A man changed by innumerable years in a broken world. Taller. Stronger. Massive in a way that mimics a personality of a once bold teenager with nothing to lose.
The second Eren left, Akechi stopped jogging up this hill entirely. Avoided the area because it was ultimately pointless to go through the effort of running, if it wasn't to solidify a false bond with an fake ally. He stopped because the action had become as worthless as a man that no longer had a place in his mind. That he no longer thought about. Whose memory was viciously pushed aside when strawberries came with his meal, when he was a little too out of breath from a bike ride, when he saw strands of black in the corner of his eye, when he played chess with shitty nobodies outside of a tavern.
He sees Eren and-
Fury is a sensation his body is accustomed to. The level of anger he feels-
In that second. Those seconds. In the silent moments that follow is unlike anything he's experienced in some time.
The asshole disappeared. Won. Escaped. Akechi doesn't blame him. Finds out pragmatic. Logical. Needed cruelty in the way a godlike entity ignores those left behind. It's necessary. He approved of it because those stupid enough to care need a reminder of how little it matters
It's seeing him now. Here. Returned in flesh, with a sort of abject apathy on his features, that makes him want to wrap his fingers around Eren's throat until he's begging for a death he'll never truly get.
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1/2 CW: violent thoughts
A man changed by innumerable years in a broken world. Taller. Stronger. Massive in a way that mimics a personality of a once bold teenager with nothing to lose.
The second Eren left, Akechi stopped jogging up this hill entirely. Avoided the area because it was ultimately pointless to go through the effort of running, if it wasn't to solidify a false bond with an fake ally. He stopped because the action had become as worthless as a man that no longer had a place in his mind. That he no longer thought about. Whose memory was viciously pushed aside when strawberries came with his meal, when he was a little too out of breath from a bike ride, when he saw strands of black in the corner of his eye, when he played chess with shitty nobodies outside of a tavern.
He sees Eren and-
Fury is a sensation his body is accustomed to. The level of anger he feels-
In that second. Those seconds. In the silent moments that follow is unlike anything he's experienced in some time.
The asshole disappeared. Won. Escaped. Akechi doesn't blame him. Finds out pragmatic. Logical. Needed cruelty in the way a godlike entity ignores those left behind. It's necessary. He approved of it because those stupid enough to care need a reminder of how little it matters
It's seeing him now. Here. Returned in flesh, with a sort of abject apathy on his features, that makes him want to wrap his fingers around Eren's throat until he's begging for a death he'll never truly get.
Akechi stands there.
And then he doesn't. Strides forward and- ]