ChuchuNotes: I know itās been a while since i last wrote anything or stayed active around here. I canāt really say Iām fully back, but on one of those slow, gloomy days, I just felt like writing a sweet little fic like the old times. Also, i gotta admit, the latest chapter of the Stormbringer manga kinda broke my heart šš
Summary: Chuuya stopping by y/nās bar way past closing time on the anniversary of the flags' deaths. Heās more tired, a little drunk, and misses his friendsāand y/n is just there to listen him
Warnings: SPOILER ALERT | Stormbringer Light Novel/Manga Spoilers, side character death, grief, angst, alcohol use
As closing time approached and the young girl dried the glasses she had just washed on the counter, she smiled at the soft, familiar chime of the bell above the door. Considering it was well past midnight on a weekday, she could easily guess who it was without even looking up.
It hadn't been long since she finished putting the chairs up on the tables, but she knew perfectly well that he would always take a seat on one of the bar stools right in front of the counter anyway.
When she finally lifted her head to look at the person walking through the door, she saw that her guess was correct.
Chuuya Nakahara.
Pushing his hat back slightly, he offered the young girl a faint smile, just like he always did, and sat down in his usual corner on the bar stool. He looked exhausted. It was never hard to spot the weariness in his eyes, but today, the sharp light in those beautiful dark eyes had given way to a hazy wave of sorrow.
"Are you still open?" he asked, his voice raspy and a bit rougher than usual. In reality, he knew the bar stayed open late, but he never compromised on his politeness.
Y/n calmly placed the glass in her hand onto the counter and smiled. "Normally, I'm pretty much closed," she said, turning toward him and leaning against the counter. "But I'm always open for you, you know that, Chuuya-san."
Chuuya smiled faintly, but it didn't linger on his lips for long. Today, beneath his usual mysterious and tired demeanor, there was something different.
As a student who had come here from a foreign country for university, Y/n knew very well that no one in this city visited her as often as Chuuya Nakahara, and no one talked to her as sincerely as he did. To be honest, she didn't even know how these midnight conversations had started in the first place.
Chuuya would frequently come to this bar, politely order his usual expensive drinks, and leave after dropping a generous tip. He was different from the filthy drunks or the weeping office workers in the bar. Even though he always carried a mysterious and dark aura around him, he was always genuine and kind to her.
As a foreigner and a young female university student, Y/n was well aware of how difficult it was to both find a job and make friends. Yet, Chuuya had never looked down on her as just a college student, a simple bartender, or a foreigner who struggled quite a bit with Japanese; instead, by having conversations that were both warm yet respectful, he had become her very first friend in this city.
Furthermore, judging by his orders and tips, she guessed he had a pretty good income, but he had never acted superior to the young girl who was struggling just to scrape together rent and pay her tuition.
In this bar, on opposite sides of that counter, they were simply Chuuya and Y/n.
"Good," Chuuya said, unbuttoning his coat. "Because I can't really say I want to drink alone tonight. Will you keep me company, Y/n-chan?"
The young bartender pulled his favorite bottle of high-quality wine from under the counter, placed two glasses beside it, and smirked. "Chuuya-san, you know Iām not much of a drinker. I have no idea how Iād clean this place up after a third glass."
Chuuya laughed softly, a bit more genuinely this time. He pushed the glass toward her and smiled. "Just one glass. I promise, if you pass out, Iāll clean up the place myself."
Y/n laughed at his words, but when she noticed the subtle crack in his voice, she stopped protesting. She could truly feel that he needed someone to drink with tonight. Without waiting any longer, she filled the glasses and sat on the stool next to him. Chuuya placed his hat on the counter and lightly fixed his slightly messy hair. When he gently clinked his glass against hers, the ringing sound echoed through the quiet bar.
He took a deep sip of his wine, his eyes fixed on the dark red liquid inside the glass.
"You've already had a lot to drink, haven't you?" the young girl said softly, studying the faint flush on the young man's cheeks and the hazy, drunken mist in his eyes.
"A little," Chuuya murmured, spinning the stem of his glass with his fingers. "They say you drink to forget... I don't really buy into that. It's a total lie. The more you drink, the more you remember."
"What are you remembering tonight, Chuuya-san?" she asked. She didn't want to cross any lines, but his vulnerable state had awakened a protective instinct inside her. She didn't think a man like him opened up to just anyone easily. But she wanted to be a comfort to his loneliness.
Chuuya let out a deep sigh, his shoulders slumping. "Today... is the death anniversary of my old friends." He didn't give many details; he didn't mention their names or how they passed. He didn't say how many they were, what kind of people they were, or why they died. Yet, as he spoke of them, it was impossible not to feel the love and longing he held for them. He truly missed them.
"Time passes, you know? But that emptiness never gets filled. I miss them so much that sometimes I feel this heavy weight right in the middle of my chest. Itās as if gravity isn't pulling me up, but dragging me entirely inward."
Y/n didn't know what to say. She never had any clear knowledge about Chuuya's line of work. Besides, Chuuya had never told her about his private life anyway. But Y/n knew very well that he was no ordinary person. In fact, according to rumors, she was facing a high-ranking executive of the Port Mafia.
As for Chuuya, he was remembering the Flagsāthe friends Verlaine had taken from him years agoāwith a profound sense of longing. They were the only family he had. He had lost them on the very day he felt them most as a family. He had never been able to tell them that he loved them or how much he cared about them. Even though he had left flowers on their graves and talked to them for years, he desperately wished to see them again. But he knew it was impossible.
With the raw honesty brought on by the alcohol, the young man tilted his head slightly toward the counter, avoiding the young girl's eyes. She had always seen Chuuya Nakahara as strong, unbreakable, and proud. Seeing him this broken for the first time made her heart ache.
Y/n did something neither of them expected; she slowly reached out and placed her hand over his gloved hands resting on the counter. The warmth of her fingers reached him, even through the fabric of his glove.
"Living here, so far away, I also feel like I've left everything behind sometimes," she said in a soft tone. "Longing for someone is something that hurts deep inside, but it's also proof that the love they left behind still lives on within you. The fact that you remember them so deeply, Chuuya-san... shows what a loyal and beautiful heart you have. I'm sure that wherever they are, they are watching you remember them like this, and they know you aren't alone."
Chuuya lifted his head, his hazy eyes locking directly onto Y/n's. There was surprise, gratitude, and an indescribable warmth in his gaze. Turning his hand over, he caught her hand and gently squeezed the hand resting on his.
"You..." he said, his voice barely a whisper. "I don't know how you do it. But when I come here, when I talk to you... that weight lifts, even if just a little."
"I'm just here," Y/n said with a smile. "And whenever you want, I'll be here to listen to you, Chuuya-san."
Chuuya gave her hand a gentle squeeze, then raised his glass once more. "Then... to those who are gone. And to the beautiful foreigner who didn't leave me alone tonight."
Their glasses clinked once more, this time in a warmer silence.
Announced today that in 2027 we will get new High&Low content.
Culmination of the series' 10-year history and the dawn of a "new world".
Looks like it will be in the form of at least one movie, yet the announcement said "series". Present during the live were Akira, Naoto and Kazuma, so it's safe to assume that their characters will return.
It will also be interesting to see whether they they'll include any of the revelations from the stage shows.
hai ! im not here to ask you a question. iām just here to say that YOUR WRITING AND FICS ARE SOO SOO BEAUTIFUL, THEYāRE DELICIOUS !!
i saw the hate comment, and i just want you to know that someone stills support you ! lovelotss š«¶š»š«¶š»
Awww š My life is a disaster rn and Im really struggling with everything. I have an important exam a few months later and if I can be successful I think sometimes writing fics again. My english was worse than now those days and Im not very proud of my fics dhjejdjd But they were my own writings and I made many friends here.
Thank you for your kind words, it really means a lot for me. Im really happy you enjoyed reading them! You made my day! Love you sweetpie ššš
synopsis.: chuuya doesnāt understand why you turn to self-harm every time you feel like youāre at your lowest, but heāll do anything to make sure youāre okay afterward
pairing.: chuuya nakahara x gn!reader
cw.: sfw, established relationship, heavy trigger warning !! ā¢ explicit self-harm, kinda angsty, hurt / comfort, fluff at the end, mentioning of dazai osamu, sort of suggestive themes
wc.: 1.9k
Ū¶ą§ note.: YAYAYA happy belated birthday to my love!! i actually wanted to post this on his birthday exactly, but i only now found the time to correct everything (had a busy week) so yeah :(( BUT AT LEAST ITāS ONLY THREE DAYS LATE GUYS AND NOT A MONTH (be proud of me please) anyway, hope you enjoy!!
he wasnāt supposed to see this. he wasnāt supposed to find you like thisāso utterly broken and messed up.
but then again, itās chuuya. itās his apartment. and itās definitely not his fault that you didnāt check your messages. no, this is your own fault for turning off your phone.
so how could you have known? that heād be back from the mission early? that heād stay extra quiet to not disturb you just in case you were sleeping on his side of the bed as usual when heād be late?
you could have. if you had just looked at your damn phone. then he wouldnāt have had to find you like thisāsitting on the ground, leaning against the frame of the bed, totally out of it and fucking miserable.
your body is trembling, fresh blood stains the ends of your sleeves as it trickles down your wrists, drenching the white fabric into a deep crimson color.
heās at your side before your mind can even register him entering the room, kneeling down in front of you. his eyes are practically flooded with concern and a tinge of frustration.
he knows about your struggles, sort of. even though you never explicitly told him anything, he isnāt blind.
āyou idiotā¦ what did you do?ā chuuya whispers softly as he presses a tender kiss to your forehead.
you briefly close your eyes at the contact of his lips against your feverish skin, mumbling something inaudibly. perhaps an apology or just his nameāhe isnāt quite sure.
the blood loss isnāt severe. heās seen worse, way worse. yet, you still look like youāre about to faint. itās probably the adrenaline wearing off, leaving your body in a state of pure exhaustion.
chuuya gently picks you up, being careful not to accidentally brush against any of the deep cuts on your wrists. you whimper anyway.
your body relaxes ever so slightly in his arms, the familiar grip and scent soothing you, just a bit. he carries you toward the bathroom, gingerly helping you settle on the edge of the bathtub.
he makes sure youāre steady, holding you for just a while longer, giving you another kiss on the top of your head. you lean against him, burying your face in his side to shield your eyes from the stinging brightness.
chuuya lets go of you eventually, though, as the pungent smell of copper invades his nose. he grabs a first aid kit and a fresh cloth, which he wets at the sink before returning to you.
he kneels down in front of you again, gently taking your hands in his and squeezing them reassuringly. you canāt bear to look him in the eyes, feeling ashamed as you almost withdraw your hands.
chuuya doesnāt let go, though. instead, he only holds your hands tighter, frowning at the fact that you donāt feel comfortable letting him take care of you. then again, he canāt blame you. he doesnāt burden you with his worries either.
he turns your arms over, revealing your soft skin marred with deep cuts and slashes. they look like you used one of his blades he keeps lying around for safety purposes.
you lower your head, turning more inward as guilt washes over you. āiām sorryā¦ā you whisper, your voice rough as you swallow thickly.
chuuya doesnāt respond. instead, he takes the wet cloth and dabs at the edges of the cuts you made. you flinch as the rough material grazes your wounds.
he has half a mind to keep everything sharp locked away in the future, and half a mind to never leave your side again. however, he knows both of these options would never work out and would probably make you feel even more uncomfortable around him.
maybe even less like a human but more like an object he wants to protectāand thatās something chuuya would never want to make someone feel, especially not you. for all that, he knows what itās like to not feel human. to constantly question your own thoughts and feelings, to deal with a sick mind.
he doesnāt understand your pain, not truly anyway. but he relates to it on a level only he can. he just canāt relate to your utterly stupid and awful coping mechanisms. this simply isnāt his cup of tea, and it unfortunately reminds him of another troubled soul.
sometimes he wonders if heās enough for you. enough for you to cling to your life and keep holding on. in the end, he wasnāt enough for dazai, who keeps craving something more fulfilling and meaningful to his life, even though there probably never will be anything that fills his void.
and chuuya is just so fucking scared that you need that too. that he canāt fill the void youāre so desperately trying to fill.
you glance at chuuya, his quiet and thoughtful demeanor sending another wave of panic through you. is he thinking of leaving you? of never wanting to see or speak to you again?
you know youāre disgusting. you know you can be a lot, especially in these moments. you know youāre difficult to handle. and while chuuya has never in his life expressed even an amount of distaste towards you, you wouldnāt be surprised if he just pretended all along. and you wouldnāt blame him either.
chuuya notices your underlying panic. he can practically feel it from how tense and nervous you look, and he hates that heās probably the one making you feel like this.
āhold still,ā he mumbles, still dabbing away at your cuts. once he decides they look clean enough and all the dried scraps of blood are gone, he applies a thin layer of petroleum jelly around your cuts to keep the area moist.
his movements are tender against your irritated skin, but despite how gentle he is, you still feel a burning sensation whenever he gets too close to a cut.
applying the ointment is sort of tedious and takes chuuya some time. enough time for you to stare at his face and imagine the most gruesome breakup you can think of.
you donāt even realize that heās already laying out gauze on your wounds and securing it by wrapping bandages somewhat tightly around your wrists.
eventually, chuuya looks up at you with a serious expression before standing up fully again. he stands between your legs and strokes your hair affectionately, pulling you closer against him.
you briefly close your eyes, enjoying the warmth his body radiates. ācome on, letās get you to bed,ā chuuya says, picking you up in his arms again. you let him without protest.
he makes sure not to step on any of the medical treatments he left out in the open. heāll take care of it tomorrow, as well as the bloodstain you left behind on the carpet in his bedroom.
he carefully sets you on top of the bed, your shirt riding up just a little. you donāt mind, though. chuuya looks down at you, his gaze lingering on your bloody sleeves. he walks to the closet and grabs one of his own shirts.
āarms up,ā he demands, and you follow through with his request. he takes off your shirt, looking you over just in case you hurt yourself anywhere else. when he doesnāt find any more cuts, he dresses you in his shirt, wiping away your dried tears with the end of his own sleeves.
you simply gaze at him with half-lidded eyes, pulling him closer by his waist. your thumbs begin to trace circles through his clothes, and chuuya regards you with a small chuckle. āwhat are you doing?ā
ānothing,ā you answer after a long moment of silence, your hands moving down and along his belt. you tug at it hesitantly, almost testing the waters.
youāre aware this isnāt exactly the best moment to ask for intimacy, especially this kind of intimacy. after all, you definitely donāt look or feel your best right now.
but all of this can be pushed aside. you just wantāno, needāthis kind of reassurance from him. you need to know he isnāt disgusted by you or mortified by your self-destructiveness.
chuuyaās smile drops as soon as he realizes what youāre asking him for, and he gently takes your hands in his, stopping you from going any further. āweāre not doing this. not tonight,ā he says calmly but firmly, pressing a tender kiss to your forehead.
your breath hitches at that, and you look away, feeling just a bit humiliated and pensive at his polite rejection. āis it becauseā¦ you donāt find me attractive anymore?ā you ask quietly, a sense of insecurity washing over you.
you bring your arms closer to your stomach, trying to hide them. you suddenly grow more aware of your surroundings, of what you did, and how much pain you must have inflicted on him.
of course heās not going to want to sleep with you after that. god, how can you be so foolish? āsorry, that was a stupid question,ā you mutter, your voice even quieter than before.
chuuya sits down beside you at that, looking at you with a heavy heart, unsure of what to do. he knows words are useless here and not his strong suit anyway, so he does what makes the most sense to him.
reluctantly, he leans in, stopping just a moment away from your face to think this through again. āfuck itā¦ā he murmurs, exhaling shakily before tilting your head to face him. he rests his hand against your cheek, his thumb grazing the thin skin under your eye as he gently presses his lips against yours.
youāre startled for a moment but instantly return the kiss, practically melting into him. eventually, he brushes your hair out of the way with the hand thatās resting on your face and drags his lips lower.
he begins to plant light kisses along your sensitive skin, his other hand slowly slipping beneath your shirt. itās warm against your skin, but doesnāt move any further.
ānothing youād do could ever make me not want you, sweetheart,ā chuuya whispers against your throat before moving to press his forehead against yours, your breaths mingling. if he could, he would take you right then and there. but he knows that would be unfair and wrong on so many levels.
ābut you donāt want this, at least not right now,ā he says reassuringly as he pulls away. ābesides, youāre too tired anyway. youād fall asleep before we even get to the good part.ā he laughs softly, the thought of you falling asleep during sex amusing him. it wouldnāt be the first time.
a small smile graces your lips as well, and you bury your head in the crook of his neck. you wrap your arms around him, and he does the same, tracing soothing circles against your back.
ātell you what, if you still feel like this first thing in the morning after a good night full of sleep, iāll gladly scratch that itch,ā he mumbles, making your cheeks heat up.
you just nod and hum in response, your lips grazing his neck ever so slightly. it tickles him just a little. āi love you, chuuya,ā you say, your voice laced with deep affection and adoration.
āi love you, too,ā chuuya says faintly, tightening his grip around you, and you know he wonāt let you go for the rest of the night.
note.: i am actually trying to slowly get back into my writing and i feel like itās working! might even get into a writerās rut hihi but yeah- question, how are we guys feeling about some criminal minds content??? maybe in the future
Love and Shame: One Night Standš š18+
Love and Shame: Two Linesš š„°
Love and Shame: Fall and Riseš š„°
Love and Shame: The BirthĀ š„°
Love and Shame: Family Strugglesš„°
Love and Shame: Fifteenš š18+
Love and Shame:Through The Nightš„°š
Love and Shame: Days Of Our Livesš„°š18+
Love and Shame:The Great Day Has Comeš„°š
Love and Shame: Daily Adminstrationsš„°
Love and Shame: A Hard Journeyš š„°
Love and Shame: New ChallengesĀ š„°
Love and Shame: Boyhoodš š„°
Love and Shame: The Future Stands In Front Of UsĀ š š„°
Okay, I need help š There was a Chuuya x reader fic. The reader was from PM in the past and now she was a member of ADA. They were getting together after years and had kids too. It was a beautiful fic and had several chapters:/ I canāt remember the name of fic or the blog but it was on Tumblr. And one of their kidsās name was something like Aki ? DOES ANYONE KNOW WHAT THIS FICāS NAME WAS ???
Hello everyone, I havenāt been active for a while, and what I saw the moment I logged inā¦ wasnāt very pleasant :d So I want to reply to those two messages here.
As someone who has been receiving treatment for depression and OCD for a long time and has struggled with suicidal thoughts, I want to give this warning. Yes, maybe I wonāt kill myself today because of your rude comments, and maybe I wonāt take them too seriously. But there are more sensitive and kind souls here who might take them to heart, who might get hurt, and you could ruin someoneās life.
Donāt let the cruelty in your heart destroy the lives of the good people here.
If you want to be awful, fuck off and go be awful somewhere else.
I am not a sexist or misogynist person, and I donāt think I ever was. On the contrary, Iām very aware when it comes to feminism now. But not everything I wrote is recent, theyāre things from the past. I left them here without deleting anything for the people who enjoy reading, and I left this account exactly as it was. Of course, Iām not claiming everything I wrote is feminist either ā I can make mistakes too.
But please donāt forget they are fiction.
If I still hurt anyone, Iām sorry, that was never my intention.
If I write again, I want to create more careful and feminist characters. But I also might not write again ā because this is fiction and imagination. Writing a certain type of character doesnāt mean I support that thing in real life.
And no, Iām not deleting my old works. Social media is not that important to me.
And to the other anonymous personā¦
Of course you may not like what I write. You may even think itās trash. You may not like me. I respect that. Itās completely normal. Iām not claiming that I am Dostoyevsky. I donāt even think Iām a good writer. I just wrote to have fun and to enjoy things with many fandoms here, and I love them.
But telling someone to kill themselves is seriously pathetic :d
Get up from your computer and go live a real life.
If you are doing cyberbullying because just you can, and hiding behind the anonymous thing, youāre just a coward. Donāt forget that.
So, will I write again? I donāt know.
Sometimes I miss being here, but I donāt have enough energy to write fics lately. Iām rereading Stormbringer these days ā maybe Iāll come back with a Chuuya fic, but I canāt promise anything.
Today, Itagaki Mizuki updated his insta story and his family said that he passed awayā¦ I justā¦ dont know what to say. I love him so much and I hope he rest in peace šš» Like he always said, love and peace š«¶š»
