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:
Loss followed him around like Chuuya was the only holder it could find, and thus decided to never let go. If only Chuuya could say the same about the people in his life.
They always let go.
Or: Chuuya is overwhelmed, exhausted and almost at his limit. What happens if a few glasses of wine tip him over the edge? Will Dazai be able to get to him in time?
Warnings: Heavy Angst, Su¡c¡de Attempt, Alcoholism, Overdosing, Panic Attacks, Angst with a Happy Ending.
Word Count: 4846
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Chuuya had never feared much of anything in his life.
His experience with the particular feeling of fear was scarce, his memories far and few inbetween all the years he could remember. The Lab was something that brought discomfort to him whenever he was reminded of it, though he could never actually surf through the lost memories of his time there. It had never brought upon fear. The streets had taught him survival and how to fight back, rather than teaching him to cower in the face of all the trials and difficulties that life sprung on him.
Losing the two people he had truly come to care about had done nothing but only cause phantom pain to flare up on his side whenever he thought of them. They had kept him around, and he had offered them protection without asking for anything in return. After all, they had just been kids. The Sheepʼs betrayal was just a mere sting on his side that flared up now and then. Chuuya still sometimes wondered how the two were doing, but he could never bring himself to actually check on them. They were fine as long as Chuuya didnʼt dare interfere with their lives again.
Loss had been constant to Chuuya.
It stuck to him like a bird clinging desperately to its perch, trying to outlive the moment and not slip off of the edge. Loss followed him around like Chuuya was the only holder it could find, and thus decided to never let go. If only Chuuya could say the same about the people in his life.
They always let go.
None of them ever stuck around. And somehow, someway, the blame always pointed towards Chuuya. He had literally either gotten his friends killed or had driven them away; just by being himself. Chuuya hated feeling hopeless or weak, so he had plowed through those losses like they were nothing but mere bodies collecting on his feet in a battle. (Except, the battles werenʼt against Enemies. They were always the battles with friends, with people he cared about, that hurt the most.)
