To The Stray Dogs
Thread Topic: To The Stray Dogs
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I mean they did have him do french for genshin but that doesn't count its a organizatin or court or whatever
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freaking love ray chase he's so talented
Nuevilette: are you sure this is water?
Fyodor:...yes....
(plot twist its special potato juice) -
"you can't keep me, you lunatic."
I was then plunged into a dark storage room. -
I want to make Kiyoshi express how much he hates dazai over ten times in this fanfic.
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Random
Not sure how I got into this situation, but here I am, running around in a prison with some clown.
I remember the day it happened. I was filling out a mission when suddenly I was kidnapped. I don’t know who they think they are. The great Kiyoshi Dazai is NOT fruit ripe for the picking.
“Kiyoshi, boss wants to see you.” Said a lackey. I groaned in response.
“Crap, that can’t be good…” But nonetheless, I knew my place. I knew my loyalty. As long as I didn’t pose a threat, I didn’t need to worry.
But his abrupt calling for me made me frown. Why the heck did he need to see me? To berate me for not being as good as Osamu? Dammit all, I hate Osamu with every fiber of my ever-beating heart. He betrayed the Port Mafia and yet he was still the most perfect thing that ever happened to the mafia.
I vowed that I was going to surpass the demon prodigy, make them see me as someone other than him, and not just an extension of the annoying nuisance of Osamu.
I can’t stress enough how much I hate Osamu.
If I could, he would have never been in my life. Everything he’s done has changed me, and not in a good way. All his presence does is mess things up for me, ruin my life, hell, he even got me disowned! I would wish the most violent, painful existence on him, emphasis on pain. He really hates pain.
I got in the elevator, suddenly boiling with resolve. If Osamu were here, I’d show him how much I hate him. I would give him hell, make him feel the pain I felt, make it slow and memorable.
The only person who could ever hate Osamu as much as me is Chuuya-sensei, but they’re both a little… special when it comes to their relationship.
As i reached the top floor, i muttered to the assistant, then entered Mori’s office. Mori sat there, fingers tented, Elise on the desk by his side, her yellow hair catching the sunlight that spilled from the wall with windows from ceiling to floor.
Abruptly, the shutters slammed down over the window, blocking out the light. “KIyoshi, i see you came.”
“…I did, you wanted to see me, boss?”
“I did. I have a feeling the agency is getting into trouble”
I sputtered, was he serious? We weren’t responsible for the Agencies affairs!
“What?!”
I was cut off my a stern glare. Alright, maybe we could be a little responsible, I thought.
He tossed the folder to me “investigate this place.”
Tch. Investigating like a dammed pathetic detective.
I took the file anyway.
(CONTINUED WIP)
I woke up in a strange room. Sunlight spilled from the windows. Guards stationed everywhere with masks to cover their faces.
I looked down, tied to a chair, but instead of rope, it seemed to be chainsaw link. Great, just great. Not like this can harm me, obviously. My ability would activate whether I like it or not before my upper half could even be severed.
However, this was quite the predicament. I looked around at the other hostages. Ordinary people, probably more frightened than me. Can’t say I blame them; their lives are irreplaceable and arguably more valuable.
And there he is, that stupid clown. First time I met him.
“Oh boy, the agency will be here soon to witness our great massacre!”
Ah, it’s an elaborate ploy. But why does the agency need to be here? It’s a hostage situation, obviously. But why is it so important that the agency is here?
I could try to escape, but at what cost? They would either activate all the traps and kill everyone or they would shoot him, killing someone else. There was also no guarantee that they wouldn’t stop shooting him, and he had no way of knowing if the bullets would hit a vital spot resulting in a death that wouldn’t even be his.
The scar on his neck stung, reminding him of his past actions, his own selfishness that awakened his ability and killed someone else that didn’t deserve to die, but if the agency was coming, then they would all be saved.
Then it struck me. Damn it all, I did not want to see the agency. Especially not Osamu. I really don’t like Osamu.
Even then, these people seemed to know what they were doing. It wouldn’t ever be a simple rescue mission for the agency. There was more to this, and the agency didn’t know. There was no way for me to send a message or to warn the agency.
I found myself releasing an exasperated sigh before I even knew. Suddenly, the clown turned on his heel in my direction.
“My, my, what do we have here? A hostage that’s not afraid? That simply won’t do.”
He walked up, his visible eye gleaming dangerously with malice, but since I’ve since been desensitized to all feelings of fear, I didn’t have much of a reaction.
But in all truth, his eccentric personality did annoy me; I hated his stupid grin, the way he was so seamlessly happy. I didn’t even catch my frown.
This made him frown in return. “Well, I’ll just make you scared.” And with that, he flourished a knife from underneath his long coat, and just like that, he pressed the cool metal to my throat.
I am considerably more calm than my mentor, but significantly less cocky than my brother, and as a result, I did not give him a reaction. I wasn’t scared, or mad, I had no reaction to give.
He pressed the knife harder. “Come on, say something, little bird.”
More silence.
And with that, he ran the knife against my neck, cutting through the flesh and tearing my throat, filling it with crimson. Even then, I didn’t panic. I let the blood spill, my head didn’t spin, my lungs weren’t drowned in blood.
“Even when you’re dying… could it be… you’re free from all human emotion?” A smile crept up dangerously. “Well, this just got interesting.”
Suddenly, one of the other hostages nearby slumped over, his breathing stopped. He was dead.
“Actually, I’ve grown rather impassive to emotions.” I finally spoke, surprising the stranger. “Just as I am to death.” Just then, the blood that streaked from my neck dried, the bleeding stopped, and the flesh began to mend itself, leaving no scar over the one that was already there.
The clown’s eyes widened. “Truly fascinating indeed, you’re even free from death! That won’t do for our plan. I think I’ll keep you, instead.” He snapped his fingers, and suddenly with a dizzying motion I was out of the chair. “Now, guards, is that man over there dead?”
“It would seem so, sir.”
“Very intriguing! Tell me how you did it, little bird!”
“I’m not some damned bird, you know.”
The man furrowed his brow. “Then what is your name?”
“I shouldn’t be conversing with a terrorist. Chuuya-sensei would be displeased.”
“Terrorist is such a harsh word! But fine, I am Nikolai Gogol! The one and only!”
I narrowed my eyes. “…a foreigner…. That explains everything.”
“Now, now, don’t be so harsh! I think I’ll keep you!”
“You can’t just keep me, you lunatic-“
My protests were cut off as I plunged into a different, dark room.
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Now here I am, in the world’s most secure ability user prison.
On my right, a man named Sigma with a strange appearance.
On my left, a stranger man, Nikolai Gogol.
“Now listen here, my dear assistants!”
“Not your assistant” was the immediate answer that left both me and Sigma
“moving quickly on! We’re about to break Dos-kun and Dazai out of Mersault!”
I choked on air. “I didn’t sign up for this, you can’t be serious!”
I hate him.
Sigma turned white. “Fyodor?!”
“Calm down, it won’t be all bad!”
“This is very bad!” We both said.
“Stop complaining, now, get ready, or guests are on their way!”
And suddenly, Fyodor was in the room, unscathed.
Following him a few seconds later was Osamu.
I suppressed a gag.
He fell from a portal in the ceiling, visibly startled by the development. He fell flat on his face, tumbling back, backside up as his face dragged across the floor. It was a ridiculous sight, almost as ridiculous as him.
In all truth, I hate Os -
lol it cut off
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"how old is Taylor swift?"
"shes like 82" -
shes as old as my mom...
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I lub chapel roan
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I love Kiyoshi he does not give a singular crap
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would you rather drink grape juice or potato juice nd I mean like just straight up juice not the other stuff
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...personally, I would drink the potato juice.
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I don't like how sour grape juice is, sometimes its just gross or tastes like soap. I like raw potatoes, too, so...
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