A bunch of unrelated fics of SKK.
(Mostly centered around Hurt Chuuya and Comforting/Caring Dazai.)
Total Word Count: 125k+
Note: I take no credits for this fic. Itʼs currently an on-going series on ao3, posted by a friend of mine. Iʼve already ask...
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Summary: He had no energy nor any will to do practically anything. The redhead felt pathetic for feeling this way.
But he couldnʼt very well take a merry day off of work.
Or: Chuuya feels considerably horrible about himself and ends up harming himself. Dazai appears at the wrong time but ends up doing the right thing when he helps the redhead out.
Warnings: Graphic Descriptions of Self-Harm, including Depressing Thoughts (do not read if easily triggered), Angst with a Happy Ending, Fluffy Ending.
Word Count: 5,083
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Chuuya was aware of the fact that he was currently spiralling dangerously.
Truthfully, he didnʼt remember what caused the sudden change. Or when it happened. Chuuya could only recall the numbing feeling of waking up one boring Tuesday and hardly being able to get out of bed. He had no energy nor any will to do practically anything. The redhead felt pathetic for feeling this way.
But he couldnʼt very well take a merry day off of work.
By that, he meant read between the fucking lines and detect the sarcasm. Chuuya honestly did not have the energy to deal with anyone, let alone actually spend his day working, even if it was simply paperwork. And he still had four days to go before he could rest properly, with the sheer amount of paperwork there was and all the meetings he was required to attend.
Chuuya somehow willed himself to move out of his bed when his second alarm went off.
He rarely even let the first alarm go off, waking up before it could start with its annoying ringing sound. Honestly, who the fuck thought it was a good idea to put such an annoying ringtone as the default? Did people actually liked listening to that shit-show? Anyways, as he was previously addressing, to let it get till the second alarm heʼd added only as a precaution? It heavily spoke of his mental state.
When Chuuya got to the Port Mafia building and sat down in his office, he was about ready to call it a day and head back to his bed to wallow in the shadow of darkness that didnʼt seem to want to leave him alone.
It wasnʼt like the shadows werenʼt a constant. No, the opposite really. The shadows were always there, waiting, watching, anticipating. They left Chuuya feeling uneasy. But he couldnʼt exactly make the darkness of his mind go away, no matter how hard he tried. After all, ignoring its existence didnʼt mean it ceased to exist.
Not all days were bad, of course.
But some days, when it got worse than usual, when he felt completely suffocated and utterly consumed by the dark, Chuuya couldnʼt ignore the lingering feeling of disgust it left within him. The regret, the guilt, they remained etched into his skin—just like the marks of Corruption were always there, phantom touches and pains, despite only ever showing up when he chanted those godforsaken words.
