Tw: Death - Blog Posts

I just made myself sad.

Was thinking about Klepmer from Danny Phantom and how he just wanted a friend and how familiar his pyjama's were. Not because they're typical cartoon pyjama's, no.

He reminds me of the movie "The boy in the Striped Pyjama's" as well as the pyjama's themselves when I saw them at the holocaust museum. (I know they're blue but dp liked inverting and altering colors)

Klemper could have easily been a disabled child victim of concentration camps during the holocaust and froze to death in winter. He could have died looking for a friend because of being lonely. So many families were separated from each other. I can just imagine him looking for a friend alone in the cold with nothing but his stripped pyjama's. His last words being "Will you be my friend?" To either a hallucination of a person in his last waking moments, or his killer before he was shot.

This got so dark so fast.

"Curiosity Killed My Beia" A comic I did for The Spinoff's Comic of the Month

Cleaning Out The Refridgerator

Izuku never knew a life without his mother. It was always Inko and Izuku against the world. Izuku never once met his father Hisashi and he couldn’t bring himself to care.

Inko was everything Izuku needed and without her being at the forefront of his life, he’d never become the person he was. It was all thanks to his mother.

Inko died at the age of sixty. It was out of the blue and she had died of a heart attack. Izuku was only thirty-five. The day he got the call his mother had died was the worst day of his life.

His hero work kept him busy and he rarely got days off. Whenever Izuku managed to get the time, he’d always have dinner dates with his mother. It was clear Inko had appreciated those little moments together.

They’d cook together, catch up on life, and just cuddle for hours. They felt like the time they shared always slipped away and those moments felt so short even if they spent the whole day together.

Izuku and Katsuki got married at the young age of 20. They didn’t want to waste a moment and desired to experience all life had to offer.

When they were sixteen, they watched the other die. They knew how fragile and short life could be. Death was promised and they wanted to enjoy the life they had left.

Holidays and celebrations were always a grand event. Inko and Mitsuki would often hang out together, but having their family members join them for a party was an exhilarating experience. Every day, every moment, was lived to the fullest.

Izuku could say there was so much more he wished he could have experienced with his mother, but he was satisfied with the time he did have with his mother.

It didn’t make things any better, but having no regrets was something that made Izuku grieve his loss without any guilt laced with it. Izuku could miss the amazing woman Inko was and miss his perfect mother.

For months, Izuku was inconsolable. Katsuki did everything in his power to help Izuku through Inko’s death, but he couldn’t imagine the pain Izuku was going through. Katsuki loved Inko dearly, but he didn’t know what it was like to lose his mother. Katsuki didn’t even want to imagine a life without Mitsuki.

It was a random Friday when Mitsuki had invited Izuku over to have some tea and talk. It was nice to just talk to someone who cherished Inko just as much.

Mitsuki was crying, hugging Izuku. “I ran out of her pickled daikon radish! I don’t know what to do!”

Izuku paused, feeling something click in his mind. Even if Inko was no longer with him, there was something she did that no random person in the world could mimic. Inko’s cooking and baking were inimitable. The only person on the planet who could make Inko’s recipe was Izuku.

Izuku pulled back, his hands resting on Mitsuki’s shoulders. “I’ll make you some!”

Mitsuki’s eyes widen, blinking away her tears in surprise. “Really? You’d do that for me?”

“Yes, I’d love to make it for you,” reassured Izuku, his face filled with an excitement he hadn’t felt in a long time.

Mitsuki seemed to melt, relief flooding her. “Thank you, Izuku. I can’t wait to taste it!”

Izuku grinned, quickly hugging Mitsuki again. “You won’t be able to tell I made it, trust me.”

The next day rolled around and a beautiful Saturday greeted Izuku. Izuku threw himself up and took over the kitchen. The windows were opened and the morning breeze lulled Izuku into a peaceful rhythm.

The sunlight warmed his skin, matching the warmth his heart felt while making the same food Inko happily prepared him when he was a child.

Katsuki walked over and instantly spotted the mess. Shaking his head with a small smile, Katuski made his way over. Wrapping his arms around Izuku’s waist, Katsuki pressed a tender kiss to Izuku’s temple. “What are you getting into?”

“Just cleaning out the fridge,” fibbed Izuku, knowing Katsuki wasn’t going to buy it.

“Sure and I’m not your husband,” remarked Katsuki, giving Izuku a gentle squeeze.

Izuku sat down the knife before turning around to hug Katsuki. “I’m making some pickled radish for your mother.”

Katsuki paused before a look of recognition crossed his face. “She’s probably over the moon knowing you can keep supplying her addiction. She’s obsessed with Inko’s pickled food for as long as I remember.”

“Yeah, I can’t believe I was so depressed I forgot that I can remake all the foods my mom made by heart,” chuckled Izuku, snuggling into Katsuki’s secure hold.

“Anything I can do to help?” questioned Katsuki, knowing the answer was going to be no, but he wanted to check anyway.

Izuku shook his head before pecking Katsuki on the lips. “Nope. This is quick and easy to make.”

Katsuki nodded before releasing Izuku. “I’ll leave you to it.”

Within thirty minutes, Katsuki heard a loud thumping in the kitchen. Rushing out, Katsuki watched as Izuku jumped in place, filled with excitement as he was chewing. Katsuki sank in relief upon witnessing the childlike joy written in Izuku’s expression and bouncing.

Izuku spotted Katsuki staring and quickly shoved the pickled radish into Katsuki’s mouth. Katsuki immediately could tell why Izuku was so excited. The crunchy yellow radish tasted exactly like the kind he had eaten his entire life. It was identical to Inko’s.

Izuku knew that if he kept making food that tasted identical to his mother’s, he’d never stop eating. If food was how he planned to keep his mother alive, he’d happily eat each meal like it would be his last.

“Good job, Izuku. It’s perfect,” complimented Katsuki, diving in for more.

“It’s so wonderful,” cried Izuku, following his husband's lead and eating more.

Inko may be gone, but for the rest of Izuku’s life, he’d never have to live a day without her beautiful, one-of-a-kind meals. Inko showed her love through food and Izuku would forever be grateful that homemade meals will forever be their thing. Even after death.

Is aizawa still himself? Is he still permitted to teach at the school?

Hmm, no

Aizawa still considers himself a human being and conducts classes, he is too dangerous for others, which is why the director of Nezu arranged for him a "fake class" in which Aizawa is being held.

Aizawa realizes that his body is changing, but he doesn't want to believe it. It was before the incident "M.E.D.U.Z.A."

The "M.E.D.U.Z.A" incident occurred in the evening. After all the students had finished classes, Aizawa climbed into the ventilation and watched two students from class A-1 and B-1.

After that, the bodies of Monoma Neito and Mina Ashido were found in the ventilation with signs of suffocation and wounds similar to paper cuts.

SPOILERS!!! (for both MHA and Alice in Borderland)

I’m not one for crossovers BUT i desperately wanna write a oneshot where BKDK dies how Heiya (Akane) and Aguni do in Alice in Borderland. Except in a romantic way instead of it being a friendship.

Heiya, a teenage girl who was a complete bitch and acknowledged it and DIDN’T change.

Katsuki, a teenage boy who was a complete bitch and acknowledged it and DIDN’T change (until later on obviously).

She got thrown into Borderland and had to survive hell physically.

He was suffering with a quiet inferiority complex - surviving hell mentally.

She knew she was a bad person and thought she was paying for her mistakes in boiling death.

Katsuki believed he was a bad person in UA, in my opinion. He knew he’d never be as good as Izuku and would never be able to catch up. His admiration turned into jealousy and rage in middle school. I think him throwing himself into Izuku so Shigaraki would stab him instead was him attempting to start atoning for his mistakes and for bullying Izuku and starting to show he does care for him, yet even after he still didn’t believe he was worthy of Izuku’s forgiveness because of his overgrown inferiority complex. He also blamed himself for All Might’s death because he was insecure.

Heiya lost her leg, barely escaping death.

Katsuki sacrificed himself twice to prove himself, still thinking he wasn’t good enough after.

Her leg became infected and needed medical attention - a doctor promised her it in exchange for her body. She didn’t want to die and accepted.

This one is not a comparison to Heiya getting raped. It is a comparison to needing medical attention and im making that clear now. They were ‘in dire need’ of Katsuki’s firepower on the battlefield, Best Jeanist had said. Upon seeing Katsuki crying on the battle field, injured, Best Jeanist came up to him and told him “let me stitch you up” and “we can handle the rest ourselves”. Katsuki ignored it and was muttering Shigaraki’s patterns/ how to attack even while injured. Best Jeanist was shocked at how he was still fighting. Before Katsuki attacked he said, “use your first aid on the others” as if it would BE WASTED ON HIM and attacked shigaraki while bleeding out. 💔💔💔💔

Just like Heiya, he did what he had to do to achieve what he wanted. Their resilience is unmatchable.

Heiya had been shot all along her spine and in multiple other places. Yet she still, in the end, dragged herself to be by Aguni’s side. I think it really portrayed their amazing bond. In the similar way when Katsuki sacrificed himself, his final thoughts and memories were of Izuku and wanting to catch up to him.

Heiya bringing herself to Aguni when she, in reality, should have been dead, showed her extreme will to live. And despite the fact that Katsuki sacrificed himself to save people and win, him saying that he’d “break” himself shows his ambition and perseverance in the same manner i think.

Heiya and Aguni worked together (with the others obviously) to stop the King of Spades and alone in the forest in the same way Katsuki and Izuku work together (with the rest of the heroes obviously) to stop Shigaraki and AFO. Katsuki and Izuku also have a good fighting dynamic (e.g. the Heroes Rising Movie AND SO MUCH MORE.) and so do Aguni and Heiya (they survived the woods together).

I only have one kind of parallel for Izuku and Aguni as they are very different.

Aguni cared so much about his best friend he executed hundreds of people. He hated how corrupted the beach made Takeru (The Hatter) and blamed everyone there; it was wrong to kill all those people yet he did it anyway. He felt guilty for it, of course, but he still operated it.

IMO, Izuku is feral over Katsuki. He saw Katsuki’s dead body and blackwhip basically started choking himself from how much emotion he was feeling. He lost control when he saw Katsuki hurt in the same way Aguni lost his sense of self when he was pushed to/ felt guilt for killing Takeru. I feel like Izuku would definitely kill for Katsuki; going against his own morals. I don’t believe anything would’ve pushed Aguni to murder someone if it wasn’t for the fact it changed or hurt someone he loved, he was a caring person on the inside. This one isn’t talking about how Aguni and Heiya’s friendship but it’s a good comparison between Izuku and Aguni. Even with their opposite personalities.

There are definitely more severe differences than similarities. A lot of the parallels i made were definitely a reach but honestly idc i just think it’d be good angst and would probably write it even if Heiya and Aguni had killed each other (which they wouldn’t but still - it’s a really good death scene is my point).

Anyway a lot of these parallels are really lame, make no sense, probably shouldn’t have been made because one definitely outweighs the other. but idc but it’s fun!!!

fish guts

[pt/ fish guts /end pt]

you have the eyes of a fish

cold and dead and strong

you have the eyes of a fish

where did I go wrong?

you have the eyes of a fish

helpless yet unafraid

you have the eyes of a fish

so every day I pray.

Not An Update

I don't think I'm going to be updating Demigods of Valyria any time soon.

Yesterday, April 23rd, I had to put my cat, Xena, down because she was suffering from absent seizures and if I had brought her home she would have died in pain and I couldn't do that to my baby. I miss her.

When she was 6 months old we rescued her because she had severe wobbly cat syndrome so she couldn't walk. My parents let me keep her even though we were originally going to give her to a kennel that could take of her.

For 2 years she has been my baby, my princess, my pretty girl, my everything and now shes gone. Ive been suicidal for years and for the past 2 shes been one of the few things I lived for.

I'm tired. I can barely think of her name without sobbing, i cant look at my other cats without just collapsing because I miss her so much.

I miss how when I talked she'd respond. I dont have any recordings of her voice.

I couldnt sleep in my own bed last night because she always slept with me and I cant stand being in my room because it hurts so much.

I'm sorry.

An angsty pandoras vault idea I’ve had for a while... warning for death and general suffering

Fun fact about lava and volcanic eruptions in general, the most dangerous part is usually the gases released! Volcanoes are actually huge pollutants due to how much carbon dioxide is released. A number of websites warn about being in low lying areas around lava, due to that CO2 and other gases gathering, and leading to suffocation. (Link)

Many peoples version of c!sam depicts him wearing a gas mask, right? Would creeper hybrids even need the same air as humans/whatever c!dream is? The same goes for c!Bad and c!sapnap, often shown as a demon and blaze hybrid respectively. The headcanon doesn’t work quite as well with c!quackity. But what if c!sam doesn’t lend him just his pick axe, but his gas mask as well?

A pandoras vault that never lets c!dream take a full breath of air. The moment he respawns, he begins suffocating once again. His cell is a death trap.

Maybe c!sam learns the total allotment of air available, and times his visitors so that no one will notice the punishment that c!dream endures.

C!techno is often shown as a piglin or piglin hybrid. He grew up next to the lava lakes of the nether. His body is designed for these conditions. The torture he endures is in watching c!dream suffocate in front of him, over and over, with no way to help.

What if:

c!dream remembers how almost the entire server watched as he lost two canon lives; and that no one said anything to stop him being murdered.

c!dream has recurring nightmares where the server watches again, but this time it’s as c!quackity takes his sanity.

C!dream becomes so sure that there are other people in the cell when c!quackity visits him. That the people he once called friends are watching him be tortured. Sometimes he sees them out of the corner of his eye, other times he can only feel them watching. Sometimes he begs for their help, pleads with the mirages his mind has conjured. C!quackity will occasionally indulge these hallucinations, pretend to interact with them, make c!dream detail exactly who he’s seeing. Other times he taunts c!dream with the knowledge of his tenuous grasp on reality, question the logic of certain peoples presence, and do anything he can to remind c!dream that he’s alone, that he only has c!quackity now.

C!dream tells c!techno how many witnesses there had been to his torture. C!techno tells him it wasn’t real, that no one could have watched his suffering and stood idly by. C!dream is so grateful, he’d been so confused when everyone, even his best friends, had done nothing as they watched him be murdered. But it hadn’t been real... right?

both c!tommy and c!sapnap have said that Pandora's vault is a fate worse then death

I can make it worse- is dying of old age a thing in minecraft? Because we don’t know if c!dream can commit suicide to bring about a canon death, so did he ever wonder if he would just be left there? That everyone on the server would leave, that he would be forgotten or intentionally left behind. Doomed to spend eternity locked in pandoras vault. Without having even a clock to keep him company, because he’d destroyed it in a desperate ploy for human interaction. I make myself sad sometimes

currently wondering what the longest time c!dream went without human contact was

C!Dream affected not only by malnutrition, but but by a lack of sunlight.

When he first enters pandoras vault he’s doing, okay. Mentally and physically. Still shaken by his two canon deaths in quick succession, but he’s handling it.

But then he starts sleeping more (and it hurts because it reminds him of c!george). But sleeping is all he has to occupy himself, a way to make the time pass faster. He tries to keep his strength up, to exercise regularly, maintain his stamina, but it seems to get harder everyday. Not just because there’s no point, but physically. Fatigue plagues him every waking moment. He sleeps not because of its restorative effect, but because when hes sleeping, he doesn’t know just how tired he is.

Everything hurts. He can never find a comfortable position on the obsidian floor, but it’s more than that. His very bones ache. Muscle pain is constant, with no exertion to explain it. His legs cramp, his whole body does, despite it never happening to him previously.

When c!Quackity visits, things are worse then they should be. Hits that would have only bruised in the past now break bones. His wounds don’t heal like they used to. Infections set in easily. He can only watch as his body breaks down, is broken down, and one day he forgets what the sun looks like. Did its warm rays on his skin feel the same as the heat radiating of the lava? He can’t remember anymore.

Everything listed is an actual symptom of vitamin d deficiency! Not included is depression and mood swings. Add onto all that solitary confinement & malnutrition. 6 months of no sunlight is a Very Bad Thing.

Thinking about how c!dream wasn’t left alive out of mercy, but because he was useful. Everyone watched two canon lives taken from him- one after he’d surrendered (which is a war crime btw) and no one said anything. They were perfectly willing to see him perma killed.

Dream knowing his attachments and relationships weren’t what saved his life, but his last remnant of power.

One topic I feel like doesn’t get talked about enough in Hetalia is weird deaths. Like since they have probably lived for a really long time, most have been alive since the Middle Ages, imagine the stupid stories they have about death. Yeah sure some deaths are and were serious but France has has two of his kings die bc of a door. NOT ONE BUT TWO BLOODY KINGS HAVE DIED FROM FUCKING DOORS. Let’s not forget about the whole “fuck around and find out”, probably most nations have died bc of animals. Hell I want to imagine that Ancient Greece’s head was split in half from a fucking turtle or that Australia died bc he swam too far and no one( New Zealand) bothered to swim to him to see if he was alive, or that he died in the goddamn Emu war (he didn’t die but he definitely felt dead inside from being made fun of from the other nations)

Chapter 6: What time took from me: Temporal Cipher

Content Warning for Chapter 6 This chapter contains depictions of psychological distress, hallucinations, paranoia, mentions of therapy, and unsettling imagery (including gore-like descriptions, though not physical). Reader discretion is advised, especially for those sensitive to topics related to mental health struggles and dissociation. DEAD DOVE: DO NOT EAT.

there's fluff despite everything, dw, you're not just a reader! there's aftercare.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Another day. Another twisted activity waiting for us.

We were all gathered in a cramped, windowless room today — air thick with tension and the faint metallic tang of stress-sweat. Proctors paced back and forth, handing out assignments, their shoes tapping like countdown clocks against the tile.

Every student had their own task: someone bent metal into intricate symbols; another whispered to a bowl of water until their reflection screamed back; one kid calculated endless numbers, their fingers twitching like flesh calculators.

And me? I got the box.

It sat at the center of the room, black and heart beating, almost alive. When the proctor called my name, my gut twisted painfully — the same way it did when I first learned my mother died. A slow-blooming nausea that whispered, This will change you.

I obeyed anyway. Because what else could I do?

The moment my fingertips brushed the box, everything around me ruptured.

The walls melted, my classmates vanished, and suddenly I was standing on a bridge suspended over nothing. The sky churned with black oil clouds, and the only sound was my own pulse, loud and thunderous, rattling my skull from the inside out.

The first puzzle piece was easy — a small section of the box slid away under my touch, clicking into place like a child's toy. Too easy.

The second piece? It bit into my skin. Razor-sharp edges slid under my nails, prying them up like peeling fruit skin. Blood welled fast and slick, dripping down my wrists — but I couldn't stop. My fingers moved like puppets under some crueler hand, and the more I solved, the more reality warped around me.

I saw my mother's coffin. Even though in reality, I never had the chance to give my mother a proper burial.

It was standing upright beside me — nailed shut, but not enough to stop her hand from slipping through the crack. Bone-thin fingers, nails ripped clean off, reaching for me.

Behind me, Clara stood with her throat slit wide open — petals growing from the wound like some macabre garden, blooming faster every time I blinked.

Worst of all, in the mirrored shards scattered on the ground, I saw myself. Or versions of me. 

One had no eyes, just empty sockets filled with writhing, ink-black worms. 

One had my lips stitched shut with golden wire, my hands folded politely like a corpse. 

One stood with her back bent at a grotesque angle, head hanging loose by a thread of skin.

I should have screamed. I should have stopped. I didn't.

Because the box wouldn't let me.

--------------------------------------------------------------

With every new piece, the puzzle took more from me.

My left eye burst — or at least, it felt like it. A blinding flash of pain seared through my skull, and something thicker than blood leaked down my cheek. I wiped at it, trembling, and my hand came away soaked in black ink, dripping like melted shadow.

My fingers began to crack and splinter, bone peeking through skin. Every time a piece slid into place, my own flesh unraveled — as if solving the puzzle meant dismantling myself.

But I couldn't stop.

Time twisted in knots around me. The bridge collapsed and rebuilt itself beneath my feet, forcing me to step forward, backward, sideways — every wrong step dropped me into another memory.

I fell into my childhood bedroom, staring at my mother's empty bed.

I fell into the schoolyard, watching Clara wave before a flower pierced her hand.

I fell into my own grave, dirt filling my mouth until I couldn't scream.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Somewhere, some tiny rational part of my mind knew the truth.

This wasn't real. None of it. This was the test — a psychic simulation planted directly into my skull by the proctors. My body was still standing in that tiny room, trembling, hands clutching the real box.

But the rest of me? I was dying. Over and over and over.

This was how they forced my powers to awaken. Not through training — through terror. Through stress so violent my time magic would activate by instinct.

They were ripping me open, not to teach me, but to see if I could survive it.

When the final piece slid into place, I hit the ground hard. My knees split open against jagged stone, and for a moment I could taste my own blood, bright and sharp like a warning bell.

The bridge shattered beneath me, sending me into a free-fall through my own memories, my own past mistakes. I relived my mother's death in reverse, watching her rise from the grave, heal from her sickness, smile at me once more—

And then I woke up.

Back in the room. Hands trembling over the very normal, very wooden puzzle box. The proctor nodded once. "Good work." My gaze fell to the woman by his side. It was Ms. Renée

She didn't ask questions. Didn't tell me it was all fake, because she knew it didn't matter. My mind couldn't tell the difference. My body still remembered the agony, the trauma. The phantom pain lingered, too deep to scrub out.

She knelt beside me, hands warm on my frozen skin. "Hagarin, You're okay."

I couldn't even answer. My throat felt stitched shut.

She wiped my face gently — her sleeve coming away soaked with cold sweat and tears. No blood. No ink. Just a terrified kid they pushed too far.

The walk home is as though paranoia grips through my skin, it causes me to shiver to no end, no relief, no warmth.

Ms. Renée walked me home, her arm never leaving my shoulders. Every step felt like it existed in three different timelines — one where I fell, one where I ran, one where I stood still until time ate me alive.

When we reached my door, I froze.

It wasn't my house. It was my mother's funeral home, twisted into the shape of my front door. Her coffin was waiting inside — not real, but my brain didn't care.

I collapsed to my knees, trembling so violently I thought my bones would rattle apart.

Ms. Renee held me, whispering, "You're here. You're real." I didn't believe her.

I still don't.

That night, I lay in bed, staring at my hands.

The injuries were gone. My fingers were whole. My eye was intact. My skin was clean.

But when I clenched my fists, the air shimmered, rippling faintly like time didn't fully trust me anymore.

Every time I blinked, I saw the stitched-mouth version of me sitting at the foot of my bed, watching, waiting for me to break again.

Time didn't just test me today. It claimed me.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Morning light gently seeped through the veil of my curtains, painting fragile gold across the room and...

Sleep didn't come.

When I closed my eyes, I fell into the bridge again. Into the coffin. Into my own corpse.

I woke up gasping, fingers clawing at my throat, convinced it was still sewn shut. I vomited once — black sludge that vanished the moment I blinked, leaving me doubting if it ever happened.

Time magic is supposed to be beautiful. But mine feels like a curse — a parasite gnawing at my spine, whispering, You don't deserve control. We do.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The next morning—another morning. I saw my reflection.

My face was fine. But my shadow moved slower than me, lagging by just a fraction of a second — like time itself didn't fully trust me anymore.

At breakfast, my cup cracked when I picked it up — age speeding up around my fingertips until the glass simply couldn't hold itself together.

I was unraveling. And no one could see it but me. 

They wanted me to learn control. 

What I learned instead is that time has teeth — and every second you touch will bite back.

I'm stronger now. But I'm also haunted.

Because every time I close my eyes, I still see that stitched-mouth girl — still sitting at the foot of my bed, still waiting for me to break her free.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The past five days unraveled like a slow, cruel unraveling of thread — paranoia soaked into every corner of my mind until it left me disheveled, barely standing today. My fingers now brush against the fragile edges of reality, where I could finally distinguish what was real and what was only a phantom born from my fear.

Guilt curled itself around my throat like a noose, tightening with every breath I took. I never gave Hanari the explanation she deserved — I simply pushed her towards Ms. Renée, too ashamed, too fractured to speak for myself.

The school excused me for a month, a mercy disguised as punishment. They said I needed time to recover, as if time alone could soothe wounds carved into my mind. Even now, I'm not sure if healing is something I can reach.

A therapist was assigned to untangle my chaos, but how do you calm nerves that still vibrate with phantom pain? How do you silence a storm that's made a home inside your head?

The day I finally told Hanari the truth, the weight of my own words crushed me. I cried. I broke. I admitted I was not okay — and somehow, saying it out loud made it all feel so much heavier.

When the tears finally fell, Hanari pulled me into her arms — no words, no questions, just the quiet strength of her embrace. It was her way of reminding me that I was still here, that I was alive, even if my mind had long wandered into the graveyard of my fears. Her warmth bled into my skin, thawing the frost left by endless nights of paranoia. And in her arms, I could finally...

Breathe.

And for the first time in days, I drifted — not into nightmares, not into fractured time loops or restless visions, but into something tender and whole.

I slept in peace.

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Days slip through my fingers, and still, my feet refuse to touch the school grounds. I've let procrastination drape over me like a second skin, curling into my blankets as if they could protect me from everything I'm not ready to face. I feel better now, at least my body does — but my spirit won't rise.

Not yet.

There's a whisper in my mind, one that tells me to step forward, to walk into the unknown, because life rarely waits for those who hesitate. But I'm too tired, and for once, I want to be selfish enough to stay still — to let my bones sink into rest without guilt gnawing at me.

So my world shrinks to something soft and familiar: cooking for my sisters, sweeping the floors, folding laundry, turning ordinary moments into quiet lanterns that light my way back to myself. I even let myself imagine a life of simple domesticity.

But no — a housewife I could never be. Not in this life, not in this body.

I was tracing meaningless lines into my sketchbook when the silence broke. A knock — sharp, loud, persistent — rattled the door. A knock so familiar, I already knew whose hand it belonged to.

I wasn’t wearing my mask, so for a brief moment, I caught a small glimpse of the future. It was them — Ezra, Clarence, and Clara. Oddly enough, my mind felt calm, as if the usual storm had finally settled. Maybe it was because I was relaxed, and for once, my powers weren’t overwhelming me.

Perhaps the only real weapon against my own abilities was something as simple as staying calm. Maybe that was the key all along.

I walked toward the front door, and just as my vision predicted, there stood Ezra.

"Oh, my dove! I missed you!" Before I could even process the moment, Ezra swept me off my feet — quite literally — pulling me into a hug so sudden it forced a yelp out of me. Strangely enough, my little glimpse into the future never warned me about that.

The second he set me down, Clara stepped forward, pulling me into her own embrace. There was a warmth in it that made my heart ache in the best way. In that moment, surrounded by people who cared, I felt alive.

"I’m so glad you’re okay," Clara said softly, her voice trembling as unshed tears gathered in her eyes.

"Hey, don’t cry. I’m here — I’m okay now. Sane as ever," I reassured her, though my smile was just a little wobbly.

"Ooh, nice house." Ezra’s eyes darted around, already scanning every corner like a curious child in a new playground.

I let out a quiet groan, fully expecting him to start touching everything he could get his hands on.

"I’m really glad you’re okay now, Hagarin," Clarence said, his voice softer than usual. "When we saw you leaving school with Ms. Renée, you looked... not great."

I nodded, the memory making my shoulders tense involuntarily. "It was hell," I admitted. No sugarcoating, just the raw truth.

I led them into the living room, only to find Ezra already making himself at home, flipping through the movie collection like he owned the place.

"Have a seat, guys. I own the place anyway," Ezra joked, sprawling dramatically across the couch like a king claiming his throne.

Without a second thought, I grabbed a cushion and threw it straight at his face. Clara and Clarence burst into soft laughter as they settled into the room, filling the space with a comforting sense of normalcy I hadn’t felt in a while.

And it was nice — really nice.

I didn’t feel alone.

I had them, too.

They might each carry their own ghosts, their own cracks and sharp edges, but knowing we all had our struggles somehow made it easier to breathe. I wasn’t drifting aimlessly in isolation anymore. I had my people—chaotic, flawed, and human—right beside me.

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2,535 words

next chapter

Chapter 3: Answers and Change of Plans

Content Warning: This chapter contains mentions of death, health-related distress (migraines/passing out), themes of isolation, and discussions about mortality. Reader discretion is advised.

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I woke to the sterile scent of bleach and the muted hum of fluorescent lights, the weight of my own skull pressing down like stone. My limbs felt waterlogged, heavy as if the bed beneath me was slowly pulling me into its core.

Hanari's voice reached me before my vision fully returned, muffled and sharp at the edges, her tone caught somewhere between anger and fear. "You should've told me."

I blinked against the ceiling, pale and cracked, a spiderweb fissure directly above me that seemed to throb in time with my pulse. "Are you done moping?" My voice came out raspier than expected, irritation curling through my words—not because I was angry at her, but because I needed something to feel other than dread.

Hanari folded her arms, her posture defensive, but her eyes too wide, too soft. The mask didn't fit today. "Dramatic sigh" barely covered the shaky breath she let out as her shoulders rose and fell. "You're such a dick."

The glass door creaked open, and Ms. Renée stepped inside, her reflection warping in the glass like something unreal. The setting sun behind her fractured into shards of light, cutting her figure into pieces. In her hand was a mug—coffee, dark and bitter from the scent that followed her in.

"I'm glad to see you awake," she said, but her smile didn't quite reach her eyes. "How are you feeling?"

"Headache's gone..." I answered, but the relief felt fake. "What did you do?"

Her face flickered with something unreadable before she folded her arms, considering her words too carefully. "Focus on resting first. Your health comes first."

"Don't patronize me. I want answers." The words ripped out of me before I could soften them, sharp and uneven. Something burned inside my chest, a simmering panic I couldn't name.

Renée sighed, long and tired. "Kids these days. Always so hungry for ruin."

Beside me, Hanari leaned in, whispering through a half-smirk, "You're stubborn too."

"Listen closely." Renée's voice lowered into something quieter, colder, like she was telling us a ghost story we were already trapped inside. "Hanari, when you found Hagarin, I mentioned the headaches. They aren't migraines. They're symptoms."

"Symptoms of what?" Hanari's voice broke slightly. The cracks were showing.

"Time travel."

The word alone made my stomach twist. Time was no longer a concept or a lesson or even a power. It was inside me. A disease eating through the walls of my skull.

"The headaches, the blackouts, the visions—they're your brain trying to reconcile past, present, and future all at once. Your mind wasn't made to hold infinity." Renée paused, letting the silence soak in. "If you don't learn control, time itself will drown you."

That's when the word hit me like a knife to the chest: Death.

It was no longer a distant concept. It was here, sitting beside me, breathing on my neck. I had always wondered—would it be a void? Would it hurt? Would I even notice when I crossed the line between existing and not?

My head spun, nausea curling deep inside me.

"Can you..." My voice barely worked. "Can you explain what happens? From experience?"

Renée's smile was brittle. "Of course."

She leaned back, eyes drifting to the ceiling, where memories seemed to stain the tiles like watermarks.

"The visions never stop. Past, future, alternate versions of now—they whisper constantly. You'll hear things that haven't happened yet and things that already did but differently. You'll see your own death a thousand times over in a hundred different ways. Your brain will try to split itself into pieces just to make room." Her fingers traced the edge of her chair like she was touching a grave marker.

"When I first realized what I was, my parents locked me in a room for months. I was dangerous, even to myself. They thought isolation would save me—but it just made me a prison of my own mind."

I could see her now, a younger version, curled up in a corner, knuckles white, vision flickering between every timeline where she lived, died, ran, stayed. A thousand lifetimes trapped inside one skull.

"So how did you survive?" My voice sounded small. Fragile.

"I ran." She didn't sugarcoat it. "I ran until I couldn't hear them screaming my name anymore."

Hanari and I exchanged a glance, that unspoken what the hell? hanging between us.

"It's survival," Renée said with a shrug. "Messy, desperate, survival."

Golden light sliced across her face, painting her like a portrait half-burned at the edges.

"I was thirteen when I learned to lock most of it away. I got into this school. They transferred me to the time traveler department, and I stayed hidden there until I understood how to breathe without choking on centuries."

She stood abruptly, shaking off the weight of her own story. "Anyway, I run a library five blocks from here. Visit sometime."

"Will you actually be there?" I asked, half hopeful.

Her smile was half a ghost. "No. I'm a history teacher, not a prophet."

She left before I could answer, the door swinging shut behind her.

Hanari's shoulder pressed into mine, warm and real in the empty room. "Woah...quite the announcement."

I stared at the tiled floor, letting the information sink in like water through cracks. "Yeah."

"It'll be fun," Hanari said, too bright, too forced. "You'll have a hell of a story to tell."

"Consent would've been nice," I muttered. "Ms. Renée never even asked."

"Maybe the admins will do an official talk. They have to, right?"

I didn't answer.

"Have you decided?" Her voice softened.

I stared at my hands, at the faint tremble I couldn't hide. "Dunno."

Hanari leaned her head against my shoulder. "You have a death wish."

The words should've been funny, but they weren't.

We sat there, shoulder to shoulder, while the room darkened around us. Just two silhouettes against the fading light, floating somewhere between fate and fear.

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The air inside the counselor's office clung to my skin like cold sweat. The silence had weight—like the room itself knew secrets it couldn't say aloud. The printer groaned in the corner, coughing up a consent form, each page landing like a death sentence.

"You're early," Maria Tess said, voice mildly surprised. "I haven't even prepped the files yet."

I glanced at her nameplate, gold edges catching the flickering fluorescent light: Maria Tess. Funny how official names always felt like gravestones.

"Wanted to get this over with," I said. "So I can sleep after."

"Even Ms. Renée isn't here yet. Relax."

Relax. In a room where my fate hung from a single sheet of paper.

The doorbell chimed, and Ms. Renée stepped inside, her coffee steaming, her smile distant. Maria Tess handed me the form, paper still warm, ink still drying.

"We're all aware of your situation," Maria Tess began, words too rehearsed. "When students discover dangerous powers, we relocate them. For safety. For survival."

Time travelers didn't get to choose. Time itself chose them, and all they could do was keep breathing until it didn't want them anymore.

"Without control," she said, "your mind will fracture under the weight of the past and future. And it will kill you."

The word wasn't metaphorical. It was bone-deep, absolute.

"Sign here."

"This is how you stay alive." "Hagarin." Ms. Renée's voice cut cleanly through the silence, slicing apart the fog of my thoughts. "This will benefit you — if you want to keep living."Maybe I needed that bluntness. A reminder that this wasn't just a choice between two doors, but between survival and collapse.

I blinked, my gaze still locked on the consent form. My hand hovered near the pen, fingers curling and uncurling like they couldn't decide if they belonged to me.

"...Would this damage me financially?" The question tumbled out before I could think it through, my voice quieter than I meant."Not at all," Ms. Tess replied, her tone brisk and assured — at the exact same moment Ms. Renée answered too, her voice overlapping in a soft echo.  For some reason, that made me smile. Just a little.

 I exhaled slowly, letting the air drag out all my hesitations with it. 

 "Alright." 

 The pen felt heavier than it should as I picked it up. With each stroke of ink, the page drank my consent, sealing my fate in writing.My name rested there, small and sharp in the sea of legal language, and though my heart felt like it was trying to claw its way out of my chest, the signature was already drying.

 It was done.

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1,512 words.

Hi guys, I plan to write more than 1k words.  Every chapter gets worse and worse, hang in there, Hagarin will be insane soon.

Next chapter

Chapter 1: Present time

This chapter contains themes that may be sensitive to some readers, including:

References to past violenceMentions of death, Light school stress and academic pressure, Brief mention of dangerous creatures and plants (idk how sensitive are yall but hell yeah), Mild language.

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Hagarin's POV After many years, we are finally old enough to leave the institution and live independently in the city. My sisters and I are still together and living under the same roof. I also saw several changes in ourselves as we grew up.

And today, both Hanari and I are 15 years old. We spent years studying within the facility and never had the opportunity to attend a regular school. Now that we are living alone, we can finally attend school. I considered staying at home and do houseworks while my two sisters continue with their studies, but Hanari insisted that I should as well.

We all know that education will always be important in many aspects in lives. 

In the world we live in, survival demands sharp minds—not just sharpened by magic, but by the brutal chaos we humans created for ourselves.

We’re still human, I suppose. Just tainted—twisted by the very magic that makes me wonder: is this still humanity, or were we meant to become something else entirely? 

The world has grown far more advanced ever since magic spread across it. Nothing feels impossible anymore. Some have forgotten where they came from. Others cling to old traditions and beliefs. And then there are those who simply don’t care.

Maybe that’s why the world feels so loud. Everyone’s different now, and no one seems willing to accept what we’ve become.

Look around, and you might see flying cars soaring through the skies of this city. In another, people ride enchanted brooms as their everyday transport. Everything and everyone is different—blended together in a strange mix of magic, machines, and habits.

But here…

I live in a city considered the richest in the world. The nation itself—Aloy—owes its wealth to vast oil reserves. Oil money built everything here. Because of that upper hand, nearly everything is accessible. Magic, technology, luxury—you name it. In Aloy, nothing feels out of reach.

What this city values most, though, isn’t oil—it’s metal. Preserved, traded, revered. I think it’s because the city was once ruled by a god whose very touch could turn anything into metal. Not figuratively—literally. Stone, wood, even flesh. Everything he touched became metal.

And that kind of power leaves a mark. On the land, on the people, on the way we see worth.

But that might not matter now. What matters is that every morning, we follow a certain timetable. I get up early to cook our breakfast, and Hanari and our younger sister will get up early to prepare for school. When they're finished, we'll all enjoy breakfast together. After that, Hanari will wash the dishes as I prepare for school, and our younger sister will assist in putting the plates back in the drawers.

That routine goes on and on everyday.

Sharing what has just happened at the school we attend is stressful, at least for me and Hanari. Our younger sister is stress-free since she is still young and a kindergarten student.

Lately, we have been learning many magic spells, doing scientific experiments, studying a bunch of literature and theses, and many more.

I can say that studying magic spells and doing scientific experiments will help us discover what elemental power we possess.

As I listen to my journalism teacher, I'm fighting the urge to fall asleep. She was now discussing the significance of magic, particularly how it began.

"Magic is important to everyone. No matter how unfair or how much chaos it brings to our lives." she went on to say. "And, in the beginning, the use of magic was legalized as a weapon to defend ourselves, but I have to warn everyone not to be such a prick when it comes to using magic." She giggled, went to the board, and began writing.

"To be exact, 8290 years ago, magic was discovered by a witch," she said, making my focus adjust to her as I listened. I was intrigued. "That witch was none other than Victoria Lemioska." It intrigued the whole class. "Also known as; Victo. Now that you all came to a realization, in all places in the world, her face, and statues are everywhere. As we are all deeply connected with her discovery of the magic," she said before turning to us once again.

"Since Victo is a witch, she first discovered a spell to make a withered plant come back to life." The teacher pulled out a withered rose and used magic to bring it back to a healthy life while it floated in the air. "Victo discovered that spell and named it Resuscitate."

"As time passes by, more spells are discovered by her."

"You can learn it in your spell class."

"But as a journalist, I have seen her notebook filled with magical spells; half of it is forbidden to be used as it casts irreversible damage to anything." She snapped her fingers, making an image of the notebook appear in the air.

We all gazed up, awestruck. It's quite a hefty notepad. Though the object is significantly tarnished due to its age, I can see that the writing on the notepad is still legible and readable to anybody. However, I was attracted by the prohibited magic. I feel that the banned spells are not included in the magic books that are handed to us.

when the image disappeared and the rose landed on her desk. "The notebook was located in our national museum, the Metallica Museum." Our teacher was about to speak again, but then a student raised their hand.

"Ma'am, what about the five major elements?" A student asked.

"The five major elements were discovered by Baili Hermin," our teacher stated. "He was also a journalist like me, and of course, being a journalist requires traveling around the world to explore many things."

"Fun fact, he also used to work under the branch of media analyst, wherein I also work." She proudly claimed. "Moving on, it may sound unrealistic, but Baili met Victoria in a desert. Baili was almost attacked by a lion, but Victo blinded the lion with a spell and took Baili to a cave."

"There's proof, no matter how unrealistic, that Baili's diary was found, and it was also in the museum. He documented his whole journey of travelling around the world, and the most highlighted part of his diary was the discovery of the five major elements."

"He discovered it because of Victo. Baili wrote everything about what Victo said about magic spells, making it more believable that magic spells exist."

"When the article reached many people, the majority of the people started to panic, and out of panic, everyone else planned to execute Victo. The reason is that Victo is nothing but an outcast in the world; possessing magic is absurd and unbelievable."

"And yet, we are here, prone to using magic," our teacher said.

"The elements were discovered when Victo was executed; a light escaped from her chest, making it explode through the sky. It landed on humans, animals, and most importantly, plants."

"Which resulted in why we have species in the forest that are completely dangerous and can harm your life, for example, the flower Rafflesia."

"Before the light landed on that flower, it's just the biggest flower in the world and has a foul odor to attract insects to kill."

"Now it still does its purpose, but it has the ability to stretch away from its position and follow you everywhere in the forest." Our teacher deadpanned making the whole class laughed.

"To make this quick, the five major elements landed on five humans, and those humans are now known to be the gods of those major elements." Our teacher sighed. "We are all aware that the most powerful and rare element to possess is time; in other words, you can control the time, predict what's going to happen, and there are many other signs to feel if you possess one."

"Second is nature."

"Remember, never mess with nature itself, as it was the one that gave us a reason to live in, to breathe in. The ability to possess nature grants you access to control plants and animals."

"But isn't changing the weather also a part of it?" A student asked. "Only the god of nature can do that." Our teacher chuckled. "Come to think of it, the God of Nature has a 15-year streak of absence. Many say that her aura is still around, but many also believe she has passed away, and it's just nature speaking," the teacher sighed.

"Moving on, fire is on the third."

"In my study, fire is always predicted to be possessed by someone who has such a boisterous personality, while the ice one is someone who is...restrained. However, this is just a myth. It is still mostly believed that no matter what personality you posses you'd still get whatever." our teacher summoned her book and it was probably her personalized book. It has a lot of pages and everything that was written in that book was her understanding on how to predict which element do a person possesses.

"ah, here it is." She placed her book on the desk and started reading.

"The element of fire is known to be the most fascinating, exquisite and ravishing elemental of all. It was asserted as one considering a klatsch of people are indulged to play with fire even if it only steers to harm."

"and by all means of harm, it can also be describe as destruction." she finished making the whole class whisper among themselves. "But that doesn't mean to treat someone with disrespect just because they hold that elemental power." She sighed.

THIRD PERSON'S POV

The teacher noticed the change of atmosphere in her class and sighed. "You all probably have forgotten my name but once again, my name is Renée and I hope you all learned something today." Renée glanced at her watch on her wrist.

many students started to protest on her from leaving. They still have a lot of questions with the history but that will all be answered at the next time they see each other again. Renée only stifled a chuckle at the frustrated expression of their students. Curiosity truly made their heads run wild.

"An advance reading on your textbooks won't hurt. Simply just turn your page to chapter 5 and all of your questions will be briefly answered as it provides descriptive explanation to everything." Renée finally exit the classroom.

Once she did, the students in her class opened their textbooks to discover a lot more information. As Renée exit the classroom, she went to the elevator to venture her way to her next class but she was greeted by another teacher; Kyla.

"I see you've gotten your students all pumped up. Quite a headache to deal with." Kyla scoffed as she pressed on the buttons. It only made Renée shrug. "Don't act like you aren't as curious as them when you're at that age." Renée retorted to only make Kyla chuckle and let Renée's tone slide for now. "I assumed you've found someone with a rare element in this class. Hmm?" Kyla's eyes watched Renée's expression from the reflections of the elevator.

"It was such a rare occurrence indeed." Renée remembered Hagarin. "Her eyes are different from the rest. The colors were a lot more dull than the others making it more accessible to assume that she was an extraordinary person." Renée thoughtfully answered. "And this by this she you are referring to, who is she?" Kyla averted her eyes from Renée and focused on the door as it opened. a small ding was heard as they reached the floor. Renée walked ahead of Kyla but spoke before leaving. "Hagarin."

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2,022 words.

Chapter 2

I love doomed Yuri

tw blood/gun

slowly making my way through season 2

[insert „Toji killing himself in front of Megumi“ here]

O_o

O_o

O_o

O_o

Sensitive topic!

TW: svc1d3, mention of 0v3rd0s3, 4lch0h0l p0¡s¡0n¡ng, and s3lf h4rm as well as other issues, please read at your own risk.

basically, I probably won’t be active anymore, I’m planning on km$ today, sometime during the night. I’ve had a cranky shitty 4ss life. I don’t look forward to anything anymore and I feel like absolute shit. I’ve got everything ready, the letters, all that bs. The only thing I want for now is the final step. No quote can turn my the cogs in my brain, no kind of guilt will convince me otherwise. This has been the only thing I look forward too. And I truly, entirely cannot fathom how much I desire the mere suggestion of d34th. I feel as if my whole world lights up. And for once, as soon I take the final step, one final push, I will feel like a true free bird. Of course, I’ve always wanted to at least have some fun before I d¡3, I plan on dr¡nk¡ng down the p¡11s I’ll take, I used to just merely cvt myself yet the pleasure of bl00d flowing out is no longer enough.

goodbye cruel world, sincerely, everyx.

If you are eager to see Marauders Era characters brutally murder eachother...visit BrantSteele today!

And not only them! You can pick any 24 characters and make them die a painful death! That includes fictional characters, OCs, people you know in real life or just...random people!

no but i'm serious what the fuck is this /pos

(evan will kill emmeline later btw)

ᵖˡᵉᵃˢᵉ ʳᵉᵃᵈ ᵗʰᵉ ᵗᵃᵍˢ ᶠⁱʳˢᵗ

i am extremly sorry that i didn't do a post for sev's birthday, i was really busy, but i thought i can do it now, because he deserves a birthday post!

(read til the end)

sad horrible i wish you the worst birthday snape!

i hope those 62 years of life you definitely didn't deserve are making you wish you had an ebay account! :)

and i really, really hope that you got a really nice gift for your birthday (if yall think i'm reffering at lily then yea,,,no) (i'm reffering at a dungbomb or an Ak-47 or sth)

also i would really appreciate if you die before you turn 63 :)

i am looking forward to see a fanfic where y/n doesn't go to an all boys school, gets bullied, gets an alpha boyfriend who is LITERALLY 8 feet taller than her, finds out she's in a toxic relation ship, finds out her boyfriend is cheating on her with a gold digger, cries on the rooftop, sings fight song, meets a nice boy (who is 10 feet taller than her), finds out the alpha is the nice boy's brother, and she dies.

boom! original plot

This is a lover's to enemies to lovers story.

TW: Death, Child death, suicide, description of blood., Description of a burning building, and just overall sad

A soft breeze crossed the crisp air of the fall morning. “My love, your coffee is ready” A deep voice called from somewhere in the kitchen.

“I’m coming, just finishing up these papers.” Her light and airy voice carried through the small house. She smiled looking down at the ultrasound picture in her hand. She was so excited, a family had always been her dream and now it was coming true. Heavy footsteps came through the doorway, interrupting her train of thought.

“Here love, figured i’d just bring it to you,” He handed the coffee off to her, laying his head on her shoulder and began to admire the picture as well. “Couple weeks love, then we’ll be able to meet our baby boy,” He kissed her temple and patted her lower back before making his way back towards the living room.

“Oliver, are you going in for hero work today?” She glanced one last time at the picture then made her way to the living room, coffee in hand.

“Yes, I’ll be leaving at 4pm” he sipped his coffee eyes on the T.V, broadcasting his latest job at the train station. He truly loved his job, but the fact of the baby on the way troubled him slightly. “Anastasia, are you sure you’ll be able to handle the baby and everything while i’m at work,”

Anastasia rolled her eyes “There is no need to worry, the baby’s not even here yet, plus I’m perfectly capable of looking after myself,” She smiled seeing her husband on the couch, she cherished these moments. Ones where he was home safe and within her reach. Anastasia knew he loved saving people, since he was a child it’s been his dream but she was still fearful for his safety.

“You okay? You look a little lost in thought,” A hand waved in front of her face, scaring her. He chuckled softly, a whispered apology following. Both were startled however, by the sudden pain that shot through Anastasia’s stomach. Causing her to groan in pain and hunch slightly while Oliver stood ready to assist in any way.

“Ah, okay little guy,” she huffed rubbing her belly “You want to join the conversation?” She looked up smiling at Oliver,

“He’s just excited to meet his fantastic father” He gloated, showing a bright smile and puffing his chest. She couldn’t help the small chuckle as he stuck his signature hero pose.

“Yes, a true hero” with a soft kiss both relaxed into the sofa, smiling at the events that were yet to come.

The days flew by for the young, expecting couple, as the cool fall days turned into harsh cold winters the due date for the baby was only days away, Anastasia could feel it. After talking with Oliver they came to the conclusion that it would be best for her to stay in the hospital for the next couple of days. With Oliver being out for hero work, they feared no one would be present if Anastasia were to need help. “A hero’s hunch is always right” she sighed, rocking her baby boy in the delivery room. She had just asked the nurse to ring her mother-in-law, to see if she wanted to meet the baby. Anastasia looked at the boy, a replica of his father, “Not even a little?” She questioned herself. “My little Alex,” She kissed his head and admired his soft features. Alex, she loved that name, Defender of Mankind is what it meant, the definition of a hero.

“Mrs.Wilson, i’m sorry but she is unable to make it” The nurse gave her an apologetic smile before moving to adjust the new mothers pillow, “No mom should be alone in a delivery room, especially on New years,”

“Oh it’s okay, my husband had a massive gala he couldn’t miss” Anastasia knew her husband's job was important to him, especially attending events like these, kept his popularity up. “I’ll see him when I get home” her soft but sorrow filled smile caught the nurses attention.

“Does he even know that you went into labor?” The nurse fluffed the pillow and refilled the water cup that sat on the bedside table.

“Huh, oh no” she softly thanked the nurse for the water “He’s busy, I wouldn’t want to disturb him,” She took a large gulp of water before setting the cup down and returning her attention to her baby, lifting him up into the air slightly.

“It’s okay to cry,” The nurse took the baby from Anastasia's arms, putting him in the small crib next to the bed. “I’m here for you Mrs.Wilson,” She sat down on the bed, taking Anastasia into her comforting arms. “Let it all out love.”

“I’m sorry,” Anastasia accepted the hug and sobs flooded onto the shoulder of the nurse. “I *hick-up* I know I shouldn't be mad b-but..”

“No no honey, you have every right to be angry,” She rubbed soft circles onto the mothers back, “Don’t think like that.” She allowed the women to cry for a couple of minutes offering all the comfort she could, even releasing tears of her own. What man does this? She thought to herself “Shhh hush love, you need rest,” The nurse laid Anastasia’s head down onto the fluffy pillow and gently picked up “Baby Alex,” She smiled cooing at the baby then gently laying him down right next to his mother. “I’ll be back in a little to check up on you,” She kissed the young woman's head and left, allowing her the much needed rest.

Anastasia was overcome with sadness or was it anger she wasn’t quite sure. Holding her baby tightly thinking back to the event of earlier today. “Oliver, I think the baby’s coming,” She had called her husband several times, each time going to voicemail. She huffed sitting in the chair practicing her breaths. “Guess we’re on our own little one,” she rubbed her belly, resisting the urge to cry “We got this.” She gently patted Alex’s back , “Your father loves us, I promise,” She fought against the fatigue that was drawing her closer to sleep with every passing second. “He’s a fantastic hero, he will always protect us.” Sleep finally won, dragging her into a blissful rest.

“Mrs.Wilson, Mrs.Wilson '' the nurse gently shook Amastasia's shoulder successfully waking her, “Hun, we just have to do a quick check up and then you’ll be good to go,” She smiled at the woman.

“R-really? I can go home,” She sat up, careful of her son who was still sleeping next to her, “D-did Oliver ever show?” She was hoping to wake and find her husband there ready to carry them home. She looked around the room surprised to see a very large man sleeping in the corner. A spark of hope was lit that he had shown but upon further examination it was “Dad?”.

“Ah yes, Mr.Andrew came by after I called him, he was on your emergency list,” The nurse turned and grabbed the tray of food she had brought in. “I was amazed, he showed up in like 5 minutes” she smiled looking at the hunched man, “He was so worried, he truly does love you.” With that comment she set the tray across Anastasia lap and took her leave.

“Dad, Hey Dad,” She called but got no response, looking around she saw the pudding cup on her tray and decided to chuck it at him. He’ll catch it, she thought. Without even opening his eyes, he went to catch the cup but completely missed, resulting in it hitting him directly in the face. Anastasia couldn’t help the giggle that came flooding from her mouth. “D-dad,” she laughed. Like a contagious disease the laughter caught on, Alex let out a baby giggle and Mr.Andrew lost all composteur cackling at the sound, opening his eyes to his daughter's bright smile. “I appreciate it old man, I needed that”

“Of course Sparky,” He stood, the chair squeaking from the release of his weight. The large man stood straight, being mindful of the T.V that hung above his head, he leaned over to pick up the pudding cup before putting it in his pocket. “So, let me see my grandbaby,” He made soft grabby hands while walking towards the bed.

“Here you are, his name is Alex,” she felt slightly guilty that Oliver would not be the first person to hold his son, especially with the person he hated most being the one standing in the room with her. “He’s so small compared to you” She smiled, admiring the joy on her fathers face, “Happy to be a granddad?”

“You know, when I held you for the first time, you were even smaller,” He said with a smile, looking as if he would cry.

“That was a very long time ago,” Anastasia committed taking a bite out of her food

“Naw that was only a few years ago,” He rocked Alex gently before setting him in the small crib, he made silly faces at the child before turning his head to his daughter “Where is he?” His demeanor suddenly became dark and serious.

“Uh, he’s uh,” she could see the rage behind her father's eyes at her missing husband. Oliver I’m so sorry she felt bad. “He was at a gala, I did try calling him,” She flinched at the wave of anger that flooded from the man.

“BASTARD HOW DARE HE,” The large man raged, and the earth shook slightly from his outburst. He only stopped when he heard the waile of Alex. “Oh baby, shhh, it’s okay love, no need to cry,” he hushed “I will always be there to protect you and your mother,” He gently rocked the crib successfully calming the baby. “I’ll be taking you home today, and if I see Oliver, now I will be having a talk with him,” Fumes came from his nose, “face to fist.”He punched his palm to emphasize on his sentence.

“Dad seriously it’s not that bad,” she tried to reason, fearful for her husband's safety.

“No, it is,” he leaned and gently kissed Anastasia's forehead, “I left your mother alone they day you were born and look what happened,” He gesture to her missing presseance “I refuse to let you be alone, especially on the greatest day of a parents life,” He smiled down at her, “Let's get the check up over with and go get some ice cream,” He called for the nurse and removed the tray from Anastasia’s lap.

“Dad, are you sure you know what you’re doing?” Anastasia stood outside the car rocking Alex in her arms, “because it looks like you’re struggling” She commented on her father attempting to put a carseat in. “here, i’ll just go grab a nurse or something”

“GOT IT,” a cheer of success was shouted as Mr.Andrew stood from his hunched position. “Alright, get the snot in and let's get ice cream,” He watched as she loaded the baby in and then sat with him. “Here let me,” He took the seat belt from her hand and buckled her in.

“Thanks Dad,” she smiled at him as he closed the door and ran around to the other side to get in. “Alrighty, let’s go.”

“Honey, where are your keys?” Mr.Andrew stood at her front door, searching in the baby bag for them while trying not to spill the ice cream cone in his mouth.

“Check the small pocket on the left side,” She unbuckled the carseat, careful of the sleeping Alex still sitting in it.

“Found them, hold on I’ll unlock it then come get you,” He quickly unlocked the door, set the bag down on the small rod iron table by the door, swallowed the rest of his cone, and ran to assist her. “Allow me,” with ease he took the carrier in one hand and picked Anastasis up with the other. “Good?” she smiled and only nodded in response .

Once settled on the couch surrounded by every pillow found in the house and stuffed animal, Anastasia could finally truly relax. “Thank you Old man, really,” she smiled seeing her father sitting on the floor next to Alex’s baby bouncer.

“Of course hon, it’s always a pleasure when I get to see you,” He looked up from the baby to stare at his daughter “Especially since our interactions are so little,” He could see the tears forming in her eyes and immediately felt bad for making her cry. “H-hey I’m just teasing honestly,” He got off the ground quickly, making his way to the couch.

“N-no because you're right,” she stood to hug him, “I promised h-him I would stay away b-ut” She sobbed into his chest “That-ts not fair to you, you or me,” She loved her father deeply. He was the only parent in her life. He spoiled her but made sure she understood the values of a human life. After getting married to Oliver, interaction with her dad was practically a sin.

“No, no, Anastasia, we both know my work is not for the faint of heart,” He embraced her tightly, trying to keep all the disappoint of reality away “It was for the best, I just hate that he’s not the one who's here,” He began rocking back and forth, swaying to an imaginable tone. “I’m always here for you, no matter how long we’ve been apart.”

“I'M SO SORRY,” She wailed, every second of this, she hated. Why was her dad here, the one who was supposed to be killing people not saving them. Where was her hero of a husband at. She wanted to scream, yell but she took a breath, settling her heart “Ironic huh?” she whispered,

“What is dear,” he leaned lower to hear her.

“How you, a mass murder is here, taking care of his daughter and grandkid” she took a deep breath, “While my husband, a hero, is gone nowhere to be found.” tears were free to fall as she swayed with her father. Taking deep breaths to calm her enraged heart.

“I guess it is huh? But you know better than anyone that I’m a hero, a true one,” He pulled away slightly to look at her tear stained face. “I don’t kill for fun or pleasure, just like I trained you,”

“You kill those who threaten other lives,” She whispered, looking at the floor, “Humans are special creatures, each one is priceless,” slowly raising her head to meet her fathers stare

“Until they take another life,” He finished, “I get rid of those who believe it’s okay to kill someone, I myself am worthless now but it’s a small price to pay,” He gently petted her hair, soothing any flyaways. “But to keep you safe, every life is worth it,”

“I love you old man,” she smiled looking up at him,

“And I love you my little spark” he let a tear run down his cheek, cherishing this small moment as he knew the time was limited.

The front door slammed, startling the two relaxing in the living room and causing the baby to cry. “ANASTASIA,” a panicked voice called but got no response, “ANASTASIA PLEASE ARE YOU HOME?!” desperation is the only way to describe Olivers tone,

“Olive? I’m in the living room.” Anastasia called to her worried husband, getting up off the couch to meet him with a hug.

“Ohh my wife is missing,” Mr.Andrew mocked the man, even flaring his arms in a dramatic manner.

“I-is someone with you?” Oliver asked jogging into the living room. He froze when he saw the large man sitting on the sofa, with a baby in his arms. “R-roger? You,” He practically growled at the man, “Put. My. Son. Down,” he got into a fighting stance, preparing to force the man out of his house. He watched as Roger handed you the baby before cracking his neck.

“Oh, yes your son,” Roger stood to his full height, “Yes, yes the one who’s birth you missed,” with a quick step Oliver was pinned against the wall, Roger holding him by his throat, there was no strain as Roger continued his talk “Leaving my daughter alone, and having to call me a Villain,” He smirked as Oliver tried to wriggle out of his grasp.

“Dad, Put. Him. Down,” Anastasai said, never taking her eyes off of him. “Please, let's just talk this out,” Roger only nodded, lowering Oliver's body so he could stand on his own feet.

“Anastasia, we had an agreement,” Oliver felt betrayed in a way “you promised,the hell?” He stood frozen against the wall.

“WHO DO YOU THINK YOU ARE?” Roger roared, the earthing shaking with his scream, he was about ready to kill the man right where he stood. He took a quick look at his grandson, who sat in his mothers arms and decided against it. “You have no right to make a claim like that,” Roger fumed. He stepped back allowing Oliver to relax his shoulders slightly.

“Oliver..” Anastasaia’s voice was dark and venomous, “I called him because you weren't there,” She looked directly at him, he shivered at her stare feeling as if she was looking at his soul itself. “You promised you’d be there but you weren’t,” she huffed gently, rocking Alex.

Oliver was quickly dropped to his knees, putting his head to the floor. He knew he messed up, missed something amazing. He could not fix this but he was determined to try, he loved his wife with his entire heart but his career also held a special place in him. “I can not express the regret and guilt I’m feeling,” He let tears run down his face, landing on the tan carpet beneath him. “Please, w-what can I do to fix this?” He looked up hoping for a reaction from his wife but he was met with the bottom of Roger’s shoe which sent him flying a second later. He hit the wall with a loud thud and the cracking concrete was heard. Oliver let out a cough that held a little blood in it.

“Could start with letting me beat the ever living..” Roger huffed not finishing his sentence due to the young ears present. He watched as Anastasia rushed to help him out of the wall,

“You can start by taking a week off and helping me with Alex,” She grabbed one of Oliver's arms helping him up, while still being mindful of Alex in her other arm.

“Yeah,” He wheezed, “Sounds like the least I could do,” He quickly wiped his mouth before realizing the little life she was holding was reaching out to him. “I-is this him?”

“Yes, this is Alex, our son,” Anastasaia smiled as her husband gently embraced his son, holding him close to his chest.

“T-thank you,” He hick-uped softly, looking at his wife and smiling before dragging her into a group hug. “You truly are amazing,” for the first time since the start of the gala he felt true bliss, basking in the light of his wife and his newborn. He took a glance up at Roger, he stood there with a smile but his eyes held a different emotion. One Oliver couldn’t pinpoint but he knew whatever it was, was aimed directly at him.

“I think I'll take my leave now,” Roger announced while walking towards the small family. He opened his arms for his daughter, who was quick to join him in a hug. “He won’t save you, you know that,” He whispered into her ear, making sure to keep his voice low so Oliver could not hear. “He will save the world before he saves you,” He kissed her forehead before bending lower to hear her response.

“I’ll bet you then,” She matched his tone. “If there is ever a day where he doesn't save us, I’ll come home back to you,” that peeked Roger interest, she had practically agreed to leave with him.

“You got yourself a deal, sunshine,” He smirked, pulling away and shaking her hand.

“Deal? What deal?” Oliver questioned staring at the two while burping Alex.

“Nothing, I was just leaving,” Roger bid his last goodbye and left out the door, making sure it closed and locked behind him.

“What deal Anastasia?” Oliver asked, wanting to know what exactly happened.

“Don’t worry, he’ll never win,” her smile faded slightly when she looked at his sad face “trust me my love, All is well” He only nodded and smiled at her.

“I truly am sorry, I never meant to hurt you like that,” He set his son in the bouncy chair and brought her into a deep embrace. “I promise, I will make it up to you somehow.”

“I’m just happy you’re home safe and sound,” She returned his tight embrace and dug her head into his shoulder. “Let’s sit for a minute, Alex has been dying to meet you,” She smiled as his face lit up like a flame.

“That sounds fantastic,” he gently dragged them to the floor near Alex. Oliver could only smile as he watched his son babble at his mother.

“OLIVER, PLEASE, I UH I,” Anastaisa huffed into the phone, “I’m running to the hospital, A-Alex stopped,” She felt like puking, the car had refused to start and there was no time to call for a taxi. Alex had awoken with a high fever well over 101℉, Anastasia had tried everything to lower but it refused to budge. “His Fe-fever is high and he’s breathing funny,” She continued pushing, making sure to avoid any large dips in the concrete to prevent the stroller from going off tracks. She refused to give into her body's fatigue, “I-I’m almost there, If you cou-could meet me there?” She’s been trying to get in touch with her husband for the last two miles. She’s trying to maintain her own breathing while making sure her nine month old was still breathing . Her movements completely halted when she heard wheezing from the front of the stroller, she quickly went to the front, seeing her son's face a shade of purple that sent her into panic mode. “A-Alex, hold on,” She looked around for anything, an idea that could help, “Screw it,” with a huff she unbuckled him from the seat and cradled him safely on her shoulder. “I’m so sorry, but the stroller is too slow,” She whispered her apology before taking off in a sprint towards the hospital. Being careful of his head she ran as fast as she could, Guess training pays off she thought. Another couple miles and the hospital was finally in view, ringing was coming from her pocket but she ignored focusing solely on the task at hand. “Almost,” she encouraged herself to finish the trek. Finally, dogging cars through the parking lot and practically jumping all the steps that led to the door, “HELP PLEASE MY SON,” She called into the familiar waiting room.

“Mrs.Wilson?!” The nurse who had helped deliver Alex was sitting at the front desk.

“ P-Please, He’s,” dripping in sweat Anastasi tried to catch her breath, “h-he’s not breathing,” Quick to action the nurse called for him to be brought back, and an oxygen mask was put on him assisting him in breathing. “ Please, I,” she felt embarrassed, sitting here in her house wear, no make-up, and drenched in sweat.

“Mrs.Wilson, breath please, We will take care of him,” Her arms found Anastasi with ease and brought a familiar comfort. “I will take you back to a room, I promise he will be okay,” She then led her into an empty room a little down the hall, making her sit on the bed in there. “Let’s take a breath, please,” the nurse instructed Anastasi to breathe in then slowly release it. “You are a fantastic mum,” She rubbed her back gently, “I’m assuming you ran here on your own?” Anastasi only nodded, still trying to regulate her breaths.

“I- I was so scared,” Her confession in the form of a whisper, “He was w-wheezing and the car wouldn't start, so,” She looked up at the nurse.

“You ran several miles to get here, and in the nick of time too,” A doctor walked in interrupting the duo's conversation. He tapped his clipboard three times, “Truly amazing Mrs.Wilson, any later and this would be a serious issue,” The doctor smiled a calm and comforting smile.

“H-he’s okay? What happened?” Anastasia stood meeting the doctor half way,

“He’s doing much better, we got him on oxygen and gave him some medicine to help with the fever” He gently grabbed her hand as the nurse rubbed soft circles on her back. “As for the issue with his breathing, it seems that he is asthmatic,”

“Asthmatic?” Anastasia knew her mother-in-law was asthmatic but Oliver wasn’t, Must have skipped a generation her mind settled at the good news. She let out a soft sigh before looking at the doctor so he could continue.

“Yes, but it is very common for young children especially if it runs in the family,” He reassured her, “I recommend getting him in to see a specialist so they can prescribe him with an actually one but for the time being we, we will issue an emergency inhaler,” He let go of her hand and looked to the nurse, “Please get her a glass of water then take her back.” With a nod of confirmation, he left out the door and back into the halls.

“I- thank you, thank you so much,” Anastasia looked at the nurse, teary eyed but smiling non the less .

“Of course love, let's get you settled,” She smiled. Guiding her further into the hospital's halls.

“Hello, I’m here for Alex, Alex Wilson,” Heavy breath came from Oliver's lips. He had left right after work to join his wife, not even bothering to change out of his uniform.

“Oh Mr.Wilson, welcome,” The check-in lady smiled up at him, “You can find him in room 1313 on the 13th floor.” She handed him a visitor sticker and pointed him in the direction of the elevators.

“Thank you,” He stuck the sticker onto his hero uniform and followed the lady's directions to the elevators. After weaving between doctor, nurses, and other patients he arrived at his son’s room. “Anastasi, I-I’m here,” He pushed open the door calling for her, his words were halted when he saw her laying in bed sleeping, with Alex nuzzled on her chest. Her hand unconsciously patting his back.

“You’re late again,” A deep voice sounded from the window seal area. A man appeared, dressed in a suit and glasses covering his face.

“Who are you? And why are you here?” Oliver was cautious but in order to not draw attention kept his voice low.

“Names Kage, I’m Roger’s right. hand. man,” He smirked as a look of fear crossed Oliver's face, “He sent me here to check on her, one of his minions saw her running here and just wanted to be safe,”

“Does she know this?” Oliver nodded his head towards the bed where Anastasia slept peacefully.

“No, no and she won’t, because you’re not gonna dare tell your wife,” He made a fake pouty face, patting his fake eyelashes “That you let a villain protect her again, right?” His face broke into a dangerous smile. “Well now that you’re here I’ll be on my way,” He jumped up and stood on the window seal, “Can’t wait to tell boss it took you 5 hours to show up,” He chuckled before sliding open the window and jumping out.

“Damn it, stupid Roger,” Oliver huffed and glared at the window for a moment before heading towards the bed. “Anastasia, Anastais, My love,” He tapped her shoulder multiple times, “B-baby,” he huffed as the only response he received was a soft snore.

“I would let her rest, she’s been worrying for the last few hours,” The nurse announced her presence, scaring Oliver causing him to jump slightly. “I’m glad you actually showed up to this event,” the nurse scoffed at Oliver’s offended face before gathering some trash that was lying about the room. She stopped, trash bag in hand and held it out to Oliver, “ the woman who took care of your wife when she was pregnant, and the one who delivered your son,” she let him take the bag then walked out the door just as quickly as she had arrived.

“I- I had work,” He tried to argue but stopped seeing as she was long gone. Man the whole worlds against me He huffed before taking a seat in the chair closest to the window, I miss 2 measly events and suddenly I’m the bad guy He observed the room, taking in the small details, like how Anastasia favorite food sat on the counter or how there was a stuffed animal dressed in his super suit. How much have I missed? He sighed, dragging his hands across his face before running them down his neck. Is everything really that important? Or is Anastasia just dramatic. He removed his hands from his face and ran them up and down his knees a couple of times before grabbing his phone from his pocket. He scolded through his emails, reading some he had marked as important and deleting spams.

“Oliver? What,” Anastasia awoke slowly sitting up, cradling Alex to her chest to prevent him from falling, “What time is it?” She gently rubbed her eyes with her free hand, allowing them to adjust to the dim light of the hospital room.

“Hey love, it’s five-thirty,” He looked up from his phone and offered a forced smile. “How’s everything?” He set his phone down on the small table next to him, setting his full attention on her.

“Where uh Where were you?” She looked at him, completely ignoring his question, “I made sure to call when,” Her eyes sharpened as she registered the time, “I called you when you were doing paperwork,” She stood up, setting Alex down and securing him on the bed. “I called you hours ago,” She walked towards him like a predator who’s captured her prey, “Why are you so late?”

“Honey, you know I had work,” He rose and smiled at her “You’re overreacting and being unfair here,” He argued for his innocence.

“You know I would believe you, honestly I would,” She practically hissed out her sentence. “But, I called your Office, “ His eyes widened, questioning what in the world he would have been doing. “Your lovely secretary told me you were doing paper work all day?”

“Anastasia, they were important incident reports, I needed to get them done before I left,” He argued, matching her eyes with the same harsh glare, “You know how important my work is to me.”

“Yes, which is why I call WHEN YOU’RE DOING FREAKIN PAPERWORK,” She roared, scaring Oliver and causing him to stagger back slightly. “I mean, come on,” Anastasia was filled with rage, “there are other heroes you know? They can help out with the work too,” huffed into his face before backing away.

“I’m sorry,” He still stood there in shock at his normally calm wife's outburst. She looked just like her father, and the air was so deadly, He shifted uncomfortable looking at his wife, “I- I uh I’ll take a week off to help with,” He took a deep breath, “Help with Alex,”

“You can’t keep showing up after the fact,” She turned her back and made her way to the door

“Where are you going?” He was quick to follow, afraid she might walk out completely,

“Relax, I’m going to get the nurse hun, so we can go home and talk,” Anastasia turned to face her husband, making sure to grab his hand, “We will be okay” she kissed his cheek, then descended down the hall in search of a nurse.

“I’ll make it up to you, I promise,” He couldn’t take his eyes off her figure, whispering the promise. Maybe I’m the one underreacting. He sighed, turning back into the somewhat empty room. “Okay little guy, Please stop ruining my marriage” He made his way over to the bed where his boy layed. He stared down at the small figure smiling as Alex slept, swaddled up in a blanket. “Oh my baby boy,” He gently ran his hand over his head, “I promise, I’ll make this right with your mom”

“WARNING WARNING FIRE DETECTED,” A blaring alarm sounded through the hospital, “WARNING WARNING,”

“COULD THIS DAY GET WORSE?” Oliver yelled out in annoyance over the blaring alarm before quickly moving to cover his son’s ears. “Shh Baby, Let’s get you to mama,” I’m sure she’ll be back any second

“OLIVER!” Anastasia came rushing into the room, a small pair of earphones in hand, “I grabbed these for him,” She quickly placed them on the baby’s head and took him from Oliver's hands. “I found a nurse but the alarm went off.”

“Stay here, I’m gonna go see what’s going on,” He rubbed her shoulder and went for the door,

“What no, babe we’ll just evacuate,” Anastasia also began for the door,

“Hon, I’m sure it’s just a false alarm,” He smiled at her before pointing to his head, “Hero's Instincts,”

“Okay, I trust you,” She held the baby closer and nodded.

“I’ll be back, once I do a perimeter check,” He kissed her head before running out the door and down the hall.

“He’s wrong you know?” Anastasia jumped at the sudden voice from behind her. It didn’t take long for her to recognize it.

“Kage, w-what?” She was puzzled by the appearance of her once babysitter. “Why are you here? Is dad here too?” She smiled, Maybe he came to visit me and Alex.

“Sorry sweet thing but your old mans not here today,” He brushed over her other question simply smiling at her. “We do need to leave relatively soon tho love, that fire is real,” He gently tugged at her arm, leading her towards the door.

“What, no no Oliver said it was a false alarm,” She stood her ground adjusting Alex slightly. “His hero instincts said so,” She gave him a small smile

“Yeah, well what does your gut say?” Kage asked, Rule #1 only trust your own gut He sighed thinking about the first rule he ever taught her.

“I-I’m not a hero so it doesn't matter,” She took a deep breath, Oliver would never lie to me. She removed herself from Kage’s grip and went to sit on the bed.

“Please Hun, we really need to go,” He walked towards her, trying to reason, Damn stubborn Andrews “Anastasia, Please,” He was willing to beg if it meant getting her out of here.

“Leave me Kage, If something really is wrong I can save myself,” Only sinking deeper into the sheets

“FINE,” He huffed, walking towards the window, “Save yourself then Doll,” He opened the curtains then the window before diving out Seems like Deja Vu.

“He was just being protective,” Anastaisa cooed at Alex slightly bouncing him, she waited patiently for any type of new but nothing came.

“Why are you trusting Oliver,” Another voice came from the room, this time it was softer, younger, and far more childlike. It had a honey like tone, “He’s lied to us so many times,” A small girl walked from within the shadows. Her face, hair, and eyes were oh so familiar to Anastasia. “Remember when he promised to take us to that Gala? Or A honeymoon after our wedding?” She continued, walking towards the bed. Her smile slowly faded with each step.“Or when our dream of a family finally came true? ” She glanced at Alex and the once sweet tone turned bitter, “WHERE WAS HE?” She screamed, causing Anastasia to jump.

“WHO ARE YOU?” With the scare she stood, ready to defend Alex.

“Who am I? Who are You, Dad raised us better,” The voice was now right in Anastasia's ear but yet no one was there, “Wake up please, before you get us killed,” like a quick breeze the voice was gone, faded into nothing.

“T-The hell,” She was shaking, tears were streaming down her cheeks yet she didn't remember them forming. Us? Dad? Killed? Who was the girl? She went to stand when a loud cracking noise was heard from above her. THE FIRE, I knew it. It was like she had snapped out of a daze, her rose colored glasses suddenly turned to gray. She was quick to move as the roof slowly began to crumble. It must have started at the top floor and made its way down. She quickly facinded the baby carrier on her back and set Alex inside it. “We have to get out of here,” She cursed herself for her ignorance. “Why wouldn’t I evacuate, I’m such an idiot,” She huffed making her way down the long hallway. As she passed each room, each one was empty, not even a nurse could be seen.

“IS EVERYONE OKAY?” Oliver called out to the group of people in front of him. He had small burn marks all along his clothes but his skin was still untouched. I think I cleared everyone out. He smiled at his good work.

“SIR WE ARE MISSING PEOPLE,” a women cried

“What, who? I checked every floor,” He argued

“My Husband, Please” she grabbed onto his arm, “He’s still please,” She cried

“Okay, Don’t worry I promise I’ll save him,” He ran back into the burning hospital, Covering his mouth to avoid inhaling the dark smoke, “HEY, IS ANYONE HERE,” he frantically searched for the man, moving tables and chairs to get a clear view.

“OVER HERE, PLEASE, I'M STUCK,” An old scratchy voice came from somewhere in the smoke filled room.” Oliver grabbed his phones from his pocket, quickly turning on the torch to illuminate the room.

“Hey, man I’m gonna get you outta here,” He made quick work in removing a chunk of the ceiling that had surely crushed the man's right leg. “Up you go old timer,” He gently heaved him up onto his back,

“WAIT,” the old man screamed, huffing from the smoke, “A woman a-and her baby are still in there,” He pointed inward a little. “She has this dark brown hair,” He tried to remember the women he had seen while rushing down the stairs.

“Anastasia,” Oliver whispered, staring down the hall. He went to set the man down but halted. What kind of hero risks someone's life for selfish desire? He breathed and tightened his hold on the man before running towards the exit.

“WAIT WHAT ABOUT HER?” clingy to Oliver the old man voiced his concern,

“I have to save you, I’m sorry” His tone was soft, sorrowful.

“Are you going back for her?” As they made it out of the hospital both took a breath of the much fresher air.

“I-I should, yes,” He went to move. But what kind of man lets his wife die? He was stunned, Surely she wouldn't die right,

“THERE SHE IS,” The old man cheered seeing the silhouette of the women running towards the exit. Oliver smiled in relief,

“Anastasia,” He could move, seeing his wife so close to safely allowed a weight to be lifted. He could feel his feet begin to move back towards the burning building . “ANASTA..,” the sound of cracking interrupted his call. Looking right above her figure he saw the only exit begin to crumble.

“OLIVER, HELP” she called voice ruff and smoke filled. He froze, all motion stood still as he watched the ruble fall, successfully trapping her into the building

“NO, ANASTASIA” falling to the ground, He felt faint, like he was going to puke. The people around screamed, begging for him to get up and help. But he was left immobile on the hard asphalt. His thoughts began to flood his mind, canceling out all noise around him. What if I went looking for her, what if I agreed and she had evacuated. He sat on the ground while watching the building burn. “No,no no PLEASE,” He howled pounding into the ground, creating a crack in the asphalt. “ANASTASIA,” He took a sharp inhale “ALEX” laying his head to the ground he sobbed, why, why.

“Mr.Wilson” the soft voice of the nurse called for him. It was a nice change compared to her tone earlier. “Mr.Wilson, please you’ve been out here for hours.”

“I’m sorry,” Hours? Oliver refused to move his head, I’ve wasted hours out here but I would’ve only taken a minute to save her. His soft whimpers sounded so faint, as if his vocal cords were all used up.

“Mr.Wilson, please” The nurse dropped to the ground next to him, gently taking his body into her. “Please love, breathe, I know,” His body shook in her hold, “I know baby, I know,” She gently began rocking back and forth, humming a lullaby. Her attempt to comfort him did little to help. She watched as the once noble hero sobbed his heart out on the floor.

“It’s all my fault,” he took a shaky breath, “If I only listened and actually showed up when it mattered,” He felt so broken, so incomplete. Would things have been different if I had actually shown up? He lifted his head, looking directly at the sky. Would she be here scolding me for the burns? He held his arm up above his head, staring at the burns that littered his hand. Must have been when I rescued the old man. His arm dropped back to his side, scraping against the asphalt on its way.

“Oliver Wilson,” the nurse’s voice was demanding, as if she was scolding a small child. “Sir, You need to get up, your wounds are severe.” She grabbed his unburned hand and made an attempt to bring him up with her. “Please sir, for Anastasia you need to survive,” She tried to reason.

“I want to join her,” Harshly pulled his arm away, he remained on the floor, eyes still aimed at the sky. “My son, my wife, what reason do I have to remain here?” He whispered, expecting to receive no answer.

“BECAUSE YOU ARE A HERO,” The nurse screamed, standing up over him. “YOU LOVED YOUR JOB SO MUCH THAT YOU PUT IT ABOVE HER!” harshly grabbing him and forcing his eyes onto her. “You played hero when you should have been playing husband,” She huffed, tears streaming down her soot ridden face. “So at the very least,” letting out a soft sob, “You can dedicate the rest of your life to being a hero.” releasing with a soft shove back, she wiped her tears refusing to look at Oliver. “Amend for the mistakes you made, by never making them again,” making her way towards the small medical area to retrieve some bandages for him.

It’s been four years since the incident, and nothing has changed. The rain fell, running down the Olivers office window. I miss them everyday, but I can’t stop not now. He looked down at the newspaper that sat on his desk. Right on the front page he stood with a bright smile. Four years since my biggest mistake, my biggest regret. A strike of lightning illuminated the sky, so ingrained in his thoughts, he missed the shadow that appeared with it. As fast as the lighting had appeared the figure was gone with it. “DAMN HERO WORK” ripping the paper from the desk, holding it near his face. “DAMN ME!” Tearing the news to shreds, he allowed the paper to fall to the floor making a large mess. “Damn me” He whispered, collapsing to his knees, leaning his head against the desk.

“Poor, Poor pitiful you” A deep voice called from behind him. He took a glance behind him but before he could react, was met with a large hammer that sent him flying through the glass window, shattering it on the way. The world started to fade into black as he fell from the top of the building. The wind rushed through his ears and hair causing even more insanity in his mind. The only thing he saw was a silhouette of two people, one with a hammer resting on their shoulder and the other with their white teeth twisted into a smile.

“Oliver? Oliver, are you okay honey?” A caramel-like voice called out to him. It was smooth and rich, almost like he could hear the sugar in it. “Oliver, Hun you have Work” His form was now being shaken, rather aggressively. “OLIVER” The voice screamed.

“Hu-huh what!!” His eyes shot open, searching the room for a second. He was met with these gray greenish eyes. Focusing his attention on the owner of the eyes, staring deeply into them. “A-anastasia?” He slowly sat up, his eyes refusing to leave hers.

“Yes love? Are you feeling okay?” She put her hand to his forehead, feeling his temperature. “You are a little sweaty,” Anastasia removed her hand wiping it on the blue apron she was wearing. “I'll get you a cooling cloth,” Making her way towards the door.

“NO WAIT!” He sat up getting out of bed, rushing to hug her. “P-please, let’s just lay down,” he stood there for a second before walking backwards towards the bed. Making sure to never remove his arms from around her. He sat them both on the bed, keeping her close. “I’ve missed you,” He huffed, digging his face into her neck. A bad dream, it was all a bad dream. The fire, the death all just a nightmare.

“Aww love, You were only in France for a week,” She placed her hands in his hair, soothing the bed head he had.

“Oh,” France? He rested there for another second before moving to look at her. “Where is Alex? Is he okay?” Eager to see his son again, he glanced behind her looking at the door. Strange, that's new. His eyes focused on the familiar picture that showed their first vacation together, hung right across the hall. I thought our wedding picture hung there? She must have put it up recently, Man I’ve really missed a lot. He focused his attention back on Anastasia, who had a look of pure confusion.

“Alex? Who’s Alex?” With a light tilt of her head, she questioned the mysterious person her husband talked about. “Is he a friend of Yours?” She smiled, interested to meet a friend of Oliver.

“No,No love,” He chuckled softly. “Our child, remember? Alex?”

“C-child?” A bright smile overtook her face, “You want kids?” she blushed and giggled. “Well I think that’s a wonderful idea but maybe wait a little longer” She placed her forehead to his, kissing his nose. “Speaking of, where are we going for our honeymoon?”

“H-honeymoon?” Oliver pulled away, “W-what? Where's Alex?”

“Honey Alex doesn't exist, at least not yet” She continued to rub his head. “Are you okay, seriously love our wedding was last week, kids seem a little ambitious”

“Last week, no no baby you must’ve hit your head, Our 7 year anniversary is coming up,” feeling around the bed, he looked for his phone. “Have you seen my..?” Before he could finish Anastasia was holding up his phone. “Ah thank you,” He quickly unlocked it by pulling up the calendar. “See it’s December 18,” pointing to the phone. December 18? Looking back at the phone, just to double check. No, no way, It was November 11 last I checked. Running a hand through his hair letting out a shuddered sigh. What the Hell is going on?

“Maybe you need rest, love,” She got up and assessed him by laying him back down on the bed. “I’ll grab you some medicine,”

“Y-yeah, that sounds amazing,” He nodded, smiling up at her, “thank you,” shifting to get into a more comfortable position, he allowed his body to rest but his mind stayed alert. Where am I, Think Oliver. He stared blankly out the window in the room, How did I get here,

“I’ll be there in a second love,” Anastasai called from the kitchen.

“Alright,” Just this morning, I was knocked out a window and a few years ago my wife Anastasia died along with my son Alex. He looked down at his hands, they shook slightly. But- uh now she stands right in front of me, with no knowledge of our son. Looking up to the sound of footsteps, W-was I kidnapped,

“Here’s the medicine,” Along with her was a tray of his favorite food and a cup of..

“Coffee?” He looked cautious at it. “I uh don’t drink coffee anymore,” staring at the cup which was a deep brown almost black color, “You- You know that Anastasia,” Hesitantly he looked up at her with a forced smile.

“Oh sorry,” Anastasia smiled, it seemed bitter as if he had angered her. “I thought you would remember how I made your hot chocolate, you know with 100% cocoa,” looking down at him, letting out a hiss-like sound.

“O-oh, no… I love this,” He smiled softly, still staring at the cup. It’s been so long since I've had this.

“Oh well, that’s strike one,” Anastasia whispered.

“Wha…” Oliver was met with a wicked smile and a cackle.

“That’s okay, lets just RESTART,” With a yell, a hammer was brought down onto Oliver’s head, knocking him out cold once again.

“Oliver? Oliver? Love, please.”

There's that voice again. Oliver slowly opened his eyes, this time being met with a white ceiling. “W-where am I?” He looked around catching the same gray eyes, ones he could stare into for hours.

“Oh love, are you okay that was quite the fall,” Anastasia ran her hands over his head gently.

“Indeed Mr.Wilson, seems like you have a concussion,” A man in a white coat walked into the room, in his hand he held a simple clipboard but his glasses looked so familiar. “Lucky, You should be out before the gala tonight,” He smiled softly looking at the couple.

“Yeahh, you’ll be able to attend tonight,” Anastasia gently grabbed Oliver's arm in excitement. “Aren’t you excited?”

“G-gala, I-uh-I thought it was our honeymoon?” Oliver continued to look around the room. No, I know she was just talking about our non-existent honeymoon. He focused on the calendar that hung in the corner of the room. April 12… What’s going on?

“Love, our honeymoon was over 2 years ago, remember?” She chuckled softly “We didn’t even go on one,” stopping her hand in his hair, “You might’ve hit your head harder than we thought.” Her grip tightened slightly.

“Y-yeah, maybe,” He moved his hand up to his hair, gently removing her hand. This, this isn’t my Anastasia. He smiled at her, encasing her hand in his. I can feel it.

“Well, we can do one final check up and you should be out of here,” Making his way closer to Oliver, clipboard still in hand. Reaching into his pocket he pulled out a set of gloves.

“Oh thank you Doctor,” Anastasia eagerly pounced in her seat. “See honey, that fall wasn’t so bad,”

“W-what exactly happened?” Oliver was still confused on how exactly he got into this situation.

“Oliver, you’re scaring me,” looking up at the doctor, “You, you fell out the window of your office building,”

Window, window? “DAMN IT” as quickly as he could he stood up from the bed. “STAY AWAY FROM ME!” He slowly began backing up towards the room's door.

“Oliver, what is your problem?” Anastasia also stood, confused by his sudden behavior. “D-doctor Kage? What's going on?”

“I don’t know, b-but we gotta get him under control,” Kage pushed Anastasia behind him, protecting her from any movements that Oliver could possibly make.

Kage, Kage? He racked his brain, trying to find where he had heard that name before. “Roger's right hand man,” Oliver whispered, looking at Kage to see any type of reaction. The way Kage’s eyes widened slightly was all the confirmation he needed. “It is you,” Oliver started, eyes wide. “A-anastasi? What are you doing,”

“That’s strike two,” She pushed Kage behind her, facing her husband head on. Her damsel in distress act faded completely. “I’m sorry Olive, but you keep screwing up,” Huffing, she launched herself at him. Aiming to punch him but was quickly blocked by Kage.

“Anastasia, the Plan” He reminded her, gently pushing her back. She turned with a huff, collecting herself. With her back turned, he only saw her hands doing little motions.

“Right, Right.. Of course.” After another deep breath, she turned back around. “My apologies dear, but we need to restart,” One more time, that’s all we can afford.

“W-what does that mean,” Oliver stood ready, “No more of that stupid hammer.” He argued, taking a server of his area, keeping an eye on both Anastasia and Kage.

“Awww but that’s the best part,” She pouted, looking up at him with puppy dog eyes. He hesitated, looking at her face, one she would make anytime she wanted something.

“No.. No more hammer,” Oliver huffed, making his tone stern.

“Fine by me Hero,” The deep gruff voice was all he heard before his jaw was crushed in and he was sent flying into the wall. At impact the wall shattered, crumbling under the sheer force of his body. Oliver stuck in the wall for a moment before falling down to the ground, he wheezed coughing blood. He held himself on his hands and knees, desperately trying to catch his breath. “Oh, still have some fight?” The same voice called before he sent Oliver’s head through the floorboard.

“D-dad, careful with him,” Anastasia kneeled down over Oliver's body, using both hands to lift his head. “Yep he’s unconscious,” She ran her finger to his neck, checking his pulse, “But not dead.”

“Why? He’s just some fake hero scum,” Roger kicked the man’s unconscious foot. “Let his son die and almost lost his wife.” The room's air suddenly turned heavy as Roger realized he had said that out loud.

“Do NOT mention Alex,” Anastasia hissed, aiming the end of her hammer at his head, “ever” Roger put his hands up, sweat running down his neck while he slowly backed away from her.

“I’m sorry,” She lowered her weapon slowly, staring into his eyes.

“Apology Accepted” Her smiling face returned before she skipped towards the door, “Kage, Dad, get Oliver and set up for scene three,” She giggled leaving the two grown men in a cold sweat. Oliver, you got one last chance, please don’t screw up.

“OLIVER, OLIVER I NEED ASSISTANCE!” Sitting up with a start Oliver looked around. He was back in his master room, sitting in the bed. “OLIVER!” He quickly removed the blankets and ran out into the living room. There sat on the ground was Anastasia, cradling a small bundle of pink blanket. “Sorry love, but Beatris is fussing,” She pointed towards the kitchen, “and Alex is out, so could you please grab me her bottle,” He stood there, dumbfounded.

“Uh-” He knew something was wrong, he’d felt like he was in a fever dream. No, No I won’t be fooled again. He smacked himself a couple times, trying to straighten his mind. Is this real or, or just another act? He began to breathe heavily, Do do I fight or. He was having a panic attack, his mind could not decide whether he should fight the woman he loved, or simply continue to live this fantasy. He crumpled to the ground, hyperventilating causing him to see stars. “A-anastasia, Please,” He sobbed, gripping the ground so hard his finger began to bleed. “Please, n-no more game’s, tell me what happened,” smacking his head into the ground repetitively, “WHY *smack* WHY *smack* WHY!” his head was bleeding at this point, it slowly dripped onto the flood. “WHERE DID IT GO WRONG!” He screamed, aiming to slam his head again but he was stopped by two soft hands. Anastasia was now in front of him defending his head from the brutality of the floor. Oliver’s breath hitched, he quickly looked up to meet her eyes. There she sat in all her glory, tears in her eyes as she watched her husband's merciless attack on himself. “You are my Anastasia, I know that now,” allowing his head to rest in her hands. He inhaled deeply, settling his mind for an instant. He had made up his mind.

“I’m sorry, I wanted to make you suffer,” She let out a soft sob, “Suffer like I had to, all these voices kept talking to me.” Anastasia stared at her husband's blood ridden face. “Y-you didn’t save us, a-and” watching as one of his hands came to wipe her tears. “I- I couldn't save him,” Collapsed into his chest. “I WATCHED YOU LEAVE US” she sobbed gripping his shirt. “I HATED YOU BUT YET I STILL LOVED YOU” Anastasia shook with both anger and heartbreak.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I hate myself too,” Oliver held her close. “N-not a second goes by that I don’t regret my whole existence,” He quickly buried his face into her hair. “I-im sorry you had to suffer alone, I’m sorry I was never there,” Oliver let out a soft sigh, “I’m sorry I couldn’t save you and I’m sorry I couldn’t save him,” He was heartbroken but yet sitting here with her in his arms made it a little more bearable. He didn’t care if she hated him, wanted him dead, he just wanted her here in his hold. “Hit me, kill me, keep me in this time loop, whatever you want, just please, don’t leave me.”

“No, no more games, I uh I think my play time is up,” Her breath had begun to steady and her sobs had ceased. She gently smiled into his chest, I’m home, home at last. Pulling away from him she gently grabbed his face and brought him into a soft loving kiss. “I love you my Oliver,” She giggled at his small blush. Brushing away any left over tears, before meeting her eyes to his.

“And I love you my beautiful Anastasia” He sighed a content smile taking over his face. Ever since that fire, Oliver only regretted one thing more than not saving Anastasia, and that was allowing her to suffer alone for so long.

“Mama, Is dinner ready?” A child's voice called as the front door shut. His small footsteps were heard running through the house. “Oh dad, you’re home.” Alex ran to join his family in the small huddle on the ground. His small arms could barely wrap around his father so Oliver moved to wrap him in their hug.

“Hi baby, I’m home, Home for good” Oliver kissed his son's head and cradled him close to his chest. Anastasia smiled, enjoying this small moment, knowing many more where to come. Maybe this fantasy life won’t be so bad.

“So she went through with it?” Kage asked, watching as his boss kneeled by the two bodies that laid on the ground. Kage had never seen his boss cry, the big man seemed unbreakable but yet Every man has his, He watched as Roger gently picked up his daughter's limp body, tilting his head and saying a soft prey for the girl he once raised.

“Grab him, we should give them a proper burial,'' gesturing towards Oliver's body, which sat with a peaceful smile on his lips. Roger made his way out of the house still holding his head high even while tears ran down his face, landing on Anastasias’s beneath him. “May you have all you’ve dreamed of” He whispered, lifting her body to lay a gentle kiss to her head. “My beautiful baby girl.”

My Student Spirit × Major Grom crossover

Олег Волков умер. Сергей отчаянно сжимает в руках злополучную бумагу, насквозь пропитанную слезами. Его тело всё ещё трясётся, глаза смотрят вдаль, не видя ничего, и он словно всё ещё ощущает знакомое прикосновение, эти родные пальцы в его волосах. Рука тянется к непослушным прядям… Ничего. Некому больше взьерошить ему волосы, поправить чёлку, похлопать по спине, поддерживая в трудную минуту, держать за руку, когда страх сжимает горло… Рука сама находит лезвие, словно во сне, ведь что есть жизнь, если рядом больше нет его.

...

Ухмылка Птицы становится ещё шире, когда он наконец триумфально распрямляется, держа в руках волчий кулон. Так вот где ты был всё это время… Взгляд скользит по блестящей металлической поверхности, когда внезапно руку с кулоном накрывают призрачные голубые пальцы. - Э-э-э, не так быстро! Птица лишь звонко смеётся и вертит украшение в руке, словно дразнясь. - Ты ведь не можешь его коснуться, правда? Он встречается взглядом с холодными голубыми глазами призрака. В них плескается чистая ярость в перемешку с едва заметным отчаянием. Птица же словно и не замечает этого, наигранно невинно улыбается и подкидывает кулон вверх, ловя в самый последний момент и крепко сжимая в ладони. В ответ на это Волков лишь злобно скалиться, словно раненый зверь, загнанный в угол.

AU где Олег погиб в Сирии, а его дух оказался привязан к волчьему кулону, который он перед отъездом оставил Серёже на память. Птица может видеть призраков, потому что он сам мистическая сущность. Он скрывает от Разумовского факт смерти Волкова и начинает искать способ избавиться от последнего, чтобы тот не сумел испортить его планы. Однако всё рушится после того, как Серёжа находит документы о смерти друга и пытается покончить с собой. Птица спасает его, и в последний момент Серёжа успевает увидеть Олега. Но уже поздно, и Птица нашёл, как избавиться от бывшего наёмника…

Снег отчаянно хрустел под ногами. Стремительно вечерело. Безмолвным зверем Вадим бежал в гущу леса, пытаясь добраться до поля. 

Уходящее солнце окрашивало дорогу во все оттенки алого. Вадим ненавидел закаты. Сердце в такие мгновения болезненно сжималось в ожидании того, что в обычные дни не имело бы значения. Одна маленькая записка, кривые злые слова и он вновь желает быть быстрее света. Только бы успеть, только бы все было неправдой. Только бы уткнуться в родные плечи, схватить и навечно вплавить в себя. 

Там, куда мы идем, нас пока нет - часто шептал ему Игорь, смотря прямо в глаза так любяще, так тепло. Вадим отмахивался от этой романтичной чуши. Были эти смазливые слова для него неправильными. Сейчас же, он бы все отдал, лишь бы успеть ответить, сказать нечто большее, ëмкое.

Через неделю собирали общак. Звонко пели весенние соловьи, тропинки между заборов проседали в скользкие лужи. С проснувшейся Казанки дул промозглый ветер. Вадим зябко кутался в свое пальто. Он белой вороной выделялся среди универсамских пацанов - бледный, сгорбленный. Всей разномастной компанией стояли возле закрытого гроба.

Желтый с натянутым интересом рассматривал соседей. Вот, прямо у ямы толпятся школяры, недалеко от них задумчиво курил Турбо. Еще один универсамский затерялся где-то ранее, по пути до. Что-то нещадно скреблось внутри глотки, когда взгляд цеплялся за Адидаса. Знакомый траур прослеживался в скукоженной у ямы фигуре. Вадим злился, что почти ничего не знал об общем Игоря с ним прошлом.

Проклятая крышка отгораживала его от полного понимая последних дней. Казалось, будто он до сих пор мог проскочить по знакомой до боли дороге. Окунуться в напевы Синатры, схватить чужие ладони и смотреть беспрерывно в родные черные омуты. Бесконечно шептать и шептать ему всякую чушь, окрыленную чувствами. Но сейчас, под его холодными пальцами, под тонким слоем ржавой липы уходила часть его жизни. Половина.

Вадим опустился поближе к стенкам, уткнулся лицом в жесткие доски. Губы тихо шептали последние слова. Там, куда мы идем, тебя больше нет. Видимо, начал слегка моросить дождь. Отпускать не хотелось.

Вадим не чувствовал сотни рук, оттягивающих его от промокшего гроба. Не помнил того, что было дальше. Как словно чужая его дрожащая рука бросала горсть, как ехали потом все в одном в автобусе. Как зашел потом к себе на кухню и сидел, сидел, сидел. Как прошли часы, быть может дни. Как возле него мелькала Наташка. 

А потом, незаметно, во дворе зазвучала кукушка.