Bungo Stray Dogs Fanart Novels & Stories

The third had decided to be a bit bolder with a black wig, lips and eye shadow. “Good afternoon.” He didn’t flash his badge, yet, not wanting to scare them off too quickly. “I was wondering if I might have a moment of your time.” “Fifty dollars,” the Goth one informed him, her voice cool. He pulled back his jacket to reveal his shield and the girls gave each other a look that suggested they were considering taking off. He continued to smile, anyway. “None of you is in trouble. I heard there’s an establishment stealing your customers and I was hoping to help.”

The sound of their heavy breathing filled the air. I smirked coldly at their entangled bodies and pressed "save" on the recording, thinking, "James Fullman, enjoy the calm before the storm."

Instead, I stand my ground, shifting my grip on the bowl until my fingers ache with the effort of not trembling. “If you’re worried about contamination,” I say, “maybe don’t breathe.” It’s a cheap shot, but it lands. His face goes red, then settles into a look that says he’s already decided how I’ll pay for it later. He leans in, so close I smell the morning’s coffee and the faint, metallic tang of blood on his breath. “Don’t test me, Stray,” he whispers. “You won’t like the answer.” I stare him down, not blinking. The wolf in me wants to bare its own teeth, but I clamp down, show nothing but boredom.