MADE 4 YOU ... ft. haruchiyo sanzu
menhera (メンヘラ): a person (typically a woman – we're going gn!reader here though) with a mental health disorder, especially that associated with borderline personality disorder
genre: MDNI, dark content. unhealthy relationship, drug use (sanzu), implied self-injury, smut. NOT meant to be a romanticization of mental illness, take it how you will. my credentials? certified in bpd diagnosis 😛 please heed warnings!
sanzu with a menhera! reader, who he's managed to convinced is nothing without him. the highs are so high that every disagreement, every misunderstanding, becomes miniscule. you'll forget about the broken promises, the sleepless nights, the countless diary entries you've written reminding yourself not to crawl back to him. you'll forgive him– you'll forgive him over and over again as long as he tells you he loves you because at least all that pain had meaning.
kindness is a virtue, you think, and sanzu agrees. that's what makes you so perfect, he says. that's why you're made just for him, and him for you.
sanzu with a menhera! reader, who is wrapped around his finger. no one's ever cared as much for sanzu as you have. in fact, you love him more than yourself, and though you've never once touched his pills, it feels as you're experienced the effects of every substance he's ever tried– feels like you’re hooked on them yourself, really. or maybe you’re just hooked on him, and that’s why you suffer through his withdrawls, bear the brunt of his mood swings. you endure his tantrums– the uttered insults, the vicious names that cut deeper than anything else ever could. really, it's fine, though. you've learned his patterns all too well– you've memorized them, and you know just how to take him on. you know how to prove your pain to him. you've learned how to catch his eye, so to speak.
sanzu with a menhera! reader, with a body that’s an empty shell in bed. maybe that's how you've always been– a vessel. still, the feeling of his cock pumping inside you is the only time you really feel alive. that's when you feel him– all of him– warm blood, flesh, and all. that hot breath in your ear, his sandpaper voice calling out your name, your souls collapsing with each thrust like tidal waves crashing against the shore. you're human. it feels like love, you think... love…– right.
© LILBACHI 2026. dividers by v6que.
