hello! you’re currently visiting kodzumaru’s profile! welcome ╰(´︶`)╯*virtual hugs*
links:
- caught in the middle (dazai x reader; comfort TW)
- cinnamon (dazai x reader, fluff)
- crystal clear (dazai x reader: comfort/angst TW)
- decode (chuuya x reader; TW)
- for every darkened part of me (soukoku, dazai x chuuya; TW)
requests are open! i’m not into writing nsfw as much as i like reading it, though i might write some one day. i’m just an affection-starved human craving for fluff and comfort (⁄ ⁄>⁄ ▽ ⁄ <⁄ ⁄) i’m mostly into writing dazai and chuuya from bungou stray dogs right now. PLEASE beware of the trigger warnings when you read something i’ve written. please be safe♡
about me:
i go by まるちゃん(maru-chan) on here, just ‘maru’ is fine!
my pronouns are she/they and my mbti is infp! i’m 18! ♐︎ ♑︎ ♏︎ (♡˙︶˙♡)
we can chat and become friends if you’d like, i believe i’m a very open-minded person, i promise i don’t bite! (o˘◡˘o) we can play some animal crossing together :)
to the person who wrote my first and only request, i read you and i'm very honored!!! i'm just on vacation rn and don't currently have the time to write, but i'll be back soon, hopefully fulfilling your req <3
+ second version that gives off I different vibe than the first one, which I accidentally did when moving the layers but I like it a lot (also press the drawing for better quality)
"have i ever told you how pretty you look with your hair tucked behind your ear?" chuuya wonders, running his fingers through his partner’s soft locks. dazai can only attempt (and fail) to hide his blushing cheeks, as chuuya’s familiar hands move lower to cup the brunette’s face and admire its pink color.
chuuya's skin was ripped open by corruption, blood flowing and dripping out of his mouth and nostrils. despite the macabre scene, dazai could only stand there speechless and dumbfounded, as chuuya's lips curved into a smirk and opened to let out a loud laugh.
"how beautiful," dazai thought. he was brought back to reality when he realized a human being probably shouldn't lose as much blood as chuuya was. dazai finally moved to nullify chuuya's ability and give his wildly fast beating heart a break, with a gentle touch on the latter's neck.
dazai chose not to process his thoughts while he allowed chuuya's exhausted and worn out body to rest and sleep on his lap. all he could think of was how stunningly gorgeous his partner was, but he would never say it aloud, not in anyone's presence. especially not chuuya's.
“i don’t really remember what hugs are like,” dazai mumbles absentmindedly, fidgeting with the book in his hands. chuuya sighs, sitting down next to his partner, “is this your twisted way of asking for one?”
dazai scoffed. “of course not, ew, why would i have a slug hug me-”
his words were cut off by chuuya’s arms embracing him and pulling him close, offering warmth to dazai’s cold body, who silently accepted and relished in the comfort, betraying its owner.
hi everyone! here’s some angsty soukoku for you! i really love these two, i can’t get enough of them.
trigger warning: depressive thoughts, mentions of self-harm and dazai-typical suicide thoughts and attempts
a sudden crash was heard in the apartment, coming from the kitchen. alerted by the sound, chuuya quickly got up from his bed and headed outside of his room, ready to beat up whoever broke into his home interrupted his sleep.
he wasn’t surprised to see dazai, but he didn’t expect to see the man standing in an awkward position, a broken glass at his feet, and tears pooling in his dark reddish eyes.
before dazai could purposefully step on the sharp material, chuuya had already moved to clean up the mess. “don’t move,” he instructed, he was not in the mood to take care of any cuts and wounds under dazai’s feet. the latter leaned on the kitchen counter, patiently staying out of chuuya’s way to avoid making him mad, or at least making him angrier than he already was.
“what’s going on?” chuuya asked with a sigh, grabbing two new glasses from the cabinet and filling it with water for dazai, wine for himself. he didn’t trust dazai to drink alcohol when he was in such a state: his prominent eye bags and red puffy eyes signaled the man wasn’t having a particularly happy and carefree night. chuuya had learnt how to read his ex-partner, and he had grown used to his frequent suicide attempts.
“i’m fine.” dazai scoffed, yet looking away from chuuya's piercing gaze, trying to read him. his voice sounded rough.
when dazai shrugged, chuuya clicked his tongue and figured it was going to be a difficult conversation, and dazai was going to be quite stubborn in keeping his problems bottled up in his own mind.
“you don’t look fine to me.” chuuya sipped on his wine.
“then stop looking.” dazai was quick to answer, almost cutting chuuya off before he could finish his sentence. the taller man gripped on the sleeves of his trench coat, pulling them over his wrists. chuuya also noticed dazai wasn't wearing bandages around his neck. that's when chuuya understood.
"you were going to kill yourself tonight," he commented, only then noticing the painfully red blood stains on dazai's pale white bandages. "you didn't call." chuuya observed as dazai's muscles tensed up.
what upset chuuya the most was exactly the fact that dazai could've died, and he wouldn't have known: before every attempt, dazai always texted chuuya. it didn't matter if it was a heartfelt or a silly, goofy text. what mattered is that dazai always took the time to let chuuya know.
dazai’s mind felt like static, before he broke out in quiet sobs, without really knowing nor understanding the specific reason why he loosened his guard.
"this was one of your serious tries, wasn't it?" chuuya wondered. it was the only possible answer: dazai had attempted suicide and didn't want to be saved. how bad must his mind have become? how much must he have suffered to reach this point? these were all questions swimming through chuuya's head, without a break.
because his head was so occupied, he didn't have the time to think about his actions, so he pulled dazai into a hug without a second thought, who melted immediately in the familiar embrace.
“your hands are so soft and tiny” dazai observed, tracing chuuya’s palms and fingers with his much bigger hand. he curled a finger under chuuya’s gloves to take them off and adore his partner’s flawless skin. chuuya couldn’t help the faint blush rising in his cheeks at dazai’s gentle touch, as if he were handling frail glass.
hi! today i offer you your (short ╥﹏╥ ) daily dose of chuuya x reader! sorry this is so brief, i wish i could write about these matters without having a breakdown everytime. hope you enjoy (o´▽`o)
nakahara chuuya x gender neutral reader who has a relapse
trigger warning: graphic descriptions of self-harm, depressive thoughts
"darling? are you okay over there?" chuuya asked, gently patting your head through the bed covers you were buried in. he was expecting you wouldn't be alright, but out of all possible reasons varying from your stressful job to your troubled relationship with your family, he was not expecting you to have relapsed.
you had always been very honest with chuuya, so once you two moved in to live together and your relationship got more and more serious, you decided to tell him about your past with mental illness and unhealthy coping mechanisms.
chuuya was not one to judge, he'd suffered a lot himself, and he was one to bury himself in alcohol abuse in his darkest nights. he dared to say he understood how you felt, at least in the slightest.
so when you poked your head out of your blanket fort, bloodshot eyes and dry tears, he was quick to silence your sobs with soft kisses starting from your forehead, to your eyelids, the tip of your nose, your cheeks, and finally, your lips. he repeated the sequence along with sweet words of comfort, hoping that whatever was going on in your pretty little head would leave it alone soon.
"i'm sorry," you choked out, and while you didn't want to make your boyfriend worry, you also didn't want to be alone. for once you didn't care if it made you selfish, you chose to live up to the promise chuuya made you swear.
"tell me if things get hard. don't bottle it all up until it becomes unbearable. talk to me."
you didn't respect that promise, so you apologized. you had bottled things up, and as chuuya had predicted, life became unbearable. it was difficult to get up in the morning when the bed was such an inviting shield from the outside world. you called off last minute any meeting outside of your job, and your efficiency and performance diminished in quality as you struggled with brain fog and memory loss.
so when you sat up in bed with chuuya kneeling down in front of you, he didn't think you would roll up your sleeves and show him the fresh, still red scars covering your forearms. he wasn’t really disappointed, he was just sad that it had to happen to you. he thoroughly examined the cuts before tracing them with a light touch, before looking back up to you. “is this all?”
you shook your head, pointing to the top of your thighs. “i promise i don’t need stitches.” you defended yourself, like a child being scolded. or maybe you said it because you wanted to convince yourself you didn’t deserve stitches. either way, chuuya chose to trust you and didn’t examine further.
“let’s spend some time together then, i’ll call tomorrow off.” he announced, pulling you in a soft embrace. you wrapped your limbs around him, and he chuckled as he effortlessly picked you up and brought you inside of the bathroom, preparing a nice night of bath bombs and movie marathon with snacks on the living room couch. he hoped he’d manage to make life more acceptable for you, even if for a single minute, or a single night.
“i’ve been looking everywhere for that shirt,” dazai said, pointing at chuuya and trying to accuse him of theft. the first few buttons were undone, and the sleeves ran loose on the shorter man’s arms, covering over half of his palms.
chuuya smiled, knowing the effect he had on dazai, “are you trying to say that you want it back?”
‘no,’ dazai thought, but shook his head before he could voice the silly admission that chuuya looked absolutely adorable in his clothes. out of defense, dazai refused to admit how attractive his partner was. “no, chuuya,” he started, “i’m just saying that it’s really not your color.”
“huh?” chuuya barked, the veins on his forehead popping out as he glared at dazai. he proceeded to unbutton the rest of the shirt, but before he could take it off, dazai stopped him.
“wait,” dazai said, signaling chuuya to wait by raising his finger. he then opened the wardrobe and threw another pair of his shirts to chuuya, who just observed his actions with a confused frown. “wear these instead.”
there was really nothing wrong with the color of the shirt chuuya was wearing, but there was also no way dazai was going to admit how good he looked. all dazai knew was that he’d do anything for chuuya to keep wearing his clothes.
hello! (ﾉ´ヮ`)ﾉ*: ･ﾟhere’s some other sad stuff inspired by music! this one comes from hayley williams’s song ‘crystal clear’! i included lyrics this time (￣▽￣)
"i don't wanna shut you out" he said, and he really meant it: dazai’s intentions were never to hide things from you, he just didn’t want to be the source of your worries, he didn’t want to be a burden for you to bear, you already had enough problems troubling you on your own. dazai didn’t think his problems mattered enough to share them.
he was lying limp in your arms on the couch, exhausted and devastated, so much that he allowed himself to be weak and off guard in front of you, who encouraged him to voice his troubles and fight them together.
dazai’s suicide attempts happened on a weekly, sometimes daily, basis. it happened so frequently that no one took them seriously anymore. he figured it was better this way, that he had the freedom to feel how close to death he could stand. but you did not agree. what would you have done if he managed to succeed one day?
the fact that everyone around dazai stopped looking for him once he suddenly dissappeared to throw himself into a river only worried you to death even more. you had begged his colleagues to take the matter seriously, and contact you if they noticed your boyfriend wandering off to only god knows where.
you made dazai promise to text you whenever he would feel the pressure of his mental illness weight down on him and crush his bones, as if he were drowning at the bottom of the ocean.
you took every attempt seriously, but you weren’t sure you could trust dazai. in fact, he hadn’t told you about his latest attempt yet.
"i remember standing on the edge, closing my eyes, counting to three." he confessed, narrating his attempt. his feet were dangerously close to the edge of the bridge, his nails digging crescent moons into his palm as he firmly held the fence behind him.
"i jumped in with the rush of my head only to find the water was concrete.” he remembered the impact, the ice cold water rushing through his clothes and violently caressing his skin, the sand made his more recent scars itch and burn. he swam toward the bottom while being dragged by the flow of the current. you gulped at his words, hitting you like daggers.
a few hours earlier than this conversation, dazai had arrived home soaked and shaking due to the cold. without any further questions, you prepared the bathtub with warm water for him, carefully removed his clothes, and only with his consent you took off his bandages. you didn’t trust him alone in the tub, so you stayed by his side until he stopped shaking and his grip on your hand softened.
then, you prepared a new set of comfortable clothes for him and prepared pillows and blankets on the couch for the difficult conversation you were bound to have.
“but no matter how deep i go, into you it looks like the water is crystal clear." he said, hugging you just a little tighter. “you’re truly the one i get up for every day.” his hands cupped your face and he left a kiss on the tip of your nose, as a silent thank you for being the one to pump the air to his lungs when he felt like drowning.
"i don't know how this will end," dazai bit his lip, not hiding his fear and concern of ending his life without you.
"let's hope it won't have to." you answered. “let’s hope it’s the last time.”
