the Founding Titan's power, I could manipulate time. Eldian bodies. And so...
[His voice isn't cold, but there's no emotion, either. He sounds like he's reading from a page in a language he's still learning.]
It all had to happen. For the Rumbling to happen, it all had to happen. And I couldn't change it. I tried, but over and over again...
[His voice breaks off with some glottal sound, and his eyes refocus. He looks at Maruki, every muscle on his face shifting into the face of someone who can't believe what they're hearing. He chews on air for another moment, and then:]
My mother. I sent that titan her way. I had to, for Bertholdt to live, so...
[His shoulders shrug, and he still has that terrible, lost looks, even as tears spill over and slip down his cheeks.]
[ For all of their Sameness, Maruki and Eren are not actually the same.
It's a stone he's turned over countless times in his own mind: If given the chance to change what happened to him, what happened to Rumi, to her family, he wouldn't. It's his greatest regret, the great loss that will haunt him across all realities, and there isn't a single thing he would do differently. Everything had to happen as it did to bring him to where he is now in his life, the gossamer thin veil shrouding reality from the collective unconscious a hair's breadth from his grasp. His goal may have changed, but his other self will always have the power of a god, and that isn't something he can ever lose.
But Maruki had no hand in those events. They happened to him, not because of him.
Learning that Eren was the one to set in motion not only the undoing of his reality, but of himself, of what– who he loved most–
It only makes sense, in the worst way. And it's something Maruki can never begin to understand, not really. Not in practice.
But he can accept. He can breathe, chest rising and falling deep and even where it's pressed against Eren's. He can wipe away hot tears and hold the gaze of the person he adores with every last scrap of his soul, not in spite of the horrible things Eren tells him, but because of them.
He can love. ]
I understand what you're saying now. [ Impossibly soft, unbearably gentle. ] You had to, no matter the consequences. You had to. But, Eren...
[ Maruki shifts to gather Eren up in his arms, pulls him in as close as they can get, holds him tight. Tighter. ]
Even if it was your fault. You're still allowed to hurt.
[ And then, through a kiss pressed to his forehead: ]
[Eren all but retches, and he gasps, "No," then promptly stops breathing. He burrows in deep against Maruki, shaking his head, nothing less than pure panic seizing every inch of him.]
Not letting yourself feel that isn't any better, Eren. For you or for her memory.
[ It hurts. It hurts him, so he can't imagine how much it hurts Eren.
And he isn't strong enough for this, not really, but he still does his best to try to sit up so he can pull Eren into his lap, clumsy and desperate to hold him as he deserves. ]
cw: parent death/grief THIS WHOLE THREAD how did this happen
[Their difference in strength and size rarely seems to matter at times like these. One moment, Eren is on the ground, and the next, he's in Maruki's lap, wrapped around him. Somewhere in between, panic shattered all at once into misery. Eren sobs unlike Maruki has ever heard him, when Maruki has heard more than anyone.]
But it's my fault. I killed her. She loved me more than anyone, and I killed her.
[ He's thought that nothing could sound worse than Eren's wretched, gagging, wailing sobs over the loss of Mikasa, or the grief-laden scream he let out that first night that they were reunited and Maruki showed him his first tenderness in years.
This is worse. Phenomenally, infinitely worse. Maruki can do nothing but cling to him tighter than ever, body swaying slightly as if to rock him, head bent down low to speak close to his ear. ]
She loved you. And you love her. That's what matters, in the end– that's what endures. Even beyond death. It's okay to feel it. It is...
I emerge from a night of labyrinthum threading covered in blood
I do. [That's the most miserable sob yet. His body lurches with it, and his fingers dig into Maruki's back, more than hard enough to hurt.
[He repeats it, barely loud enough to hear: "I do. I do. I love her. I swear I do."
[He whispers other things too - tells Maruki about his longstanding fear that she'll arrive in the garden, how he can't imagine a worse Hell than always wondering, knowing that he couldn't face her either way, always turning over his shoulder to look for her anyway.
[He cries until he has to stop to keep from throwing up. He's reminded to breathe, but he isn't sure if Maruki's just said it, or if it's just that voice he always hears in his head.
[Everything seems to shut down all at once after that. Eren goes deathly silent, were it not for still heavy breathing. At some point, he gains hold of Maruki's hand and toys with it, head resting heavy on the man's shoulder. He feels dazed.
[ Maruki holds him through it all. It's all he can do, in the end. Hold Eren close, even when he grips bruises into Maruki's back, even when his tears choke and gag him through another miserable confession, even when he finally goes still and limp, entirely spent.
His own cheeks are a bit damp too. He can't help it. To see Eren cry like this– only a monster would be able to withstand it without crying with him. His soul's love's pain is his pain too. He's just as exhausted, by the end of it...
Maruki strokes the hand that hasn't been taking through Eren's hair, soothing in its compulsion, and rests his cheek down against Eren's head. ]
You can't destroy me. I can't lose you. It's why we're eternal.
[ A long, heavy beat, and then it slips out, almost an afterthought despite the weight to the words: ]
You can call me Takuto. If you want. Just when we're alone, like this...
[ There's nothing to hide between them anymore. It's all laid bare, every last bit of it; the only thing Maruki has left to give is a name no one has spoken since the sun went down on a sterile hospital room. ]
[Eren leans just barely away. It's the first time he's managed to look at Maruki's face in...hours? He can't tell.
[He loves him. That's all that shows on his face. It's such a simple expression, no complicated layers. Blame that on the exhaustion, too, maybe. He seems distracted by Maruki's face, fingers slipping up under his glasses to brush tears away.
[ It's the strangest thing to hear after all this time, but– it's right for it to happen this way. Privately, Maruki's glad that no one else in Somnius ever saw fit to call him by his given name on their own, no matter how close they are. He can ease back into hearing it without immediately hearing wretched, panicked shrieks echoing off the walls with the person who makes him feel safest. It's fine. It will be fine.
The corners of his lips turn up, though the smile doesn't yet meet his tired eyes as Eren thumbs away the dampness beneath them. He squeezes Eren's hand, and the smile flickers warmer, more genuine. ]
You got it. Thank you...
[ Oh, they're both worn out. Maruki can feel it, heavy in the chilly air of the windmill. ]
[Eren obeys, a sniffling child. He tucks himself up under the blanket, then throws it over Maruki too. He pulls the covers all the way up over their heads until it's too dark to see, and then he moves close, waiting to be enveloped again.]
This is what I want. Just to stay like this. With you.
[ Darkness overtakes them, warms them through. Maruki takes just a moment to sneak a hand back out and place his glasses somewhere safe, but then his arm wraps around Eren to pull him in to lay his head against his chest, the two of them situating themselves in pitch black. ]
Then what's what we'll do. For as long as we can. [ Delicate fingers brush blindly over Eren's browbone before trying again for his hairline, fingertips mussing the loose strands. ] Don't worry about anything else right now. Just be here.
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no subject
Was that the case before you returned, too?
no subject
I never wanted a big place like that. I never wanted any place. I shouldn't be here at all, so I hate it.
It's worse now though.
no subject
But that's not the case. There's a whole world out there. And Eren shouldn't be in it.
He never wanted a big place like that, yet he wants all the people he cares about nearby. As ever, his other half is a contradiction. Maruki gives those words the weight they deserve for a few silent moments before speaking again. ]
Do you feel that way at the machiya too? It's okay if you do. I'm just trying to understand.
no subject
When it was only you and Akechi, I didn't. Not really.
no subject
For Eren, it's surely about acceptance. Maruki doesn't have to ask that, he can guess it. ]
Okay. That's good to know. I want you to be comfortable, though. Life is difficult enough without feeling like you don't have a place to rest.
[ Eren may want to hide away, but Maruki doesn't allow it for much longer. He rolls over to face Eren, still held tight in the circle of his arms, and brings a hand up rest over his nape. ]
no subject
It's my fault.
I'm still lying to everyone.
[He hates it. He always has.]
I can't stop.
no subject
It isn't only your fault.
[ Eren is lying to everyone. Certainly, some of the blame rests on his shoulders.
But Maruki has been of the opinion for some time now that others don't try hard enough to accept Eren as he is so that he doesn't feel the need to lie. That's not Eren's fault, not by far. ]
You do what you have to do for self-preservation. Whether it's right or not, the fact remains that you wouldn't have to if others acted differently. It's a two-way street, Eren.
oh no
[They're face to face, and Eren can't look anywhere else. There's something wild in the barely restrained pain on his face. Without meaning to, he grips Maruki tighter.]
But it is my fault. [He can barely hear himself. He blinks and sees endless, endless, endless cycles.
[His mouth is hanging open. It takes him a while to pull it closed again.]
All of it. Not just the Rumbling. All...of it.
sobs SOBS
One thumb strokes over a cheekbone as he lowers his voice, though no one is around to hear them. ]
Talk to me. Tell me what you mean. You're safe, Eren.
HHHHHHHHH
familiar.
[Like a voice promising him, "I won't be mad." Eren replayed those scenes a thousand times too. It's the only way he could remember what her voice sounded like.
[His face is held, but his eyes drift away, stare past whatever's in front of them. He feels his jaw click, mouth open again, searching for words to explain the impossible. Tears have welled up hot in his eyes, but he doesn't notice them.]
With the Founding Titan's power, I could manipulate time. Eldian bodies. And so...
[His voice isn't cold, but there's no emotion, either. He sounds like he's reading from a page in a language he's still learning.]
It all had to happen. For the Rumbling to happen, it all had to happen. And I couldn't change it. I tried, but over and over again...
[His voice breaks off with some glottal sound, and his eyes refocus. He looks at Maruki, every muscle on his face shifting into the face of someone who can't believe what they're hearing. He chews on air for another moment, and then:]
My mother. I sent that titan her way. I had to, for Bertholdt to live, so...
[His shoulders shrug, and he still has that terrible, lost looks, even as tears spill over and slip down his cheeks.]
See? It is. All of it.
no subject
It's a stone he's turned over countless times in his own mind: If given the chance to change what happened to him, what happened to Rumi, to her family, he wouldn't. It's his greatest regret, the great loss that will haunt him across all realities, and there isn't a single thing he would do differently. Everything had to happen as it did to bring him to where he is now in his life, the gossamer thin veil shrouding reality from the collective unconscious a hair's breadth from his grasp. His goal may have changed, but his other self will always have the power of a god, and that isn't something he can ever lose.
But Maruki had no hand in those events. They happened to him, not because of him.
Learning that Eren was the one to set in motion not only the undoing of his reality, but of himself, of what– who he loved most–
It only makes sense, in the worst way. And it's something Maruki can never begin to understand, not really. Not in practice.
But he can accept. He can breathe, chest rising and falling deep and even where it's pressed against Eren's. He can wipe away hot tears and hold the gaze of the person he adores with every last scrap of his soul, not in spite of the horrible things Eren tells him, but because of them.
He can love. ]
I understand what you're saying now. [ Impossibly soft, unbearably gentle. ] You had to, no matter the consequences. You had to. But, Eren...
[ Maruki shifts to gather Eren up in his arms, pulls him in as close as they can get, holds him tight. Tighter. ]
Even if it was your fault. You're still allowed to hurt.
[ And then, through a kiss pressed to his forehead: ]
You're still allowed to grieve.
no subject
No. No, she deserves better than that.
no subject
Not letting yourself feel that isn't any better, Eren. For you or for her memory.
[ It hurts. It hurts him, so he can't imagine how much it hurts Eren.
And he isn't strong enough for this, not really, but he still does his best to try to sit up so he can pull Eren into his lap, clumsy and desperate to hold him as he deserves. ]
cw: parent death/grief THIS WHOLE THREAD how did this happen
But it's my fault. I killed her. She loved me more than anyone, and I killed her.
YEAH OOPS. OOPS!!!
This is worse. Phenomenally, infinitely worse. Maruki can do nothing but cling to him tighter than ever, body swaying slightly as if to rock him, head bent down low to speak close to his ear. ]
She loved you. And you love her. That's what matters, in the end– that's what endures. Even beyond death. It's okay to feel it. It is...
I emerge from a night of labyrinthum threading covered in blood
[He repeats it, barely loud enough to hear: "I do. I do. I love her. I swear I do."
[He whispers other things too - tells Maruki about his longstanding fear that she'll arrive in the garden, how he can't imagine a worse Hell than always wondering, knowing that he couldn't face her either way, always turning over his shoulder to look for her anyway.
[He cries until he has to stop to keep from throwing up. He's reminded to breathe, but he isn't sure if Maruki's just said it, or if it's just that voice he always hears in his head.
[Everything seems to shut down all at once after that. Eren goes deathly silent, were it not for still heavy breathing. At some point, he gains hold of Maruki's hand and toys with it, head resting heavy on the man's shoulder. He feels dazed.
[Murmurs:]
You're the only one I can't destroy. Maruki...
no subject
His own cheeks are a bit damp too. He can't help it. To see Eren cry like this– only a monster would be able to withstand it without crying with him. His soul's love's pain is his pain too. He's just as exhausted, by the end of it...
Maruki strokes the hand that hasn't been taking through Eren's hair, soothing in its compulsion, and rests his cheek down against Eren's head. ]
You can't destroy me. I can't lose you. It's why we're eternal.
[ A long, heavy beat, and then it slips out, almost an afterthought despite the weight to the words: ]
You can call me Takuto. If you want. Just when we're alone, like this...
[ There's nothing to hide between them anymore. It's all laid bare, every last bit of it; the only thing Maruki has left to give is a name no one has spoken since the sun went down on a sterile hospital room. ]
no subject
[He loves him. That's all that shows on his face. It's such a simple expression, no complicated layers. Blame that on the exhaustion, too, maybe. He seems distracted by Maruki's face, fingers slipping up under his glasses to brush tears away.
[Eren's never heard anyone call him...]
Takuto.
[Did he say it right?]
Takuto.
Okay...
no subject
The corners of his lips turn up, though the smile doesn't yet meet his tired eyes as Eren thumbs away the dampness beneath them. He squeezes Eren's hand, and the smile flickers warmer, more genuine. ]
You got it. Thank you...
[ Oh, they're both worn out. Maruki can feel it, heavy in the chilly air of the windmill. ]
Lay back down with me. You should rest.
no subject
This is what I want. Just to stay like this. With you.
no subject
Then what's what we'll do. For as long as we can. [ Delicate fingers brush blindly over Eren's browbone before trying again for his hairline, fingertips mussing the loose strands. ] Don't worry about anything else right now. Just be here.
no subject
no subject
I promise.
I stopped sleeping to kill you in yours
[She’s just washing dishes. He sits and watches her.
[That’s all.]