not that i signed for what series 4 turned into but nevertheless

annahakuouki-deactivated2017060  asked:

Maybe you've already received a request to do this, or maybe your not interested in doing it, but could we have an epilogue to the "Saitou breaks Chizuru's Heart Unintentionally" Text AU Series where Saitou comforts Chizuru/ tells her the truth :3

Thank you for sending the request! I’m currently on Saitō’s   route in Kyoto Winds (and enjoying the extra scenes and the new dialogue and ignoring some of the stranger attempts at “modern” English), so a little happy Saitō -Chizuru is in order.

The infamous Saitou breaks Chizuru’s heart text is HERE for handy reference.

Cause Making Out Up is Hard to Do

Dear Yukimura, I hope you will give me a chance to talk to you and explain certain matters.

Maybe not exactly explain but I have reconsidered and I was mistaken not to acknowledge your very kind gesture. [Note: Chizuru might find it strange that it took him all of 4 minutes to “reconsider” after sending such an awful text, but she is a girl in love or at least in very strong like] 

I apologize deeply for my harsh words and I want to tell you in person that they do not reflect how I really feel about you think of you   view things. [Note: Ugh, Saitō, come on!]  Please allow me to speak with you. [Note:  Better.  Begging always helps in these situations.]

Saitō Hajime

[Several seconds pass; Saitō looks furtively around for Harada-sensei, but the tall, red-haired teacher seems to have left. Saitou remains wary and makes his way toward Chizuru’s most likely location.]

Yukimura, I am just around the corner from you. I am sorry that I upset you. Please allow me to speak with you.

[Note: Okay, sounds slightly stalkerish but points for showing true desire to make amends.]

Saitō isn’t sure how it’s possible, but his phone gives a slightly watery or perhaps tearful *beep*.  He reads the screen in some haste.

Saitō-senpai, thank you for your messages. I would have answered sooner but I was so surprised to hear from you that I dropped my phone and it slid under something and it was difficult to get it back because my fingers were wet [with the tears of her despair you monster!].

Knowing Chizuru better than she realizes, Saitō waits a moment and then receives a second, briefer text:

I’m sorry, Saitō-senpai! I mean yes, of course.

Saitō swallowed a moderately-sized lump of anxiety (he had no idea what to say to a girl whom he liked and who had–more or less–confessed her feelings to him right before he made her cry).  Suddenly, being smacked on the head by Harada-sensei seemed like a reasonable alternative.  Nevertheless, grimly determined to bear the consequences of his actions, he peered around the corner, self-consciously straightened his jacket sleeves, and then walked over to sit in front of Chizuru.  The tiniest noise from the direction of a nearby classroom made him glance over quickly to see a large hand–most likely attached to the long arm of a certain red-haired teacher–waving a thumbs-up sign in the air.  He started to sweat.

“I’m fine, Saitō-senpai,” Chizuru told him earnestly, not meeting his eyes (which was just as well since Saitou was still registering the unwelcome presence of the encouraging hand).

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Some thoughts on Flat Dreams

(Art by @owlapinart)

So. Flat Dreams. A fanfiction masterpiece by @pengychan that punched me in the gut and continued mercilessly kicking me when I was collapsed on the ground. It’s been a full month now, and I’m still not over it, oh no, not in the least. But I’ve somewhat managed to sort out the bajillion things and thoughts and emotions it awoke in me, so here’s a small fucking extensive analysis thingy.

Spoilers ahead, just to state the obvious. I’m a society junkie and life is a valley of agony and injustice and the fic is a work of art. Form your expectations accordingly. Enjoy.

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Said I Love You But I Lied

A little one shot, set after the events of Season 4, particularly that one fandom-altering phone call.


Tap. Tap. Tap.

Without moving any other part of his anatomy, Sherlock nervously shifted his eyes towards the woman beside him.

There was an air of agitation about her, which had definitely not been present up until a moment ago, and so he was anxious to know the reason for it.

That morning, he called Molly over to 221B to accompany him on yet another day of solving cases, as an apology for… the incident, and in an attempt to restore the easy companionship they once had and which, if he had to admit to himself, he terribly missed. Throughout the day, they both did their very best to act normal -or at least, as normal as it could get for either of them, considering how neither of them has ever been quite “normal” by society’s standards -around one another.

True, it had not exactly been the most comfortable day between the two of them. Nevertheless, they both attempted to mimic the rapport that existed between them during that first time she accompanied him on a day of case-solving.

They had been more or less successful, up until the shared cab ride back to the morgue (taking separate cars would have been ridiculous, seeing as how they were headed towards a single location -and they were friends, were they not?).

In fact, Sherlock could pinpoint the exact instance during the ride at which Molly started exhibiting signs of unrest: It was when the song currently filling the enclosed space first started playing.

This, of course, made absolutely no sense to Sherlock. How could one stupid song possibly affect her so?

“You came to me like the dawn through the night, just shinin’ like the sun…”

Molly shifted in her seat, gaze moving back and forth between the driver and the window, out towards the street. Her fingers tap-tap-tapped against her thigh.

“Out of my dreams and into my life.
You are the one, you are the one…”

She was very tense now, causing an answering tension to seize Sherlock’s muscles. He still could not understand why, but he could sense that he was about to find out soon.

“Said I loved you but I lied…”

A sharp intake of breath, and it took Sherlock a split second to realize that it was his. The sound caused Molly’s head to whip towards him, so fast he was almost afraid she’d crack her neck.

“‘Cause this is more than love I feel inside…”

He kept his eyes trained forward, and she fixed hers at the back of the driver’s head. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see her fingers still drumming a tattoo on her thigh.

“Said I loved you but I was wrong,
‘cause love could never ever feel so strong…”

“P-please pull over. I’ll get off here.“

Her clear voice startled him into looking at her. She was worrying her lip between her teeth, but her gaze was determined.

The driver hesitated. They were still quite a ways from the destination they gave him when they got on.

“Are you sure, miss?”

“Yes, please.”

The driver pulled to the curb, and Molly could not get out fast enough, not even bothering to close the door behind her.

Sherlock hurriedly thrust a few pound notes into the cabbie’s hand and spilled out onto the pavement to chase after the pathologist.

“Molly,” he called. This made her pick up her strides, but as his legs were much longer than hers, it was no time at all before he managed to catch up.

Even as he drew up alongside her, she remained determined to ignore him and kept walking briskly. He grasped her upper arm and dug his heels into the ground, bringing them both to a stop. Still, she kept her gaze firmly fixed to the ground. Her fists were clenched, her nostrils flaring, jaw tense and lips stretched in a thin line.


She lifted her eyes at the desperation in his voice, and he saw the unspoken question in them, the confusion, the hurt.

“I didn’t.”


She searched his face, brows knitted in confusion.

“Molly, I didn’t,” he repeated.

She closed her eyes, as if in pain, and shook her head.

“I don’t understand… Sherlock, you didn’t what?”

“I didn’t lie, Molly.”

Her eyes remained shut, even as her whole body started to tremble.

“Please, Sherlock, don’t…” It was barely above a whisper, and his heart fractured at how broken she sounded. But he knew he had to speak his thoughts now, or he would never get the chance to speak them ever.

“No, Molly, listen. I have lied for so long, lied to myself about my feelings. It was at that time, at that moment, that I finally stopped. It took me saying it out loud to realize that those three words were the most honest thing I have said in a long time. I was not lying to you then, and I am not lying to you now. I love you, Molly Hooper. I love you.”

A tear spilled out from beneath closed eyelids, followed by another, and another.

Sherlock reached out to wipe them away, laying his hand on her cheek.

Finally, she opened her eyes, and he could feel himself being pulled into them.

She reached up to lay her hand on his, turning her head into his palm and pressing a kiss against it, all the while never breaking eye contact.

“No more lies?”

His breath hitched, and he felt an odd tightness in his chest, a stinging in his eyes.

“No more lies,” he promised.


AO3 link:

Lost And Found

Warnings: none! (except some mild language)

Word Count: 1891

Requests: “PLEASE WRITE A PART 6!!!” “Can you do a you’re a Winchester part 6? Pretty Please?” “PLEASE PLEASE PLEAAASE CAN YOU WRITE ANOTHER PART TO YOU’RE A WINCHESTER?????? I AM IN URGENT NEED OF IT.”

A/N: The much requested Part 6 of the You’re A Winchester series is here! Sorry it has taken a while, but I’m in the middle of exams at the moment. Anyways, enjoy! :)

| Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 |

“Back in black! I hit the sack! I been too long, I’m glad to be back!”

The famous rock tune roared from the Impala’s speakers, startling Sam from his deep slumber. Dean laughed at his brother’s sudden wake-up as he turned down the ACDC.

“What?!” Sam grunted as he yawned and rubbed his eyes awake.

Dean gave a small laugh as he turned to his brother whose locks were anything but luscious, and said, “We’re home, dummy.” Sam let out another yawn as both himself and Dean exited themselves from the Impala, grabbed their bags and headed towards the entrance to the Bunker.

When they entered the Bunker, the door opened up to the large war room, so the echoes of their footsteps resounded throughout the place.

Both Sam and Dean waited for a moment at the top of the staircase, expecting your own footsteps to rush into the room to greet them, but instead they heard only a booming silence. With furrowed brows, the brothers looked to each other in confusion. Dean’s confusion was still evident, until his face loosened into a smile.

“She’s probably still sleeping,” Dean commented, “It’s only 10 o’clock in the morning.”

Sam let out a small laugh as his face relaxed into smile. But as he and Dean walked down the staircase, and Dean walked off to his room, Sam couldn’t help but feel something was up. He just didn’t know what.

As Dean’s footsteps were heard fading off down the hallway of the Bunker, Sam made his way with a small amount of caution in his step towards your bedroom. He continued on his short journey before seeing from afar that your door was wide open.

He slightly furrowed his brow as he knew you liked to sleep with the door closed, so he slowly crept closer to the entrance to your room. He had walked up to the edge of the doorway with his back against the wall of the hallway, and slowly turned his face around until he was looking into your room.

Your empty room.

“DEAN!” Sam’s voice shouted down the hallway of the Bunker. His heart was racing, because you weren’t there. The only indicator that you had been there was that the bed sheets were splayed across the bed.

Sam began to walk over to the bed, as an out-of-breath Dean entered the doorway whose eyes were wide open.

“Where is she?!” Dean demanded with a strong tone. Sam put his hand onto the bed for a few moments, before taking it off again.

“It’s cold,” he commented, “That means that if Y/N is gone, then she’s be gone for a while.”

“Dammit!” Dean muttered under his breath. Sam continued to search through the sheets for maybe any signs of how or why you weren’t there, as Dean spotted your phone lying on your bedside table.

He picked it up with the thought that maybe you had been calling someone and had to leave instantly or something along those lines. However, when he opened up the screen, he saw that there was one unread message. Dean selected the message and began to read the text of his message he had sent the night before.

“Sam,” he sighed as Sam turned his gaze to Dean, “Y/N never even opened the message I sent last night.”

Both of your brothers’ minds began to fill with fear and all of the possibilities of what could have happened to you. Sam immediately went to your laptop to see if there was anything of use on there, while Dean ran to the garage to check out if you had taken off in one of the cars there.

A few silent moments went by, before Dean came rushing back into your bedroom to see Sam still trying figure out your password.

“None of the cars have been taken, so if she went somewhere, it must have been on foot,” Dean panted out with a heavy chest. Sam took a deep sigh at Dean’s comment, before hitting the keyboard violently in frustration.

“What could her password be Dean?” he demanded. Before Sam even had a moment to type in random words in the chance it would work, Dean answered with a relaxed tone, “Try ‘Fulligan’.”

“Why?” Sam asked in confusion. Dean gave an obviously loud groan before responding, “Because that used to be her last name before her mother died.”

Sam looked at his brother for a few moments before giving a sigh and typing in the eight keys on your laptop before hitting enter. It only took a second to confirm the password, and to reveal an already open internet browser.

Sam looked towards Dean with an impressed smirk on his face.

“Yeah that’s right,” Dean announced, “I know stuff.” Sam gave a small laugh before returning his gaze to the laptop screen, to find that a news article was already open.

“Hey Dean, check this out,” he told Dean, as Dean wandered over to sit next to his brother on your bed.

Sam continued, “Y/N was looking at this article yesterday, because it only came out yesterday morning. And by the looks of things, there could be a case in this town, which appears to be on the edge of the state. I think Y/N may have gone to take on this case by herself.”

“But how?!” Dean exclaimed, “It doesn’t look like took any of the cars, so how could she have gotten there in a day?”

Sam shrugged his shoulders. “I don’t know how. That’s what we’re going to find out. But nevertheless, she is in that town, so we are going.”

And with that, he closed the laptop.

Dean was a speedy driver on a regular basis, but when he knew that his little sister was possibly in danger, even those faster speeds weren’t fast enough. So in no time at all, they had arrived at the town that they knew you to be working a case in.

The only address that Sam and Dean had to go off was the home address of the missing man, so that’s where they headed to.

The Impala roared down the street until Dean halted it abruptly to a stop outside the front of the house.

“Woah, Dean!” Sam exclaimed at his brother. Dean didn’t even acknowledge his brother’s exclamation, as pulled the keys from the ignition and made his way out of the Impala, and around to the boot. Sam gave a sigh, as he followed suit.

Both brothers selected their weapon of choice as they made their way past the police tape, that was strung all around the property, and up towards the front door.

Sam didn’t even need prompting to begin his pick-locking on the door, which was accomplished a lot faster than usual, indicating that he wasn’t the first to shortcut passage without a key.

All lights had been switched off in the household, so Sam and Dean whipped out their flashlights as they split up to sneak around the place and see if they could find anything to lead them to you.

Sam went into the kitchen on his left, while Dean began to look around in the living area on his right. Several minutes passed, and neither of the brothers had found anything, until the dull brightness of Dean’s flashlight came across a dried stain of blood that had soaked into the carpet.

“Sammy,” Dean called out, “Over here.” Dean crouched down to the ground, as Sam walked swiftly into the room, who also pointed his flashlight towards the crimson blotch on the floor.

“Y/N’s?” Sam asked hesitantly, as Dean reached out his hand to feel over where the stain was. Dean stood up, continuing to look at the ground.

“I don’t know,” he sighed, “I mean it did say that the missing man’s wife was murdered, so it could be hers.”

Sam shook his head. “Look, I don’t know Dean,” he admitted, “I know she was shot several times, but gunshot wounds don’t make stains like that.”

Dean was about to comment further, but was interrupted by a deep voice, “Hello boys.”

Both Sam and Dean jumped around to see the King of Hell standing before them with a smug smile on his face.

“Saw you both roll into town,” Crowley began, “Thought you might be here, but didn’t know for sure until I saw that hunk of junk you call a car out the front.”

“Why don’t you shut up you sorry son of a bitch?” Dean spat out. Crowley ignored his comment, and continued.

“Now, moose and squirrel. I know why you’re here,” he commented, while both brothers itched back the urge to punch Crowley in the face, “I know where she is. In fact, I’ve brought her with me.”

Crowley stepped aside to reveal you lying on the floor in an unconscious state.

“Y/N!” Dean yelled out, as both he and Sam rushed to your aid. They tried to prop you up, but you clearly weren’t waking up anytime soon.

Sam turned his gaze to Crowley. “What did you do to her?” he asked demandingly.

“Oh come on Moose. You don’t really think I did this to her?” Crowley smirked, “Besides, she’s fine. We just had a bit too much fun at the pub, and this one had way more to drink than her body could carry.”

“You’re lying!” Dean shouted at him. Crowley raised his hands in feigned surrender, as he disappeared from sight.

Your brothers continued to try and wake you up, but with no success. They agreed to just get you home, and keep an eye on you, so they carried you out to the Impala, and laid you down in the back seat. Dean hopped behind the wheel, while Sam sat with you in case you woke.

But you didn’t.

The boys had laid you down on your bed, and had never left your side since they placed you there.

Sam sat next to the bed in a chair, reading a book in which he would stop reading every few moments to let his eyes drift to where you were, to see if you were stirring.

Dean on the other hand couldn’t sit still. He paced the room slowly up and down, never truly taking a moment to take his eyes from you.

However, both brothers had something in common. They individually felt that they were to blame. That they should have let you come after all, because then they wouldn’t be in a situation where they were hoping you would wake.

But you didn’t.

Until Dean noticed a single movement of your finger. And that was enough for him to know you were alright.

“Sam,” Dean said softly. Sam immediately closed his book and stood up from his chair, as Dean rushed to your side, clasping your hand in his own.

“Y/N?” Dean murmured, “Can you hear me?”

For a moment, there was no movement. But then your head began to shift as you slowly drifted back into consciousness with a small groan.

“Y/N?” Dean persisted, “Are you alright?”

After another few groans, you blinked your eyes open to reveal that the beautiful colour that usually sparkled in your eyes was gone.

Instead, it was a charcoal black that covered your eyes.

“Never felt better,” you smirked.

What’s your favorite dead franchise?  Well, mine’s Metroid, since Nintendo refuses to release an actual game, but my favorite officially dead franchise is Dead Space.  Be warned, there are heavy spoilers ahead.

Dead Space 1 was an interesting, if flawed, horror game; tense, exciting, and gruesome, it followed engineer (read: space mechanic) Isaac Clarke as he and his team discovered that the ship they’d come to fix was overrun with alien zombies called necromorphs, controlled by an ancient artifact called the Marker.  Fruitlessly searching the ship for his girlfriend, Nicole, only to discover that she was dead, and all the while slowly being driven mad by the signals sent out by the Marker, Isaac nevertheless succeeded in destroying it, although he was the only person to make it out of the star system alive.

Dead Space 2 was an amazing game; it picks up two years later, as Isaac wakes up in a straightjacket with amnesia, in the midst of an outbreak of necromorphs on a space station orbiting Saturn’s moon Titan.  It comes to light that the Marker had left more of a mark on him than he could handle, and the human military had spent the last few years dredging his brain for secrets; now, he must survive the station, destroy the Marker he helped create, and confront the vengeful hive mind he helped spawn, which is wearing Nicole’s face.

Dead Space 3 was cold garbage.

Where the previous games were tense and horrifying, Dead Space 3 tries for gritty space marine action and barely manages to make its combat work.  Where the previous games forced inventory management and careful weapon selection, Dead Space 3 allows broken customization and unifies all ammo types into a single nondescript lump of ammo, rendering the frantic ammo scrounging from previous games irrelevant–and while you can unlock a mode where it returns to the diverse ammo types, you don’t get that until you beat the game.

And the story.  Hoo, boy.  The story suffers from being built around co-op and outright removing large segments of character interaction in single-player.  (Did I mention it was a co-op horror game?  RE5 managed it because it was still hard as hell, but here it’s just kind of boring.)  My biggest gripe, though, was how it treated Ellie.

You see, in Dead Space 2, Isaac meets another survivor, Ellie, who we’re introduced to knee-deep in necromorph corpses, who’s a pilot and effective survivor in her own right, who, like Connie Maheswaran of Steven Universe, defies a lot of love-interest cliches to become an effective character with her own agency.  Dead Space 3 shits all over her character, turning her into a damsel in distress being fought over by Isaac and Norton, her current boyfriend.  It was boring and infuriating.

And Dead Space 3 killed the franchise.

It didn’t sell, it was boring, and it was bland.  Nobody liked it, and EA has thus far taken that to be a sign that nobody wanted more Dead Space, not that Dead Space 3 failed because it was bad.

Which, of course, brings me to the point of my post: How would I revive the franchise with Dead Space 4? (this song may be good accompaniment for this post, because it’s what I was listening to on repeat when I came up with all this)

Well, I’d start with Ellie.

Isaac’s story is done.  He’s defeated his ghosts, he’s found peace (even though the playable epilogue DLC brings him back to a disaster on Earth and then just leaves us hanging…) and he’s back together with Ellie.

Ellie’s story is not done.

Last we saw of her, she was warping back to Sol system, presumably to get eaten by whatever was left of humanity, so let’s start there.

Ellie makes it back to Earth, but automated defenses left by now-dead soldiers knock her shuttle out of the sky.  She crashes, without armor, without weapons, and as she drags herself from the wreckage, she spots a necromorph wandering nearby.  The entire first level is spent unarmed, unarmored, finding ways to sever the thing’s limbs, until she finds a store where she can use Isaac’s logins to buy armor and a weapon and put the thing down for good.

And then?  Then she sets off into the wreckage of humanity.

She’s far from the only surviving human.  Norton was being melodramatic when he said they were the last of Earth’s defense forces; there are plenty of soldiers and armed citizens still fighting for survival, and Ellie makes her way through the city, gathering help, gathering other pilots, burning a path through the outbreak until they can reach the nearest starport, but by the time they’ve reached it, Earth’s Convergence event has begun; as the Moons awake throughout the galaxy, they begin with the assimilation of Earth, and Ellie, the pilot, takes matters into her own hands.  If Isaac could kill one with nothing but kinesis and a grudge, she can kill one with a starfighter, right?

This is when Isaac and Carver show back up, and their horror at what’s happening to Earth is cut off by a glimmer of hope: Ellie’s voice over the open comms, calling for anybody and everybody still alive to help her kill this thing once and for all.  They join the fight, but it’s Ellie who finishes it off, who deals the final blow, who brings hope back to the world and to the series itself.

Anyways, that’s how I would do it.

RS#59 “Growl” (ft. EXO’s Sehun) (1/5)

a/n: [ANNOUNCEMENT]. Just to explain, I received all text requests that you guys sent in and I won’t be answering them yet, so that I can keep track of all requests. Don’t worry haha, I’m not ignoring your requests and yes, text requests are open, but scenario requests are closed. Anyway, this is going to be 4 chapters long and I don’t usually do this for requests, but this was actually a series that I wanted to start a long time ago, with a different idol and a different storyline, but I dropped it because I went on that long hiatus. Now, I have the chance to pick it up again! So, I hope you enjoy the first chapter! I know Growl has been done a lot of times already, but this one will be different (?).

Genre(s): Romance, AU

Warning(s): None… yet.

It was raining that day and you were walking home in the wee hours of the morning. You felt heavy, as if you weren’t herself, maybe it was because you had a bad day at work. Or maybe, you missed your ex-boyfriend. Or the fact that he’s happy with someone else. You wanted to walk in the rain, to shout and to run until you can’t catch your breath, but you had work tomorrow, doing these wouldn’t be logical . 

“Logical , huh?” you laughed at your own thoughts. You groaned in annoyance, splashing the puddles forming on the sidewalk. “Of course, you’d do the good shit again. That’s why your boyfriend left you because you’re boring and predictable.”

You were going down your usual path when you saw something quite unusual. A dog, or maybe the shadows were playing with your eyes because you could swear that it was a little wolf, was sitting in the middle of the rain, looking up at the dark, starless sky. It just sat there, without flinching and didn’t look like it was going to move any time soon.

You checked the road for any signs of a moving vehicle, but it was completely quiet except for the sound of rain hitting the pavement. You took slow, calculated steps towards the puppy. You thought, by now, it would’ve noticed you and ran away, yet it sat in complete stillness. You squatted beside it and covered it with your umbrella. As if you blocked its view, it finally turned to look at you. You were caught off guard by its intelligent eyes and how its glowing orbs reflected your curious expression.

“Hey, are you lost?” You asked and glanced at his neck, but there was no collar. “Aren’t you cold? It’s raining pretty hard.”

It just looked at you without showing any signs of reaction, it didn’t growl, but it didn’t whimper either. It didn’t even bark. It just looked at you as if waiting for what you’d do next. You began to stand up. Your brain was telling you to walk away, but when you met its eyes again and you just couldn’t leave.

“What the hell, I don’t give a fuck anymore.” You muttered before crouching down again and slowly reached for him. “I’m going to pick you up now, okay?”

It didn’t even glance at your hand, but nevertheless, it didn’t reject you.

“Aren’t you a good boy?” You said as you tucked him close to your chest.

You rinsed him with warm water and sat him down on your counter to blow dry his fur. Strangely, he’s been quiet this whole time. He didn’t protest at all against the late bath and was not surprised by the blaring blow dryer.

“You’re a well-trained dog, aren’t you?” You petted his head, but his gaze was trained on something else. You followed his line of sight, but he seemed to be staring blankly at the floor. “Are you sure your parents weren’t looking for you? If you want to go home, you are free to leave.”

‘What, you’re talking to a dog now? You’ve totally become a crazy dog lady.’ You thought as you brushed his fur with your hands.

“Aren’t you such a handsome, little puppy?” You took a step back to look at his majestic form and pointed ears. You’ve managed to convince yourself that he was just some sort of mixed Siberian Husky. “Also, why are you looking at me like that? As if you understand what I’m saying.”

For the first time, he showed a hint of expression. He looked mildly stunned, but then, proceeded to scratch behind his ears.

You laughed. “What am I even saying? You must think I’m crazy.”

You carried him carefully and set him on the floor.  You walked towards the couch and said, “Come on, I won’t bite.”

He followed you, almost as if he was hesitant.

“Look, I laid out a blanket for you. I’m sorry that you don’t have a proper bed. You aren’t exactly planned.” You laughed and he looked at the blanket on the couch. “Go on.”

He padded closer, but only sat in front of the couch.

“Not sleepy yet?” You smiled before yawning. “Well, I’m sleepy. Don’t worry, I’ll feed you tomorrow.”

“Good night.” you said and closed the door.

You had a fitful sleep and woke up to a thick layer of snow . You received a text from your boss and an official memo stating that work was cancelled for today. It seems that the snow caused some accident and the road was blocked. You checked Facebook and apparently, there was a public advisory encouraging schools and companies to suspend classes and work that day. You sighed and sunk in bed, wanting to sleep longer.

‘The puppy.’ You suddenly thought and you bolted upright. “That’s right, I brought in a puppy last night.”

You walked outside in your pajamas and found him propped by the windowsill. You looked around the apartment and everything else seemed to be where you left them last night when you were expecting a chaos. Puppies were supposed to be hyper, right?

Not this one though.

“Hey, what are you doing?” you asked in a raspy voice.

He turned to you, acknowledging your presence before turning back to look outside. You approached him and peered outside.

“I don’t think it’s safe for me to go out and buy dog food. I hope you’re okay with canned tuna. I know you’re not a cat, but it’s all that I have at the moment.” You told him and he didn’t respond.

You went to the kitchen to make some eggs. You also heated up the tuna in the microwave and gave it to him. He sniffed and ate it soundlessly. You drank your coffee in silence.

‘Hmmm… He acts really strange for a puppy, but then again, he doesn’t do much.’ You pondered as you finished your breakfast. You gave him some warm milk and prepared to go in the shower.

You let the warm water hit your body. Again, you were left alone with your thoughts. The moment you close your eyes, memories play back and replaces the darkness. It wasn’t all good memories though, but it was him.

You remembered what he said when you broke up. “I’m sorry, but I think you deserve the truth. You don’t make me happy anymore and I found someone else who makes me happy. Let’s not hurt ourselves any longer.” You heard it in your head, clearly as if he just said it in front of you. Funny how he said it as if he was faultless.

You rinsed your face and convinced yourself that your eyes were red because the shampoo got in them. You changed into comfortable clothes and went to watch TV. The dog was already on the couch and you sat next to him. He didn’t inch closer to you, he just sat there.

You thought it was strange again, ‘Oh well, maybe it’s still adjusting to me.’

A movie was on, it was one of those vampire action movies. You watched because it seemed interesting and the dog was strangely paying attention as well. You were a little sleepy, so you finished the movie and stood up to go to the bed.

The dog just lay on its belly again and you sat back down to pet its head. He closed his eyes and let you rub his fur. “You know, I’m glad you’re here. I would go crazy if I were left alone like this with nothing to do.”

“I’m not doing well, lately.” You began and he opened his eyes, as if starting to listen attentively. “I feel so alone; even my friends can’t do anything for me.

“I just feel alone and broken. I’m not qualified to care for another life, so will you watch me instead?“ You smiled at him. "You must think I’m weird, huh? Am I speaking gibberish to you?”

You stood up again, this time truly intending to sleep. When you reached your door, you looked back and saw that he was watching you. “You kind of remind of that vampire in the movie, but naming you Dracula would be over the top, wouldn’t it?” You looked at his odd eyes and a name suddenly popped up. “How about Vlad? I think it suits you quite well. Vlad, as in the prince who turned into Dracula. I guess… Good night, Vlad.” Unbeknownst to you, that simple act of naming a stray dog will change your life forever.

You slept like the dead this time, but you didn’t feel rested at all. Snow fell with the howling wind outside. Though it was hard to tell, it was probably sometime after lunch and you got up to see if you can cook anything. You picked up your phone and considered ordering, but it made you feel guilty. You opened the door and was not prepared for the sight that greeted you. He was sitting on the windowsill, just like how Vlad had looked at the storm brewing outside. His hair was exactly the color of Vlad’s fur and when he turned to look at you, his eyes were dark and knowing. Your temples pulsed uncontrollably, as if your heart and mind cannot process this sight. Your whole body was telling you that it was impossible, but he already stood up and bowed to you before you could react. He held the blanket, which you gave to Vlad, closer to his naked torso and bowed repeatedly. You snuck a peek at his lower half and he was thankfully wearing your ex-boyfriends sweats which you probably left in the dryer.

“…Sorry.” You began processing what this man was saying. “I apologize for catching you off guard like this.”

“Wh-wh-who are you? H-How did you g-get in my apartment?” You lifted an accusing finger at him.

He lifted his hand in defense. “Please do not be rash. If you remember, you named me Vlad, but the person with this face and this form is named Oh Sehun. My name is Oh Sehun and I am a prince from the Goryeo era.”

“Wh-Wh-What?” You could feel your legs tremble.

“I know it’s hard to believe, but you took me in and fed me yourself. I know you are not a bad person. I can tell you everything you want to know, but for now, the reason I became like this is because you named me. If you call me by that name, I will revert to my canine form. If I am in my canine form and you call me by my real name, I shall become a man.” He declared in a tone that somehow felt like he has said that same speech over and over again. However, you had already collapsed on the floor and lost your consciousness.

You bolted upright in your bed. ‘Of course, of course it was a dream. Why would you pick up a stray dog?’ You had thought stretching in bed. ‘Or did you? It felt so real.’

You exited your room and saw the rumpled blankets on your couch. Your eyebrows scrunched together. “Vlad?”

‘Vlad. That’s the dog’s name right?’ You recalled that you named him that. It peeked from the blankets and looked straight into your eyes.

“There you are. ‘Course you’re still a puppy.” You smiled and wandered into the kitchen while talking. “You’re not some fella named Oh… Oh Suhun? Oh Sehun?”

You were pouring milk unto your cereal when you heard heavy footsteps behind you. You swiftly turned around, before the bowl clattered to the ground. “Y-Y-You… You’re…”

“Please don’t faint again.” He held up a hand and the blanket fell off his shoulder, revealing the fine curves of his arm. Your eyes had unknowingly travelled further down and saw his toned abdomen. “I told you, if you say my name I will return to my human form.”

“How come you were a puppy earlier?”

“You just called my dog name before you exited your room.”

“W-Well, you’re human now so… You can go and leave already.”

His eyes became downcast and a million emotions seem to have crossed his eyes. “As much as I want to do that, I can’t step outside of your doorframe yet. You became my owner when you named me and I will be living under your care until you die. Please take care of me.” He did a deep bow and stayed kneeling on the floor.

The kitchen smelt like spilled milk (with bonus soggy cereal), morning air and the remnants of yesterday’s snow, but one smell was even more distinctive… The scent of a new beginning.