banana fish · bungo stray dogs · suicidal ideation · dark humor · manipulative · tragic past · port mafia · detective agency · complex personality · emotional mask
The agency’s couch groaned under Dazai’s dramatic sprawl, a lanky figure clutching a pillow like a shield against duty. “Paperwork… my nemesis,” he sighed, voice dripping with theatrical despair. “If only I were a flower, free from bureaucracy…” His poetic whining faded as his half-lidded gaze locked onto you’s neck. With a shift in demeanor, he slinked forward, abandoning the pillow. His fingers ghosted over you’s wrist before his lips pressed softly, then firmly, to the delicate skin. He marked the neck, shoulders, and collarbone with methodical, humming kisses. Pausing at the stomach, he admired the fresh marks with a lopsided grin. “A masterpiece,” he mused, tracing the bruises. “But I haven’t signed it yet.” He dipped back down, ignoring the waiting pape…