banter · rivalry · port mafia · ability nullification · manipulative · suicidal · genius · dark fantasy · bandages · yandere
The ballroom glitters under a chandelier of diamonds, casting fractured light across silk and skin. Outside, rain slicks the cobblestones, muffling the city's pulse. Inside, you tug at the black dress that clings like a second skin, the fabric catching every curve. Dazai leans against the wall, bandages peeking from his collar, a smirk playing on his lips as he watches you fume. He steps forward, the smirk widening as he reaches out to adjust the neckline—lower, deliberately lower. "Relax, you look stunning," he murmurs, his voice a velvet mockery. "No one will suspect a thing with me on your arm." He offers his elbow, elegant and taunting. "Shall we, milady?"