Work Text:
Life is a torture, a damn good one at that. Humans cannot live life without pain, Because with no pain, there is no pleasure to a boring life. Humans all crave the same thing ever since pain was introduced to them, Pleasu—
The pen is moved to scribble all over the text and paper, making a pudgy black mess of drained ink on the soggy black paper. The pen was harshly gripped by a pale, small, hand that was sweating despite the cold air that wafted everywhere in the room
Akutagawa groans, a miserable pitiful groan that could be hilarious to laugh and point at by the stupid stupid stupid STUPID boys at school with their ‘ice-cream’ hair and yellow teeth and long gums and endless pimples and sweat-clad sunburnt in a ‘tan’ skin
But Akutagawa isn't any better in appearance-wise anyways, isn't he?
Pale corpse-like skin with black splotches (seriously, is he rotting?) and yellow-like bruises decorating said skin, Choppy short black hair with frosted tips and not even bangs that look so hideous and gross, Big black bottomless emotionless eyes with eyebags as deep as the Mariana Trench, Skinny Skeleton-like body with ribs peeking out of his skin and way too underweight and disgusting, And the keloid and fading scars decorating his thighs and arms and especially, especially the somehow-still-there mark of a rope deeply engraved into his neck like a carving.
A sigh escapes from the ill teenager’s lips and plants his head on the already-dry paper that taunts him despite being on the operation table that belonged to the sick, sick, weak boy.
He's definitely not opted for life. Not at all.
Akutagawa just huffs once more and lifts his head up, Slamming a hand on the paper and curling the paper into a ball– that he later then throws into the trashcan full of other meaningless discarded failures of essays.
He walks over to the bed with weak aching and shaking legs that can barely carry him on and collapses face-first on the messy mattress that hadn't been cleaned in probably two months or so. He's certain he hates uncleanliness due to the past environment where he used to reside with Gin, the slums.
Akutagawa lets a shaky sob escape the confining walls of his mouth as tears huddled up in his eyes and starts shedding, dripping down his cheek to his dirty mattress easily, like a raindrop on the window in a bad stormy weather.
The ill teen can feel the way his bones are aching and the specific ways they're moving- inside of his worn-out weak body. His flesh feels as if they're wriggling and writhing and laughing at his misery in his already saddening and pathetic whimpering state. Not only that, but his clothes don't feel like clothes, it feels more like someone's stitched the dead skin of multiple stray dogs onto his battered body and left it there to rot and for flies to fly around and feast upon the trash. His eyes feel like they're slowly and painfully sinking into his skull and cackling in delight at his poor, unfortunate self. His skin is itchy, way more itchy than usual.. and the scars are taunting him with the way they writhe and wriggle and giggle on his blemished skin, he just wants to cut them out. Cut it all out. Cut it.. all.. ou..
A slap comes to grace his left cheek, the shaky and ghastly pale bony hand resting atop and lingering on his slowly reddening skin, The sick boy could do nothing but cry and cry as he continues to slap himself, trying to make the pain overpower the feeling of wrong and just plain, wrongness lingering in his weird weak body. It doesn't work, it just adds on to the pile of overwhelming things.
The tears start to soak a lot more into the dirty, disgusting bed, making a puddle of wet and absorbed tears. It feels weird and uncomfortable to be lying face on soggy things, especially if it's ridden with your bitter salty tears.
Akutagawa weakly clutches the pillow and lifts his face up from his bed, eyes puffy and red and utterly pathetic. He could never stop seeing himself in such a god awful pathetic way, Because that's how he was born, it was all natural like that, cursed ever since his very first existence. Like an injured fly, he struggles to support himself to sit up. Arms trembling and shaky and weak, taunting his existence. A shaky sigh escapes his pale lips as he just stares outside into the abyss. Awfully aware of the beatings of his heart slowly rising and then slowing down again, it sounds so unnatural and weird.
He doesn't know what to do.
Actually..
Has he ever known what to do all his life?
What a thought to think about, it's truly amazing.
Akutagawa ignores the bitter thoughts clouding up in his head, they're suffocating and drowning him and he doesn't need any more negativity than he already has. It's depressing. To be so acquainted with sorrow itself. He tries to steady his vision, but nonetheless his vision swims and it feels as if his eyesight got sick of him too.
He doesn't want to be blind yet, that can happen when he's actually dead, just not now yet. It's too much of a bother to actually be more disabled than he already is. A cattle who's malnourished, skin tight around small bones, pathetic, weak and absolutely disgusting and revolting to even look at. Especially the revolting scars scattered all over his body, it's ugly.
They're on his arms, thighs and a few are even on his hips. Old scars marking pale skin with keloids, pinks and dark dull browns. He definitely looks like a mushroom spore with mold, maybe even an incel’s room.
Actually, what is he thinking about? His own room is messy and dirty, filled with dirty bloody clothes and paper and food wrappers and other items.. despite being a clean freak and genuinely hating things that are too messy.
Huh, guess you'll have to hate things you oh so welcome to accept into your thoughts and minds. It's a destructive behavior and one he can't help but express.
Okay.. enough of whining and crying and throwing a stupid tantrum like a stupid little child. He needs to man up and actually do his homework. It's just homework. It won't come alive. It won't do anything suspicious. It won't do anything that could potentially terrify and hurt Akutagawa…so he's.. all safe and alright.
It's just homework, it won't get up and morph into several men touching him, touching his body everywhere wherever their hands and fingers reach and even their disgusting herpes-clad pathetic genitalia that looks like some horse just shat on it with the way it permeates shit piss-colored sperm in a short time. Won't get all touchy and clingy and try to dig out warmth from his bloodied insides. Won't bend him over and choke him till he can't even utter a word.
It's just homework.
….. It's just homework.
Akutagawa sighs, and he honestly can't seem to muster up the courage or motivation to get out of his bed, out of the indent of how often he's stayed in bed. So instead of proceeding with trying to be productive, He grabs over his phone ; It's not big, it's just enough. Black, and has decent memory and storage space. Simple enough. Simple things, he fancies simple things. It's simple, it's easy and it's practical.
The ravenette is missing human interaction, the social kind. It seldom happens, As Akutagawa is what many would say.. an ‘anti-social’. But when it does happen it feels the worst. The absolute worst. It claws at his chest, he isn't able to breathe, his chest and heart feels heavy, his head is going light so light itt feels like it's bout to pop off like a balloon held in a toddler's hand.
“Aha… I'm so fucking.. pathetic. Haha…” As soon as those words left the pale boy's mouth, he immediately felt worse. It was fucking cringe and edgy! Why wouldn't he feel like shit?! What a fucking joke! He's always been one hasn't he??
Dazai was right, a mistake like him—what is there of any potential inside him? When he's as stupid, as unhealthy, as miserable, as pathetic as himself. It's like Akutagawa's burning and being tortured for all of eternity in hell.. staring, looking, at the pearly passion gates of heaven. He was constantly rooted to the land of suffering, leeching off of him like pork tapeworms and brain-eating amoeba slowly biting little chunks off his already rotting brain. He can feel it. He can feel it. He can feel it. He can feel it.
Akutagawa's brain feels like it's writhing, electric shocks sent everywhere in his body like a paenibacillus vortex. The feeling is absolutely abhorrent. It's painful. It hurts. Eating away at his already short lifespan, his head can't stop spinning and feeling lightheaded.
Akutagawa turns on his phone, and stares for a bit at the wallpaper.
A photo of him and Gin, specifically when they first somehow afforded their very apartment. Gin is smiling wide joyously, it's obvious that it's genuine and real. Her eyes are squinted a little, shining bright and beautiful as always. Then his eyes move to the abomination on Gin's side. Pale skin, sickly. Sunken in face and eyesacks. Not even smiling- he looks bad with a smile anyways. Black eyes just staring into the camera. Not an ounce of emotion can be seen in them. But the repulsiveness is obvious and Akutagawa doesn't feel like Ryuunosuke.
Ryuunosuke was a good brother, at least he tried to be one. Ryuunosuke cared about what Gin thinks, about what she wants, her needs, her very desires, her survival, her safety and.. and..
…And.. and Akutagawa just appeared and went and killed Ryuunosuke.
With a blade held in his hand, staring into Ryuunosuke's eyes that held fiery determination if you looked into them with a telescope. He stabbed Ryuunosuke over and over again. His chest, the part beneath his abdomen, his disgustingly provocative legs. He left that boy to dry by pinning him up and into a cross with nails on the wrists and ankles and forehead. And left him there to dry with a bowl underneath his feet to absorb all the moisture and liquid that slowly left Ryuunosuke's body. Akutagawa then flayed that boy, scooping out some of his insides then crawling into the cold tight skin and flesh human stuff suit where the flesh laughed and wriggled and grinned toothily at the invading anomaly. The way Ryuunosuke's bones would creak oh so every often and remind Akutagawa of the grave sin he's committed. Akutagawa..
Akutagawa killed Gin's older brother. And plays in his skin to taunt her.
Akutagawa can't even regret it. He's the reason why Gin left in the first place. Became too overbearing and controlling and now she's left to live with Tachihara and Higuchi. It's all his fault anyways. No need to feel bad for himself when it's all his own fault for being such a bad older brother.
Akutagawa opens up DikCok and scrolls down, what do those edgy 2×2Chan larpers say? Doomscroll? That's it. That's what annoying useless Akutagawa is doing.
He comes across a couple of interesting videos. One of a pair of siblings committing a gruesome and graphic insane murder. A video describing how some political totally not a secret grooming fascist cult club at some university. AI Jesus telling random conservatives to hate on trans and queers and the left. Dark and absurd poetry. Fancy gothic looking clothing that Akutagawa only wishes he could buy. A few kitten vids and some more 2×2Chan larpers.
Akutagawa…. Could care less. He has other matters than to bother with fiction and nonfiction.
He could always text back the random group chat Ranpo had made. But the thought of actually socializing despite craving for it.. makes bile rise in Akutagawa's mouth and he almost retches.
So he just goes back to doomscrolling.
(...)
A few hours had gone by.
Or probably more.
Akutagawa looks up at his phone again. The battery is low and right now it's.. 4 AM. It was just 9 PM last he checked. Time sure does fly by quite fast.
School is in two and a half hours. He better get ready. After all if Akutagawa isn't wrong he's supposed to have a biology + physics and c
hemistry exams today. So… one hour dedicated to trying to study, and the other hour getting ready.
Just what a joyful and simple life Akutagawa has.