#slow build

[matthsluv]

magnets — adrian chase oneshot

synopsis: you knew this universe would be different. you just didn’t expect to hear your own voice calling adrian “babe.” now there’s two of you, two of him, and way too many feelings you’ve been ignoring.

pairings: adrian chase x f!reader (reader is implied poc. see post for more details about it) tags: friends to lovers, slow build, mutual pining, slowburn, fluff with a bit of angst warnings: mentions of injury and blood, brief references to violence, canon typical violence word count: 15, 980 ── crossposted on ao3

a/n: hello everyone, i highly suggest reading the post regarding the reader. i hope you enjoy reading and also, i made a spotify playlist for the fic. i suggest listening to it while reading :D magnets | adrian c. playlist

Instead of staying with Economos and Leota, you had decided to tag along with Adrian on his quest to find his so-called “other me.” You’d called him ridiculous, because, well, he was. But curiosity won out. What would another Adrian even be like? Smarter? Colder? Maybe less prone to talking about animal facts?

You didn’t know what you expected, but it definitely wasn’t this.

Because now you were standing in the middle of his secret room, the alternate-universe Adrian’s secret room. And the weirdest part? It was almost identical to the one you knew. Same cramped walls lined with gleaming weapons, same smell of metal and disinfectant hanging thick in the air. The only real difference was the absence of the stacks of cocaine and money shoved between shelves.

If it weren’t for that, you might’ve thought you were back home.

And then there were the two Adrians. 

They faced each other like a live-action Spider-Man meme, each pointing, tilting their heads, speaking in the same cadence, so much so that you burst into laughter because of how ridiculous this was. 

The “other Adrian” froze mid-point and looked at you with wide eyes.

“Wow,” he said, grinning, “you laugh exactly like her!”

You blinked, heat creeping into your cheeks. “Like… your me?”

“Yeah!” Other Adrian said brightly, as if this was the most normal conversation in the world. “Uncanny. It’s like you cloned her laugh and just dropped it in your throat.”

“Okay, weird phrasing,” you muttered, still smiling despite yourself.

Beside you, your Adrian was practically vibrating. “See? He gets it. You’re basically the same here too, which makes sense, because we’re basically the same, and that means we can totally trust each other.” He gestured between himself and his double like it was a done deal.

“Adrian,” you sighed, pinching the bridge of your nose. “You can’t just trust… yourself. That easily.”

“Why not?” he asked, genuinely baffled.

“Because—” you gestured vaguely toward the other one, “you don’t know him. Just because he’s you doesn’t mean he’s actually you.”

“That makes no sense,” both Adrians said at the exact same time, which only made you laugh harder.

Your Adrian grinned and leaned closer, as if he’d just landed the winning argument. “If you trust me, you trust him. Or, well, me. And him. Us.”

Other Adrian nodded enthusiastically, pointing at him. “Exactly. Finally, someone who understands how logic works.”

You groaned. “God help me, there’s two of you.”

One Adrian, you could handle. Barely. But two? That was like standing in front of a broken fire hydrant, water blasting out in every direction, and you had no choice but to sit down and let it drench you. So you sat down on the couch and watched the chaos unfold in front of you.

They were babbling at each other like kids comparing trading cards. What the best Pokémon is, random facts about animals, bizarre facts about themselves. The conversation ping-ponged so fast it was almost dizzying.

And while they rambled, you studied them.

Up close, the similarities were almost unnerving. The posture, the restless hands, the way their voices lifted with enthusiasm even when the topic was wildly inappropriate, nearly identical. Even their Vigilante suits were the same, down to the stitching pattern. If you squinted, the only obvious difference was the glasses. Your Adrian’s frames were silver and rectangular, sharp edges catching the light. The other Adrian’s were gold and round, softer, almost old-fashioned.

Which was the problem.

Because if this Adrian really was just like yours… then maybe, despite your better judgment, he was trustworthy. But then the other Adrian casually dropped the bomb.

“I fucking hate that guy.”

The words hit you sideways, sharp enough to cut through their endless stream of chatter. You turned, brows raised. “Wait, what?”

Other Adrian’s mouth twisted, and for the first time, his expression carried something darker than gleeful energy.  “I’ve dedicated my entire life to tearing down everything he stands for.” 

You opened your mouth to press, what exactly did that mean?, but didn’t get the chance.

Your Adrian jumped in, instantly defensive, insisting Peacemaker was his best friend, his other half in the field, two peas in a pod. His voice rose with each word, equal parts pride and exasperation. Alt-Adrian, however, was unshaken. To him, Peacemaker wasn’t a friend. He was an archenemy, the entire reason he’d joined the Sons of Liberty in this world.

That gave you pause. Because if Adrian hated someone this much, there had to be a reason.

You were slowly connecting the dots. From what Chris had told you, his father and brother were alive here, and not just alive, but thriving. All three of them, working together, some kind of untouchable trio. And the name Sons of Liberty… it wasn’t exactly subtle. You just needed confirmation.

You leaned forward, pulse quickening. “Okay,” you started, voice steadier than you felt, “Elaborate. Now. ‘Cause clearly somethings wrong–”

Alt-Adrian drew in a breath, like he’d been waiting for the chance to finally explain. His mouth opened, the words forming already, something heavy enough to split the room in half—

“Babe?”

The sound sliced straight through the air, through your skin, down into your ribs. A single word, but your body recognized it instantly. The cadence was familiar, achingly so. Familiar in a way that made your stomach flip.

Your head snapped toward the doorway before you could stop yourself. For a moment, you thought maybe you’d imagined it, that the weirdness of this world was finally unraveling you but no. The voice carried again, closer this time, playful and casual, the way yours sometimes was when your guard slipped.

“Babe, you in here?”

It was your voice.

Your voice. Calling Adrian babe.

You’d expected differences here. Of course you had. You weren’t stupid. But you hadn’t expected this. You hadn’t been braced for a version of you who spoke words you couldn’t even imagine saying out loud. You’d let your guard drop because both Adrians were so alike, because their sameness made you feel almost safe. And now this felt like the floor giving way.

It wasn’t just your voice. It was your voice, laced with a kind of closeness you’d always denied yourself, something you’d only let surface in the quiet, private corners of your mind. To hear it now, out loud, was unbearable.

Your Adrian went still, so still you could almost hear the gears in his head grinding to a halt. For once, the constant hum of chatter that usually spilled from his mouth was gone. Nothing but silence, wide eyes darting from you to the doorway like he was stuck in some bizarre nightmare he couldn’t logic his way out of.

And then she stepped in.

Her.

You.

Or rather, another you.

The sight of her nearly knocked the air out of your chest. Same face, same frame, same sharp lines in the brow and curve of the mouth, but different, too. Her hair was cropped shorter, cut uneven, like she’d taken scissors to it herself without much care beyond getting it out of her way. And though the outfit she wore was almost uncanny in its similarity to what you would’ve thrown on back home, there was a weight to it here. A sharper edge. As if the clothes weren’t just clothes but armor, built for the kind of world she had to walk through.

Beside you, your Adrian hadn’t moved. His expression was open shock, every emotion flickering across his face in real time: disbelief, wonder, confusion, and something else you couldn’t quite name. His mouth worked, opened, closed again. He looked from you to her like his brain was stuck in an infinite loop of error messages, trying and failing to reconcile what he was seeing.

“What the f—” you started, but her voice cut across yours, a perfect echo.

“What the fuck?”

Her hand was already moving before the words even finished leaving her lips. A gun appeared, drawn smooth and fast, barrel locking on you like she’d done it a hundred times before.

Your body reacted without thought. Muscle memory. Steel flashed in your grip, your own weapon raised and sight trained on her just as quick. Two of you, perfectly matched, mirrored down to the way your fingers curled tight around the trigger.

Your Adrian made a noise that sounded suspiciously like a squeak, then tried to cover it with a nervous laugh. His hands shot up, palms out, like that would do anything against two barrels aimed so steady it felt like the air itself froze.

Alt-Adrian? He looked delighted. Absolutely beaming, like this was the single greatest thing he’d ever witnessed. He pointed proudly between the two of you, grin stretching wide.

“See!” he exclaimed. “Exactly the same!”

The other you didn’t lower her gun. Her eyes flicked from him to you, sharp and skeptical, voice cutting hard through the room.

“What the hell is going on?”

Alt-Adrian lifted his hands, palms out, as if he could soothe the tension right out of the air. His grin didn’t falter.

“Babe, it’s okay. Calm down. I mean—look at them! It’s us! You trust me, right? You trust yourself. So why not trust the other-universe us?”

You frowned. “You can’t just trust them because they’re us, Adrian.”

Your Adrian let out a sharp gasp. “Oh my God, she said the same thing! You’re right, they are the exact same!”

And before you could even process, both Adrians were practically bouncing, talking over each other, grinning like idiots.

“This is awesome—”

“—so awesome, babe, we’re literally synced—”

“Do you see this?!”

“Exact same brainwaves!”

Your pulse was still hammering, your gun still raised, and you finally snapped, in unison with her, voices overlapping so perfectly it was eerie:

“Adrian!”

Both Adrians stopped at once, blinking, then broke into twin grins like that was somehow proof they’d won the argument.

Your eyes cut to her at the same time hers cut to you. For a moment it was like staring into a warped mirror—same impatience, same irritation simmering under your skin, same quick calculation sparking behind the eyes.

Then, at once, you both spoke.

“What the hell is Sons of Liberty?” you demanded.

“Who the fuck are you and what are you doing here?” she snapped.

The words tangled in the air, clashing hard enough that you both fell silent, studying each other like you could peel back the answers from each other’s faces.

You tightened your grip on the gun still angled low by your side, not quite willing to holster it yet. “I asked first,” you said, sharper than you meant to.

Her mouth pulled into a humorless smile, though it didn’t reach her eyes. “Cute. Doesn’t work that way here.”

You exhaled sharply through your nose. “Fine. We’re from a different universe. We’re here to get our Peacemaker.”

Her face scrunched, disbelief flickering across her features. “You’re friends with Peacemaker?”

You rolled your eyes. “Look, whatever he is in this universe, he’s not that bad in ours, okay?”

Alt Adrian frowned, visibly confused. “So he’s not a Nazi asshole?”

You blinked. “What the fuck? No! He’s just a normal asshole.”

Then you turned back to her, lowering the gun just a fraction. “Now what the hell is ‘Sons of Liberty’?”

Alt Adrian stepped forward and explained how “Sons of Liberty” was the only real resistance left in a world where the Nazis had won. His words hit hard, each one making the pit in your stomach deepen. You’d seen it on the way here, hadn’t you? Not a single person of color anywhere.

Your stomach sank as realization hit. Peacemaker’s father, who in your world was already a walking manifesto of bigotry, wasn’t just alive here. He was one of the ruling trio. The face of the regime.

It made a sick kind of sense. Your Adrian had explained how the American’s won WW2 to which Alt-Adrian replies with:

“You must live in, like, a utopia?”

You and your Adrian exchanged a look. One that said absolutely not.

“Uhm,” he started.

“Not exactly,” you finished.

And the truth hung heavy between you. Because as much as you wanted to laugh it off, say of course we’re nothing like this place, some part of you knew better. Things weren’t this bad in your world. Not yet. But it was close enough to sting. The cracks were already there: the headlines that blurred cruelty into policy, the quiet hate that no one called by name, the way it all felt just a little colder lately. Different, sure, but starting to hum the same tune.

Alt Adrian went on, voice quieter now. He told you that everything anyone had here. Their safety, their comfort, their power, it all came at the expense of everyone else. Outsiders, he called them. They’re all forced to toil away in camps their entire lives. And he just couldn’t stand by and watch it happen.

As he spoke, you caught movement out of the corner of your eye. The other you had finally lowered her gun. Her posture stayed sharp, but there was something fragile in her face now. An ache is buried beneath the hardened edges. Her gaze flickered toward the floor, then away, jaw tightening like she was fighting to keep herself composed.

Your Adrian nodded solemnly. “Yeah. That’s kinda how I feel when somebody does graffiti. That’s not yours to draw on.”

You exhaled through your nose, finally lowering your gun. “Adrian,” you said tiredly. “That’s not the same at all.”

Both Adrians were sitting down, side by side, as Alt-Adrian finished explaining what the hell was going on in this universe. A beat passed before it hit you and your Adrian at the same time.

Your heads turned in sync.

“Adebayo,” you said in unison.

“Who’s that?” the other you asked.

“We came here with someone who’s… technically Black,” your Adrian said.

“Technically?” she repeated, disbelief sharpening her tone. “Like, you can’t tell?”

“No, you can fully tell. That was like one of the first things I noticed about her.”

“Shit,” Alt Adrian cut in, suddenly serious. “Then we'd better move. If they find your friend, you’ll never see her again.”

Your Adrian turned to you with that same ridiculous grin. “See? Aren’t you glad you tagged along with me?”

You shake your head, jaw tight. “We’re lucky no one saw me, Adrian.”

Before he could respond, probably with something catastrophically optimistic, the other you spoke up. 

“Wait.”

Everyone turned. Her voice had that kind of authority that shut down a room, even when it sounded exhausted. She glanced at you, then at your Adrian, then at the window where the light was already starting to dim. 

“You two go first,” she said. “We’ll wait until it’s darker. I’ll find something to cover her. Less chance someone notices.”

You nodded once, throat tight. There was something oddly grounding about hearing your own voice, harsher and more worn, say what you’d been too cautious to admit out loud.

Both Adrians were already nodding, preparing to move, when Alt Adrian suddenly stopped. 

“Wait,” Alt Adrian said, spinning on his heel. He crossed the space in two quick strides and leaned down toward her.

You froze.

He pressed a kiss to her forehead first. It was gentle, almost reverent and then to her lips. And for some reason, the sight of seeing yourself get kissed by Adrian (well, other Adrian) made your heart cave in a little.

“Really?” Alt you said, eyebrows lifting even as the corner of her mouth curved up. “In front of them?”

“What? It’s literally just us,” he replied, grinning like it was the most natural thing in the world. Then he jogged toward the door. 

“Be careful!” she called after him. 

Then it was quiet again.

You stood there, blinking, like your brain needed an extra second to process what you just saw.

Yourself. Kissing Adrian.

It felt like deja vu in the strangest way, like watching a memory that wasn’t yours but still somehow belonged to you. Because sure, it was her, not you, but the way she leaned into it, the way his hand brushed her arm like it was second nature…you could feel the ghost of his touch in your own skin.

You’d never even let yourself think about kissing him. Well, maybe you have, once. Maybe twice. Always in the quiet corners of your mind, where it didn’t have to mean anything. But seeing it now, seeing you do it. Seeing a version of yourself that didn’t hesitate, didn’t overthink, didn’t stop to count all the reasons why she shouldn’t. It made something uneasy twist in your stomach.

It was a reminder. That maybe the only thing stopping you from that version of yourself was… well, you.

You glanced over, half-expecting Adrian to say something dumb to cut through the awkward silence. But he didn’t. He was still staring toward the door where the other Adrian had gone, his face caught somewhere between confusion and something almost vulnerable. When his eyes met yours, the look only deepened, like he wanted to say something but couldn’t quite find the words. The other you was still in the room, watching quietly, and somehow that made it worse, the air thick with everything none of you were saying.

Alt you let out a quiet sigh, shaking her head like she’d seen this play out a hundred times before. You caught her muttering something under her breath before she turned away to rummage through one of the shelves.

Adrian shifted beside you, hesitant for once. Then, without a word, he stepped closer and leaned in, pressing a quick, almost clumsy kiss to your forehead. He then immediately left the room and followed other Adrian. It was over before your brain could even register it, leaving a ghost of warmth in its wake.

The warmth lingered longer than it should’ve, a soft pulse against your skin that you tried very, very hard not to think about. You straightened, tugging at your sleeve like that would somehow fix the weird, fluttery feeling twisting in your stomach.

“Guess you and your Adrian aren’t together yet?” came a voice from behind you.

You turned to find her watching you, arms crossed, one brow raised.

“Yet?” you repeated, choking out a laugh. “Yeah, that’s never gonna happen.”

Alt you snorted, amused, and tossed you a bandana she’d pulled from the shelf.

“Yeah,” she said, smirking. “I said that too.”

You caught it on reflex, jaw tightening. “Just because you and your Adrian are in love or whatever doesn’t mean we are.”

She shrugged, unbothered. “Sure.”

You narrowed your eyes. “We’re not.”

“Didn’t say you were.”

“Good, because we’re not.”

Her lips twitched like she was holding back a laugh, and somehow that irritated you more than if she’d said anything at all. You tore your gaze away, focusing on tying the bandana around your face just a little too tightly, pretending your heartbeat wasn’t still tripping over itself from something as stupid as a forehead kiss.

She handed you a gun and a knife, metal cold against your palms. “Just in case,” she said, tone even.

You nodded, tucking the knife into your jacket and checking the gun’s safety. Then, together, you slipped out of the house. The air outside was colder, heavier somehow, as if the world itself was holding its breath. Both of you kept your heads down, faces hidden beneath the fabric, blending into the shadows as you moved.

For a few minutes, everything went smoothly. Until a door creaked open across the street.

You froze.

A man stepped out, leash in hand, whistling softly for his dog. The animal padded into view, sniffing the ground, with its tail wagging, and both of you ducked behind a rusted car, backs pressed to the metal as the footsteps drew closer.

You could hear her breathing beside you, steady, practiced. She’d done this before.

You, on the other hand, were still trying not to choke on your own heartbeat.

And maybe it was the adrenaline, or the quiet, or the weird ache that had been building in your chest since you saw her kiss her Adrian, but the question slipped out before you could stop it.

“So… how did you and Adrian even happen?”

Your voice was barely above a whisper, curious and cautious all at once. You weren’t sure if you wanted the answer or just needed to fill the silence.

She turned to you, eyes squinting above the bandana. Then, softly, she laughed. “You really wanna know, right now?”

You nodded. “Well, yeah. Looks like they’re gonna take a while.” You tilted your chin toward the dog, who was currently circling for the perfect place to poop.

Her smile curved under the fabric, faint but visible in her eyes. “He saved me.”

Something in your chest tugged, a mix of warmth and bitterness. Ugh. That’s such a “you” way to fall for somebody. You’re such a cliche.

“Cliché, I know,” she murmured, gaze drifting past the car as if she could see the memory playing out there. “We met at Sons of Liberty. He was new then, still figuring out what kind of mess he’d signed up for. I thought he was annoying as hell. Too optimistic for someone in a place like that.”

You could almost picture it: him, grinning, trying to lighten the mood in some half-collapsed safehouse. It sounded too familiar.

“But…” she exhaled, shoulders sinking slightly. “With all the fucked-up shit happening out there, I realized I needed him. And he needed me.” Her voice softened. “We were trying to save one of my family members from the camps. It was supposed to be quick. Get in, get out. But I got hit. Could barely move.”

She paused. For a moment, the world went quiet except for the soft jingle of a dog collar in the distance.

“When the guards found us, they were gonna shoot. He—” she swallowed, “—he took the bullet for me. Should’ve died. But somehow, he didn’t. Crawled both of us out of there.”

You stared at her, throat tightening. “And after that?”

Her eyes flicked to you, a ghost of a smile there. “After that, I stopped pretending I didn’t love him.”

The dog barked suddenly, and both of you froze, pressed against the rusted car until the sound faded. The man tugged on the leash, muttering, and disappeared back inside, leaving only the echo of her words behind.

He saved me.

You tried to reason with yourself. Her world was brutal and survival-driven, especially to people like you. Of course people clung to each other in that kind of place. Here, love wasn’t flowers or quiet moments; it was about who stood between you and death. It made sense that she’d fall for the one who did.

You told yourself it wasn’t the same for you. You and Adrian had met during Project Butterfly. Partners by circumstance, not choice. You’d helped each other because you had to. Him saving you that one time wasn’t an act of love; it was an act of impulse. Maybe duty. Maybe just plain Adrian-being-Adrian, the kind of guy who’d throw himself in front of a bullet without thinking, without realizing the mess he’d leave you to untangle afterward.

But now, seeing this version of yourself talk about him like that. Seeing the quiet conviction in her eyes, something inside you twisted. Not jealousy exactly. More like unease. Like watching someone else live out a truth you’d buried too deep to admit.

Meanwhile, a few streets over, the Adrians were crouched low behind a half-dead hedge, the flashing red-and-blue glow from the cop car painting their faces in uneven bursts.

“Dude, we should just take them out,” your Adrian muttered, squinting through the leaves. “Two quick shots, drag the bodies behind the dumpster. Easy.”

Alt Adrian shook his head immediately. “No, dude. Let’s wait for them. I don’t need another lecture from her about how I don’t think before I act.”

Adrian blinked, then let out a quiet laugh. “No way! She tells me that, too. Like, exactly that.” He tilted his head, a smile tugging under his mask. “Guess that’s… kind of universal.”

Alt Adrian smirked, clearly amused by the symmetry. “See? Isn’t it kinda awesome? You and me, and our girlfriends. Basically the same.”

Your Adrian blinked. “Girlfriends?”

Alt-Adrian raised an eyebrow. “Uh, yeah? Is she not your girlfriend?”

Adrian eased back against the shrub, trying to make his voice casual.  “We’re partners. She’s just one of my best friends. Like, top tier bff. Above Peacemaker sometimes when she’s really nice to me.”

Alt-Adrian chuckled softly. “Woah… I used to say that too not the Peacemaker part, obviously. tBut hey, don’t worry, you’ll figure it out eventually.”

Adrian’s jaw tightened. “Fuck, no, dude. Nothing to figure out. She’s my best friend. That’s it. That’s all we’ll ever be.” His voice had that sharp edge, almost defensive, like he was trying to convince himself more than anyone else.

Alt-Adrian tilted his head. “Okay… but, like, do you feel the need to know everything about her? You know… all the little stuff? Do you feel the need to impress her, all the time?”

Adrian blinked, caught off guard, then muttered, “…Yeah. I mean… yeah.”

Alt-Adrian laughed, a low, teasing sound. “Hah. Then that means you like her.”

Adrian scoffed, waving a hand. “No! I do that with everyone I care about, okay? Doesn’t mean I love her.”

Alt-Adrian snorted. “Dude, never said anything about love. You dropped the L bomb, not me.”

Adrian paced a little behind the bush. “Look, I notice her, okay? I pay attention. I make sure she’s safe, I—damn it, I care. Doesn’t mean it’s… I don’t know… romantic. It’s just… literally part of being a best friend?”

Alt-Adrian tilted his head, smirking under his mask like he’d seen this a thousand times. “Yeah, okay. I get that. But it’s different with her, isn’t it? You don’t do this for just anyone. The way you worry, the way you… I don’t know… notice every little thing about her—it’s not just friendship stuff, man. You feel it differently.”

Adrian blinked, stiffening. “…Feel it differently how? Like, protective? I’m protective of everyone I care about.”

Alt-Adrian snorted. “Sure, maybe. But there’s a weight to it with her, isn’t there? A pull? You’ll figure it out eventually. Took me a while to figure it out with mine, trust me.”

Alt-Adrian’s smirk faltered for a moment as Alt-Reader tapped his shoulder. 

“Figure what out?” she asked, eyes narrowing.

Both Adrians’ hands shot instinctively toward their guns, tense and ready. 

“Oh,” Alt-Adrian said, lowering his weapon with a grin that you could hear even through the helmet. “Just you and… you.”

Alt-You ignored him. “What’s going on?”

Before either could answer, a voice drifted over from the road. One of the cops.

“Saw a Black woman, maybe thirties. Ran off that way. Probably an escapee.”

 The words hit you like a punch. You didn’t even have to think about who they meant. Adebayo.

Your pulse spiked. “We have to find her. Now.”

Alt-Adrian tilted his head, casual as ever. “Or we kill them first, make it easier.”

“Babe, no,” Alt-You said immediately, steady hand on his arm. “Not now. We don’t need that kind of attention.”

You blinked. “Babe? How do you even know that’s your Adrian?”

She shrugged. “You just know.”

You stared at her, but she didn’t elaborate. The silence that followed felt heavy, the kind that hummed with everything none of you wanted to admit.

The cops’ voices faded as they turned the corner, their footsteps echoing until they disappeared completely. You waited a beat longer before stepping out from cover, brushing dirt off your jeans.

Alt-Adrian glanced around once, then started walking. “Well, that was fun,” he said. “So, what else is different in your world? You know, besides Cheeri-Oh’s being spelled wrong.”

Adrian snorted, trailing beside him. “Spelled right, actually. It’s Cheerio’s, with an O.”

Alt-Adrian shook his head. “Not in my world, it’s not. But seriously, what’s different? Like—stuff about you, your life, whatever.”

Adrian hummed, thinking. “Uh, décor’s different. My living room? Three cat figurines on the shelf. Here? Six. Same cats, though, just more of them. A bit overboard, honestly. What do six cats even have to talk about?”

Alt-Adrian barked out a laugh. “Maybe they form a little cult. You know, Cat Council.”

“Oh, yeah. Discussing deep topics like ‘why is the red dot uncatchable’ and ‘how many lives do we really have left.’”

Alt-Adrian nodded sagely. “Important questions.”

“Exactly,” Adrian said, completely straight-faced.

“Exactly,” Adrian said, completely serious. “Also, my dad’s not gay here. And she’s shorter in this universe.”

Alt-Adrian blinked. “What? She’s shorter? No way, really? I didn’t even notice that—that’s so funny and weird!”

You stopped mid-step, giving him a look. “That’s the part that shocks you?”

Alt-You, curious, stepped closer. “Hold on, now I gotta see. Let’s stand next to each other.”

You rolled your eyes but did it anyway, standing shoulder to shoulder. Alt-Adrian leaned forward, squinting between the two of you.

“Dude, you’re right,” he said, grinning. “How the hell did you even notice that?”

Adrian just shrugged, pretending to play it off. “I notice everything about her.”

The words hit you harder than you expected. It wasn’t even what he said, it was how he said it. No hesitation, no irony. Just plain, matter-of-fact truth. Something warm flickered low in your chest before you pushed it down, fast.

“Let’s go, guys,” you said quickly, turning away before anyone could see the look on your face. “We do not have time for this.”

You started walking again, hearing the crunch of gravel as the others followed. Beside you, Alt-You kept sneaking glances your way until you finally sighed. 

“What?”

She grinned, all knowing mischief. “Nothing. Just... that was cute.”

You frowned. “That was not cute.”

Alt-You hummed. “Sure.”

Adrian looked between you two, suspicious. “Wait, what are you guys talking about? You already have inside jokes? How?”

You scoffed. “No, Adrian, we don’t—” You stopped mid-sentence, blinking as the realization hit. “Wait. How did I even know that you’re my Adrian?”

Alt-Reader smirked, crossing her arms. “Told you. You just know.”

Alt-Adrian perked up immediately. “Ooh, maybe it’s like a soulmate thing! Like, across every universe. Cosmic connection, neural link, fate—boom. Like, our frequencies are synced across universes, you know?” He gestured wildly, clearly getting into it. “That would explain everything.”

Adrian’s head snapped toward him. “She’s not my soulmate,” he said, a little too fast. “Matter of fact, I would say Peacemaker is my soulmate.”

Alt-Adrian laughed. “Okay, pop quiz then. I bet Peacemaker doesn’t even know what your thing is when you’re anxious.” He pointed at you, grinning. “But I bet she does.”

Adrian straightened, instantly defensive. “That’s so specific! But you know what? He totally would, because we’re best friends. Soulmates, even.”

You groaned. “Can the both of you shut up?” You looked at Alt-Reader for backup, but she just gave you a look that said, you’re on your own.

Alt-Adrian leaned forward, undeterred. “Fine, but you still have to answer first.”

You sighed, finally relenting. “He, uh… taps his ring finger against his leg. Every time.”

Adrian froze, blinking like he’d just been exposed. His hand twitched unconsciously toward his leg before he caught himself. For a second, he couldn’t even find the right words, just felt this strange, quiet jolt in his chest. You noticed that? 

Something so small, so stupidly insignificant that even he hadn’t realized he did it that often.

He laughed under his breath, a little uncertain, trying to mask the flicker of warmth that came with the embarrassment. 

“How do you even know that?” he asked, pretending it was funny but sounding almost careful.

You just shrugged. “You’re not really subtle, Adrian. Plus, you’re not the only one who notices things.”

Alt-Adrian grinned under his mask like he’d just uncovered a secret. “See! Soulmates, man. You literally know everything about each other, even the tiniest, dumbest little things. Just like me and her.” He jabbed a thumb at Alt-You, still smirking.

Adrian groaned. “Oh, come on, that was really specific, okay? If you’d asked what my favorite food is, or my Pokémon game is, I bet Peacemaker would totally know that.”

Alt-Adrian perked up immediately. “Alright then, let’s test it. What is it?” he said, looking straight at you.

You opened your mouth, then stopped. Because you did know. It was Pokémon Emerald. You’d seen him play it over and over, even letting you play sometimes while he backseated every move, giving commentary on the best strategies, the ideal Pokémon team, and which areas to grind. Every. Single. Time. And his favorite food? Kraft Mac & Cheese, the boxed kind, extra buttery, with that little sprinkle of black pepper he always adds himself. 

But there was no way you were admitting you knew that.

Alt-Adrian pouted. “Aw, c’mon, I know you know it—”

Thankfully, Alt-Reader cut in, smacking his arm. “Leave them alone, you menace.”

The Adrians finally went quiet, grumbling under their breath but no longer bickering. You let out a silent sigh and moved cautiously down the street, Alt-You matching your pace.

By the time you reached the edge of Peacemaker’s property, your stomach was tied in knots. Police cars were stationed along the perimeter, engines faintly humming, flashlights off but their presence obvious. You crouched behind the nearest row of bushes, pressing low.

A movement caught your eye, Adebayo and the Judo Master were pressed into the shadows a few feet away, crouched behind another patch of shrubbery. Relief washed over you. 

“There you are,” you whispered, slipping closer to them.

“What the fuck?” Adebayo blurts.

Adrian holds up a hand, trying to act casual. “Hey. Don’t worry. It’s me. And… other me.”

Alt-Adrian just waves, helmet glinting. “Hey. Nice to meet you.”

Adebayo blinks at you and Alt-You. “Wait. There’s another you too? This is getting really crazy.”

Adrian spots Judo Master, and he stiffens, jaw tightening. Comments on how he hates him and how little he is. You feel that familiar irritation radiating off him.

“Adrian. Chill. We have bigger things to deal with right now,” you murmur, low.

Alt-Adrian squinted and pointed at the Judo Master’s chest. “What’s that symbol mean anyway? Looks like… someone splashed cum on you.”

The Judo Master raised an eyebrow, unimpressed. “Why would you want to splash cum on me?”

Alt-Adrian’s head snapped toward Alt-You. “Fuck! What? I don’t! Babe, tell him I don’t wanna splash cum on him!”

“And if he did, it’d probably just be as a joke.” Your Adrian adds.

Adebayo’s eyes went wide, pointing at you and Adrian. “Wait… babe? Are you guys dating in this universe?”

“I know. Unbelievable, right?” you mutter, ducking a little behind the bush.

“Well… ‘ Adebayo looks at Alt-Adrian and Alt-You. “Out of all the things that are wrong with this universe… that actually makes sense.”

Adrian's hand twitched almost unconsciously, tapping his finger against his thigh. Once. Twice. He caught himself before the third, freezing mid-motion as if suddenly aware of how exposed he looked, even under the mask. He did the thing. The exact little thing you’d apparently noticed countless times before. He shifted slightly, uneasy under the scrutiny of the group, and pressed a mental reset button. Focus. Eyes on the mission. The bizarre, chaotic reality around him made room for no indulgence. He couldn’t afford to dwell on how Adebayo’s comment had brushed against the raw edges of something he’d been pretending didn’t exist. 

You felt a rush of heat, almost embarrassment. All the comments from other you and other Adrian, and now Adebayo? They’re all slowly starting to make sense, but you couldn’t indulge in these thoughts, not now. There were bigger things on the line. Survival, strategy, and keeping everyone safe. You had to keep moving.

Alt-You noticed the shift immediately and gave you a sharp nudge, changing the subject and steering both of you away from the tense intimacy. Behind the bush, the distant sirens and the rustle of leaves reminded you that the real danger hadn’t gone anywhere.

The Adrians and Judo Master, true to form, began muttering again about “handling” the cops. While you, Alt-You, and Adebayo exchanged exasperated glances. Sneaking inside, careful and precise, won out over any rash ideas.

The glass shattered before anyone could blink. Adrian didn’t hesitate. He smashed through the window with brutal efficiency and the world went sideways. Chris’s father went down under the flash of Adrian’s knife, blood hitting the floor with a wet, metallic sound that made your stomach lurch. Chaos erupted.

Cops poured in immediately, shouting and firing, but the Adrians moved like extensions of the same mind. Each shot, each movement, mirrored, complementary and your own eyes couldn’t process it fast enough. Alt-Adrian jabbed, twisted, shot, ducked, all in one fluid motion, and your breath caught at how terrifyingly perfect their coordination was.

You and Alt-You had to match them, had to fight, had to keep moving. Every dodge, every sweep, every counter felt orchestrated, as if you four had danced this deadly ballet a thousand times in some other life. Horrifying. Beautiful. Absolutely horrifying.

You barely had time to think. Adrian went down suddenly, a shot ripped into him as he threw himself in front of you. Two times now, he had saved you, and even amid the chaos, you couldn’t help but wonder if this it was instinct or something more. Your heart slammed against your ribs as you yelled his name, and thankfully, Adebayo was there to drag him toward the trophy room.

Alt-Adrian didn’t miss a beat, spinning and firing at the guy who’d taken the shot, cold, precise, eyes darting back and forth.

“Good one, babe,” Alt-Reader called, grabbing your arm and rushing you toward the trophy room while Alt-Adrian followed, screaming, “Sons of Liberty forever!”

From there, the group moved as one. Every strike, block, and counter fell into place with terrifying efficiency. They overwhelmed Keith, and Chris stepped in just in time to stop the carnage, but the exact details of that were a blur, adrenaline and fear colliding into one endless, violent pulse.

Before leaving, the Adrians hugged. Alt-You gave you a nod, a small smile, and the moment ended as quickly as it started.

Adrian waited by the dimensional portal, muscles tense, looking at you. You didn’t step forward waiting for Harcourt. She had asked for Alt-Adrian for a gun to shoot Keith, but before she could do the cops swarmed the room. The second the cops rushed in, Alt-Adrian and Alt-You didn’t hesitate. Shots rang out like thunder. Adrian grabbed you forcefully, yanking you inside the door, then, without pause, pulled Emilia up and into cover.

Alt-Adrian glanced once, executed a perfect flip, and closed the portal door behind them.  And just like that, you knew you’d never see them again…for a while at least.

Chris had decided to turn himself in, and Adrian was… well, he was bummed out, to say the least. Against your better judgment, you’d decided to stay with him, keep him company. You shoved whatever complicated feelings tangled up in your chest aside, deciding to be a friend first. That’s how you ended up in the kitchen, spooning cocoa into mugs, chatting quietly with his sweet mom.

“Oh, he likes that extra—” Ms. Chase started, nodding toward Adrian’s mug.

You quickly cut her off, scooping four generous spoons of sugar into his cup. “Extra sweet, I know. He’s got a real sweet tooth,” you said cheerfully, forcing the casual tone. Internally, though, your brain tripped over itself. ‘Cause, great—another specific fact you unfortunately know about him. 

Ms. Chase smiled knowingly, sipping her own cocoa. “You know, I don’t even know why he dated that Hardcore girl in the first place. When someone like you is here for him…”

You froze for a split second before laughing softly, shaking your head.  “Oh, Ms. Chase. Hartcourt’s actually nice, don’t listen to him. And also… we’re just really good friends.” You gave her a small smile, trying to keep the line casual, but you couldn’t ignore how much she knew about both of you.

She leaned in conspiratorially, eyes sparkling. “Oh, I know. But he talks about you all the time. Says you always like quizzing him on random animal facts and he absolutely loves it. And he told me, you always laugh at his jokes.And that time you tried to play D&D with him? He couldn’t stop talking about it.”

At that moment, Adrian shuffled into the kitchen. He rubbed his temples like he could erase the conversation by sheer force of will.

“Here,” you said softly, handing him the steaming mug.

“What—fuck, Mom! Shut the fuck up!” he groaned, flopping into a chair, face hidden behind his hands.

“Ah, and he told me,” Ms. Chase continued, leaning a little closer, “that you bite the insides of your cheeks when you’re nervous—oh dear…” she paused, eyes widening as she noticed, “…you’re doing it right now. Am I making you nervous, sweetie? I’m sorry, I’m just—”

You froze mid-bite, quickly pulling your cheeks away from your teeth, cheeks heating up as you forced yourself to stop.

“Mom, seriously! Shut the fuck up,” Adrian interrupted, voice sharp. He grabbed your arm before you could protest and tugged you toward his secret room. “We’re gonna go play Princess Peach in my secret room. Don’t come in!”

You looked at him, caught somewhere between confusion, embarrassment, and the faintest spark of amusement, as he disappeared with you into the secret space.

Inside the secret room, the door clicked shut behind you, muffling the faint sounds of Ms. Chase humming in the kitchen.

“You know,” you said, crossing your arms, “you should be nicer to your mom, Adrian.”

He groaned, slumping into the chair. “No. Fuck her.”

You shot him a look. “She’s letting you live in her house. You’ve got a dead-end job, you almost got arrested, and she’s still, somehow, super nice to you. Be kinder to her, dude.”

Adrian threw his hands up, rolling his eyes. “Well, I don’t want her to live alone, okay? She’s got no one else but me!”

You stared at him, unimpressed. “That’s all you got from that? Be nicer to her, Adrian. Not everyone has the luxury of having a mom as kind as yours.”

He opened his mouth to retort, but something in your tone shut him up. After a beat, he sighed and mumbled, “Fine,” before grabbing his Switch from the shelf and tossing it to you.

You caught it easily, thumbing the joystick as the console booted up. But before you could select a game, you hesitated.

“Do you think they survived that?” you asked quietly.

“Who?”

“Us. Alternate universe us.”

He tilted his head, like he hadn’t really thought about it until now, then nodded confidently. “Totally. Did you not see the flip my other me did? They totally survived that. Plus, other you’s as strong and smart as you are, so…” He gave a small shrug, a rare, genuine smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. “I trust them. I trust us.”

You handed the switch back to Adrian. “Go on, you play. I’ll… watch,” you muttered, curling up on the edge of the couch.

He focused instantly on the screen, thumbs moving deftly, and you found yourself quietly observing him. The way he got absorbed, the little hum of concentration, the way his brow furrowed every time something didn’t go his way. It was almost comforting.

Part of you, the part that normally spun a thousand different scenarios in your head, just wanted to shut the voices off. The “what ifs,” the comparisons, the intrusive “what does he think?”, all of it. Right now, you didn’t want to think. You just wanted this quiet, this mundane moment with him, no alternate universe chaos, no “cosmic soulmates”, just Adrian being Adrian.

You considered asking him what he thought about… well, about the alternate versions of you two, specifically about then dating. But watching him completely absorbed, you realized that he wasn’t thinking about it. Not at all. And why should you? Maybe you’d just settle for this. Whatever this was.

Then, out of nowhere, his eyes flicked up at you. 

“What’s wrong?”

You blinked, caught off guard. “What are you talking about?”

He leaned back slightly, studying you. “Look… I’m not good at, like… telling how someone feels. But you’re pretty obvious when you’re overthinking.”

You raised your eyebrows.

His gaze sharpened. “Your eyebrows get, like… super scrunched up. And you’ve got that frown. Come on, you’re practically radiating it.”

You blinked at him, voice small and uncertain. “…Why did you… you know, kiss me on the forehead back there? In the other universe?”

Adrian scratched the back of his neck, fingers twitching like he wasn’t sure whether to explain or run. “Uh… I don’t know, okay? I just… felt like I had to at that moment. I mean, other me did it, so… I dunno, I did it too. Doesn’t mean—” He paused, running a hand through his hair. “Doesn’t mean anything weird. I promise.”

You raised an eyebrow, “Right…well, the other us are dating. Does that mean we should too?”

“No! Absolutely not! I mean… come on, we’re not them, okay? Don’t—you’re overthinking this. I mean… the fact that our other selves are even dating is crazy, right?” 

“Right.” You said, as your voice tight as you stood up. I get it. You don’t want to date me, Chase.”

Adrian’s head snapped toward you. “Wait! Where are you going?”

“I have somewhere to go,” you said, slamming the door behind you.

Alone, you feel the sting of Adrian’s rejection like a sharp snap in your chest. Embarrassment and hurt twist together, prickling under your skin. You don’t even know what answer you were hoping for, only that it definitely wasn’t that. The words hang there, heavy and impossible to ignore, and you’re left wondering if maybe this is just a universe where you two will never be.

Before you can even reach the door, Adrian’s mom’s eyes flick to you, noticing the tight set of your shoulders and the way your hands tremble slightly.

“Hey, sweetie… you okay?” she asks softly, stepping closer.

You force a small smile, shaking your head just enough to seem casual. “I’m fine, really.”

She doesn’t push further, just gives a warm, knowing smile. “Alright… just know, you’re always welcome here, okay? Don’t let anyone or anything make you feel otherwise.”

Her words linger, a quiet comfort as you steel yourself and head toward the door.

The next morning, your phone is blowing up. Calls, texts, notifications stacking one after another. Most of them are from Adrian, each one more insistent than the last. You ignore them all, leaving the screen to light up in silence on the nightstand.

Then a call comes through from Adebayo. You swipe to answer, trying to sound casual.

“Hey,” you say.

“You okay?” Adebayo’s voice is calm, but there’s an edge of concern. “We’re heading to visit Chris today, and… uh, Adrian’s been complaining to me. Says you’re not picking up his calls.”

You take a breath, trying to keep your voice steady. “I’m fine. Really. Just… busy.”

“Okay… well, I assume since you’re obviously avoiding Adrian, you’re gonna want to ride with me?” Adebayo’s voice is half-teasing, half-serious.

You sigh, exhaling slowly. “Yeah… fine. I’ll ride with you.”

“Alright,” she says. “I’ll pick you up in thirty.”

You hang up, staring at your phone for a moment, feeling the weight of Adrian’s missed calls and your own stubbornness settling in your chest.

Adebayo pulls up in front of your house, the engine idling quietly. You slide into the passenger seat, and for a moment, the car is swallowed in silence.

“…So,” Adebayo starts cautiously, eyes on the road, “…you wanna tell me what’s going on?”

You shake your head, trying to keep your voice light. “Nothing’s going on, Ads. I’m fine.”

She hums, unconvinced. “Uh-huh… so, totally nothing to do with your alternate universe selves dating in their universe, and you and Adrian not dating in ours?”

That’s it. Something snaps inside you, heat rushing up your neck. “I said I’m fine!” you burst out, voice shaking, eyes stinging. “Just—just drop it!”

You lean back against the seat, trying to catch your breath, but the frustration and hurt are still raw. Adebayo glances at you, silently giving you a moment, her hands steady on the wheel, letting you crash out without saying a word.

You sink lower into the seat, cheeks burning as the heat of your outburst fades. “I… I’m sorry, Ads,” you mutter, voice quieter now, remorse creeping in. “I didn’t mean to snap. It’s just… everything’s been so messed up, and seeing them… seeing us… it—it threw me off.”

Adebayo glances at you, and you continue. “Do you even know how weird it is? To see yourself, literally yourself, kiss someone?” Her eyes flick toward you, sharp. “Worse… kiss someone you’ve been denying your feelings for?”

Adebayo keeps her eyes on the road, one hand steady on the wheel, the other tapping lightly against the center console. “Yeah… that would fuck me up too.”

“And I just don’t get it,” you confess, voice almost cracking. “I mean… me and Adrian in their universe? We’re literally the same! But they… they talk about each other so—so differently. With so much love, so much care. And in this universe… I get rejected by Adrian?”

She sighs. “I know you’re hurt and I get it. But you know Adrian! He can be a bit… stupid sometimes. He just needs time to figure out how he feels.”

You shake your head, biting the inside of your cheek. “Look, I get it. Alt me and Alt-Adrian… they have very different circumstances. But it’s not just that. It’s like… I see what they have, and I know what we have or what we could have and it feels like the universe is teasing me. Like, I get a glimpse of something real and… and it just quite literally slams the door in my face here.”

Adebayo’s grip on the wheel tightens just slightly, though her voice stays calm. “Look, I promise you. He’ll figure it out. And if he doesn’t? That’s his loss. You don’t need Adrian to be whole, okay? You’ve got yourself. You’ve got brains, guts, and more heart than half the people in this city combined.”

You glance at her briefly, the words hitting harder than you expect. She keeps her eyes on the road, steady and unwavering, but her voice softens just a touch. “Don’t let some messed-up version of him, or any version, make you feel like you’re missing something. You’re more than enough on your own. And trust me… the right people, the ones who really see you? They’ll get it. They’ll see it.”

You swallow, nodding slowly, trying to absorb it. The car hums around you, the steady rhythm of the tires against the asphalt grounding you in the present. Somehow, Adebayo’s words manage to cut through the chaos in your head, offering a quiet reassurance that maybe, just maybe, you can survive this heartbreak and still come out the other side intact.

The car pulls up outside the prison, the building looming gray and unwelcoming against the morning sky. Chris, unsurprisingly, refuses to see anyone. 

Adrian’s complaints echo across the parking lot, loud enough to make a few passersby glance over. You step up beside him, hand lightly on his arm. “Adrian, calm down. Let’s just go.”

He grumbles but lets you steer him toward the car. Outside, the cool morning air does little to soothe the tension. Adebayo leans back, eyes on you. “You riding with him?”

Adrian exhales sharply, running a hand through his hair as he climbs into the driver’s seat. 

“Yes,” he says, his voice low but firm, “she’s riding with me.”

You give Adrian a pointed look, but get in the car anyways. The car falls into an uneasy silence, the kind that presses against your ribs. Neither of you speak for a moment, the tension thick between the occasional click of the turn signal and the soft rumble of the tires on asphalt.

Adrian shifts in the driver’s seat, clearly trying to distract himself or maybe you with some random knowledge. “Uh… so, did you know manta rays… like, they actually sleep upside down sometimes? And they can, get this: store water in their fins to breathe later when they’re out of the ocean. So cool right?”

You keep your gaze fixed out the window, silent, not even a twitch of acknowledgment. Which you are aware is very petty but right now, you don’t care.

He glances at you, then back at the road, shifting in his seat. “Okay… cool. No fun facts today. Got it.”

A few more miles pass in tense quiet before he exhales, gripping the wheel a little tighter. “Look,” he starts, voice softer now, “I’m sorry, alright? I’m gonna be honest, I’m still not exactly sure why you’re upset, but I know you are. And I don’t like it when you’re mad at me.”

He glances at you again, hesitant, almost boyish in the way he waits for some sign you’ll respond.

“Okay,” you say at last.

He glances at you, hopeful, a little grin tugging at the corner of his mouth. “Does that mean… you forgive me?”

You shake your head lightly, letting a small smile slip through. “No, that’s why I just said ‘okay, Adrian.’ I acknowledge what you said, though.”

His grin grows, a mix of relief and excitement. “Okay… but do you acknowledge it enough to convince you to come to my place and watch stupid ’80s horror movies with me?”

You cross your arms, giving him a look. “What do I get out of it?”

“Uh… the joy of my company?” he tries, wincing the second he says it. “No, wait—okay, that sounded arrogant. You get… snacks! I’ll get all your favorites. Popcorn, Twizzlers, those weird chips you like that taste like feet—”

“They do not taste like feet,” you protest, laughing.

“They totally do, but that’s okay, I’ll still buy them,” he says quickly, a grin tugging at his mouth. “Because I care. Deeply. About your weird snack choices. And also about you not being mad at me anymore.”

You try to hold back your smile, but fail. “You’re really laying it on thick.”

Adrian throws one hand off the wheel dramatically, eyes wide in mock desperation. “Look, Peacemaker’s gone, and I don’t want my other best friend to be mad at me, okay?”

You snort. “Other best friend?”

Adrian gasped like you’d just insulted his honor. “Yeah, other best friend. Don’t get jealous, okay? There’s room in my emotional support system for both of you.”

You rolled your eyes, biting back a smile. “Wow. I’m so honored to be your othr best friend.”

“So…movie?” 

You sighed, pretending to think it over before finally giving in. “Fine.”

Adrian’s grin split wide, triumphant. “Hell yeah. You’re not gonna regret it, unless you hate decapitations and bad practical effects.”

You step inside Adrian’s house, greeted by the warm, familiar scent of baked goods and something vaguely cinnamon-y.

“Hi, Mrs. Chase,” you say, smiling politely.

“Hi, sweetheart! So glad you’re back. I told Adrian off yesterday, you know? You can’t let a woman you care about just leave upset—”

“Mom!”

Adrian opens his mouth again, clearly about to say something rude. You glance at him, expecting the worst, but he exhales, shaking his head. 

“We’re gonna watch a movie in my room, Mom. Don’t come in, without knocking.” 

Mrs. Chase tilts her head, a knowing look crossing her face, while you shake your head at the insinuation. Adrian just shrugs, clearly unbothered, and leads you toward his room.

Adrian’s room is a weird, cozy blend of chaos and nostalgia. The walls are plastered with posters, classic rock bands from the ‘70s and ‘80s rubbing shoulders. A cluttered bookshelf, that’s crammed with game cartridges, comic books and well-used nitebooks.

Adrian’s bed is unmade, sheets a deep teal color rumpled across the mattress as if he’d left in a hurry or just didn’t care enough to fix them. His shelves are crowded with Pokémon figures, some dusty and some clearly handled daily. 

On his desk, an old handheld console rests next to a random doodle, and a small Polaroid of the two of you together is taped to the wall above, slightly crooked. You pause for a moment, caught off guard by it. Something about seeing the two of you captured like that makes your chest tighten.

Adrian catches your gaze lingering on the Polaroid and quickly snatches it down, tucking it awkwardly into his pocket.

 “Hey, don’t just stare at that,” he mutters, a little defensive.

You raise an eyebrow, trying not to smile. “Relax, man. I have my copy on the back of my phone case.”

He freezes for a beat at your words, a flicker of something soft passing through his eyes, but he quickly shakes it off, pretending it doesn’t affect him.

You both settle onto his unmade teal bed, the handheld console abandoned on the desk as the opening credits of a cheesy ’80s horror movie roll. The music is overdramatic, the acting hilariously bad, and you can’t help laughing at some of the more ridiculous scenes. Adrian throws a popcorn kernel at you, smirking when you dodge, and for a moment the tension of the past few days melts away.

As you laugh, you catch yourself thinking that maybe it’s okay that this is all you’ll ever be with him—his friend, his confidant, someone he trusts enough to share silly, unguarded moments with. And yet, there’s a quiet ache underneath that realization, a small part of you wishing it could be more. But for now, the warmth of his presence, the ridiculous movie, and the simple comfort of being here feels enough. You let yourself sink into the moment, allowing yourself to just be with him without expecting anything else. 

The movie continues, laughably bad and over-the-top, and at some point, Adrian reaches over and nudges a stray popcorn kernel toward you. You catch it between your fingers, laughing quietly, and he cheers at your small victory. 

Adrian shifts slightly on the bed, catching the subtle weight of your head leaning closer to him. You’ve fallen asleep. For a moment, just a heartbeat—he feels it. The pull that Alt-Adrian had talked about. It’s there, quiet but undeniable, in the warmth of your shoulder against his, in the sound of your laughter mingling with his when the movie hits another absurd moment. It’s something deep, magnetic, and way too real.

He exhales slowly, forcing a small smile as he stares at the screen. It’s not that, he tells himself. It’s just… comfort. Familiarity. A friend thing. He shifts a little, careful not to wake you, and keeps the thought boxed up tight. Because, sure, maybe his chest feels a little lighter when you’re close, and maybe your head fits perfectly against his shoulder, but that doesn’t have to mean anything.

You let out a soft sigh in your sleep, your warmth seeping through the thin fabric of his sleeve, and Adrian swallows down the lump in his throat. He tells himself it’s fine, normal even to care about someone this much. It’s what friends do. Best friends, even.

The movie flickers across the wall, all bad effects and cheesy lines, but he barely sees it. He just sits there, steady and still, pretending that the quiet thrum in his chest is nothing more than comfort. Platonic. Harmless.

And if, for a second, he lets his head rest lightly against yours, well no one has to know.

The living room at Hartcourt’s place felt quieter than usual once she left, her heels clicking down the hallway a moment ago and the door shutting softly behind her. You, Adebayo, and Economos remained, the tension of Chris going missing still hanging thickly in the air.

Adrian leaned back against the couch, fingers tapping his knee. “If I were Chris… where would I go?”

Adebayo crossed her arms, frowning. “He’s probably holed up in some cheap motel, avoiding everyone.”

You let out a long sigh, rubbing the bridge of your nose. “Look, guys… we’ll find him. He’ll turn up eventually. He always does.”

Economos cleared his throat, eyes darting between you and Adrian. “Uh… I heard from Ads that apparently, in the other universe, you and Adrian are… uh… fucking. That true?”

You choked on your chips, sputtering, eyes wide as panic flared. Adrian’s head snapped toward you, eyes wide and flailing. “Does… does anyone know how to do the Heimlich?!”

Adebayo’s eyebrows shot up, half shocked, half trying not to laugh, while Economos immediately jumped to his feet, hands hovering awkwardly. “Uh—no? Are you—are you okay?!”

You waved your hands weakly, still coughing and sputtering. “I—I’m fine! Just… what the hell did you just say?!”

Economos scratched the back of his neck, awkwardly. “I… I don’t know, that’s what Ads said. I was just… confirming.”

Adrian’s face flushed, his hands gesturing wildly. “First of all, Economos, the other me and the other her aren’t just… you know, fucking! They’re in love, okay? In love! And it’s—look, it’s complicated, but also not, because it’s… love! And they’re perfect for each other, and it’s—ugh! You don’t get it!”

John held up his hands, trying to keep pace. “Geez, okay, fine. In love, whatever. But… is it true you saw yourselves kiss? Like… yourselves?”

You were a bit nervous to hear what Adrian thought about the kiss. Although, with his rejection of you a few days ago you expected him saying that it was weird or gross, however to your surprise, Adrian’s reaction wasn’t defensive about the thought of you and him dating. Instead, he leaned back, crossing his arms, and said firmly, “Yes, we did, Economos. And it wasn’t weird at all. In fact, it was… it was natural, and it made sense. Like… like everything was just right in that moment. Like they belonged to each other. And honestly? I think… I think if anyone else saw it without understanding, they’d just… misunderstand the whole thing. In fact… it felt so right that I kissed her too!”

“Wait… he kissed the other you?” Adebayo asked, eyes wide, glancing at you.

“No, fuck—” Adrian pointed directly at you, “I kissed her.”

“What?!” Economos and Adebayo shouted in unison, practically bouncing in shock.

You threw up your hands, trying to keep the situation under control. “Everyone calm down! He kissed my forehead because Alt-Adrian kissed Alt-Me’s forehead first. That’s it!”

“Ohh,” came the chorus of realization from Adebayo and Economos, the tension finally easing as they processed the explanation.

You wanted to dig yourself a hole and bury yourself in it. This whole situation was embarrassing, but at least Adrian didn’t think that the mere thought of being with you was crazy anymore. You could already feel the teasing that Adebayo and Economos were about to launch, and thankfully, a phone call saved you from being the center of it.

Poor Adrian, though. He looked like he wanted to argue, protest, or maybe just curl into a ball of frustration.

You answered quickly, a client of yours calling you for some task that couldn’t wait.

 “I’ve gotta go,” you said, slipping your phone back into your pocket.

“Oh… can I come?” Adrian asked, a hopeful tilt to his voice.

You shook your head, regretful but firm. “Sorry, Adrian. Not on this one.”

With that, you left, the teasing, laughter, and Adrian’s slightly pained expression fading behind you as you stepped out.

Now it was just Adrian, Adebayo, and Economos.

Adebayo leaned forward, gaze steady. “So… how do you really feel about this whole “my other universe self is dating my other universe friend thing?”

Adrian shrugged, trying to play it nonchalant. “I told you, I’m normal about it. I don’t think it’s weird at all. I mean… yeah, it’s different, but so what? Doesn’t make it bad.”

Economos tilted his head, smirking faintly. “It’s okay if it feels weird. Doesn’t have to be ‘weird bad,’ you know? There’s… weird good too.”

Adrian blinked at him, incredulous. “What the fuck is ‘weird good’?”

Adebayo leaned back, letting the words hang in the air. “Well, you said it yourself, man. It felt right. Whatever that meant. Alt-you and Alt-her are obviously meant to be together.”

Adrian shifted, defensive, arms crossing over his chest. “Okay, but just because they’re meant to be together doesn’t mean that me and her are.”

Adebayo sighed, shaking her head. “Dude, the other you and you are literally the same. Same goes for her. And you literally kissed her on the forehead because it felt right. Does that not mean anything to you? Think about why it even felt right in the first place.”

Adrian’s mind went quiet for a moment, and for an instant, he could still feel the warmth of your skin beneath his lips. He replayed that moment over and over. The brush of his lips against your skin, the way it had felt completely unnecessary, yet completely inevitable. He hadn’t had to kiss you, didn’t owe himself or anyone else that gesture, and yet, for some reason, he had wanted to. And that thought, stubborn and undeniable, refused to leave him.

Then it clicked, slowly, like a puzzle piece sliding into place. He had always wanted to do that, always in little ways, in the way he tried to impress you with random animal facts, in the quiet moments where he lingered just a second too long when you laughed at his dumb jokes. His feelings had started to change somewhere in between the lines of friendship and banter, growing into something he could not ignore.

Now, thinking back, he understood the pull Alt-Adrian had mentioned, the invisible tug toward you, the one he had shrugged off as platonic instinct or familiarity. It was not just instinct anymore. It was him, truly wanting you close, wanting to protect you, wanting more than he had ever admitted, even to himself.

Adrian ran a hand through his hair, exhaling sharply. “I… I think I might’ve ruined my chances with her.”

Economos raised an eyebrow. “What do you mean?”

Adebayo leaned back, arms crossed. “He basically rejected her. Said the idea of you two even being together at all was ridiculous.”

Economos burst out laughing. “Oh yeah, man, you’re screwed.”

Adrian’s eyes widened, panic creeping in. “No, no, wait, I didn’t mean it like that! I—okay, so I said some things, and maybe I was trying to be… I don’t know, casual? Normal? But I didn’t… I just… shit, I don’t even know what to do now! Do I text her? Do I apologize? I mean, I did but I apologized and I didn’t even know what I was even apologizing for—fuck!”

Economos was still chuckling. “Wait… you apologized and you don’t even know what you did? And she accepted it?”

Adrian shot him a glare, flustered. “Fuck off, man! This isn’t fucking funny. What the fuck do I do?”

Adebayo held up a hand. “Chill, man. Like Economos said, she literally accepted your half-assed apology. What does that tell you?”

Adrian blinked, utterly clueless. “Well… she didn’t really accept it. She… acknowledged it, or whatever that means.”

Adebayo let out a long sigh. “She likes you too, Adrian.”

Adrian froze. “What?”

Adebayo shook her head, leaning back. “Look, even though your apology was, like… half-assed, and you didn’t even know what the hell you were apologizing for at the time, she still accepted it or well acknowledged it. That tells you everything, Adrian. She likes you so much that even if your apology was sloppy and clueless, she doesn’t care. She just wants to be with you and make amends, because that’s how much she values you.”

Adrian’s jaw dropped, and his mind went blank for a moment, trying to process that someone could care about him that much, even when he barely got his own act together.

Adrian didn’t even respond verbally. His fingers flew over his phone, spamming text messages and calls to you one after another. 

Adebayo groaned, reaching over to grab his arm. “Chill, man! She’s probably working. She won’t answer till later, so take a breath before you blow up her phone completely.”

Adrian’s voice sped up, tense and chaotic, words tumbling over each other. “But what if she already found someone new, right? And they’re like, cuddled on herbcouch, or worse, her bed, and he’s got his hands everywhere, whispering stupid shit in her ear, and she’s laughing, maybe slapping him, maybe biting her lip, and I’m just sitting here like a total idiot because I didn’t say anything, and now they’re probably kissing and ugh, I can’t even think straight!”

Adebayo threw her hands up. “What the fuck, Adrian? In the span of an hour? I seriously doubt that. Calm down.”

Economos chuckled, shaking his head. “Yeah, man. I don’t think she’s going to just throw herself at some random guy. Chill out.”

Adrian sat there, fingers hovering over his phone, staring at your name on the screen. The device stayed silent, no replies, and no calls. Just the glaring emptiness of your nonresponse. No matter how much they told him to chill, the gnawing panic lingered, leaving him tense and restless as the room settled into uneasy quiet.

You finally drag yourself up the walk to your apartment complex, every step heavy with exhaustion. That’s when your eyes catch the familiar shape of a Sebring parked just outside the gate, the faint glow of a dashboard light illuminating a dozing figure inside. You knock lightly on the window, and Adrian jolts awake, blinking like he’s been caught in the middle of a nap and a stakeout.

When he sees you, his face immediately lights up into a grin, unguarded and wide. 

“Hey,” he says, voice thick with sleep and some kind of relief, maybe happiness.

You raise an eyebrow, tired and incredulous. “Adrian… what are you doing here? It’s like… two in the morning.”

“Well,” Adrian said, sitting up straighter in the driver’s seat, “I’ve been calling you all day and no response from you! Which is really rude, by the way. How hard is it to pick up a phone?”

You let out a long, tired sigh and held up your phone or what was left of it. The screen was completely spiderwebbed, the corner chipped. “Yeah, about that… I dropped it. On concrete. It died instantly.”

Adrian blinked at it, then at you. “Oh. So you weren’t ghosting me, you were just technologically dead.”

“Pretty much,” you said, too tired to even laugh.

He nodded, expression shifting from scolding to awkward guilt in two seconds flat. “Okay, well… now I feel like a huge asshole. I’ve been sitting here for, like, hours thinking you hated me and were off living your best life without me. Meanwhile, your phone’s out here in a coma.”

“I don’t know about ‘best life,’” you murmured, then lifted the hem of your shirt slightly, revealing a makeshift bandage around your side. It was tight, uneven, and stained through with a bit of red. 

The fabric was clearly torn from a man’s shirt. It was gray and rough at the edges where it had been ripped. You’d done it fast, right after the fight, with nothing else around to use. The guy who stabbed you didn’t make it out of it, and when he went down, you’d ripped the shirt straight off him to stop the bleeding. You could've used your shirt, but well you were wearing one of your fancy shirts and you weren't about to ruin it.

Adrian’s grin vanished instantly. His eyes widened, his whole body jerking forward in alarm. “What the—what the hell happened?! You’re bleeding! Why didn’t you lead with that instead of the phone thing?!”

You waved him off weakly. “It’s fine, Adrian. Just a scratch.”

“A scratch?!” he nearly shouted, scrambling out of the car so fast he almost tripped over the door. “You’ve been stabbed! That’s not a scratch, that’s— that’s like the opposite of a scratch! That’s a penetration wound!”

You gave him a look. “Thank you for the medical terminology.”

Adrian didn’t even bother arguing anymore, he just grabbed your hand and started leading you toward the apartment building, muttering under his breath the whole way. “Unbelievable. You’re out here getting stabbed. You could’ve been bleeding out in some alley while I’m sitting in my car watching vidoes about spiders.”

You rolled your eyes but let him pull you along, his grip firm but careful. “Adrian, seriously, I’m fine.”

“Yeah, that’s exactly what someone with internal bleeding would say,” he shot back, glancing down at your side like he expected you to suddenly collapse.

You sighed, fumbling with your keys when you reached your door. “You’re being dramatic.”

Adrian scoffed. “Dramatic? No. I’m being proactive. There’s a difference between ‘oh no, she’s fine’ and ‘holy shit, she’s dead,’ and I’m trying to keep you in category one.”

You couldn’t help but laugh as you shoved the key into the lock and turned it. “You’re unbelievable.”

The door opened, and before you could even kick off your shoes, Adrian gently but firmly guided you to the couch.

 “Sit,” he ordered, tone serious in a way that was almost comical coming from him.

You sank into the cushions with a tired huff. “You know, you’re bossy for someone who doesn’t know the first thing about first aid.”

Adrian gave you a look, eyebrows furrowing. “What makes you think I don’t know how to do first aid?”

You shot him a tired but amused glance. “Maybe because you’re always making me patch you up.”

He hesitated for a beat, then grinned, tilting his head. “Yeah, well… maybe I just like being patched up by you.”

You froze for half a second, the words hanging in the air longer than they should’ve. Something warm and dangerous stirred in your chest, but before you could even process it, Adrian quickly backtracked.

“I mean—” he rushed, waving his hands a little, “—’cause, you know, it’s easier than patching yourself up. Way less chance of, uh, bleeding out or accidentally stapling your own skin or whatever.”

You just shaked your head and sighed. You pointed toward the cabinet near the kitchen. “First aid kit’s in there.”

Adrian moved fast toward the cabinet. He came back with the kit and knelt beside you, his usual grin replaced with a rare, quiet focus. His hands were surprisingly steady as he started cleaning the wound, brows furrowed in concentration.

The room fell into a comfortable silence, broken only by the sound of gauze being unwrapped and the occasional wince you tried to hide.

You exhaled shakily. “Okay… this hurts way more than I thought it would.”

He glanced up immediately, worry flashing across his face. “Do you want me to stop?”

You shook your head. “No. Just… distract me, Adrian.”

He blinked, thinking for a moment, then his face lit up like a kid about to tell a bad joke. “You wanna quiz me on manta rays?”

You gave him a tired but amused look. “Sure, why not.”

He grinned and handed you his phone, and you did a quick google search of manta ray facts.

You started scrolling through manta ray facts, reading the first one aloud. “Okay… what’s the largest species of manta ray?”

“Uh… the Atlantic one?”

“Wrong,” you said flatly.

He frowned. “Okay, but like, technically, that was a good guess.”

You smirked. “Next one. How many gill slits do manta rays have?”

He tilted his head and slowly said, “five?”

You paused. “Okay… that’s actually right.”

Adrian grinned proudly, puffing out his chest a little. “Yes! See? I’m a manta expert.”

You rolled your eyes, scrolling for another one. “Okay, expert. Next question. What do manta rays eat?”

He hesitated, his confidence faltering. “Uh… fish? Big ones? Like… tuna?”

You gave him a look. “Plankton, Adrian. They eat plankton.”

He groaned dramatically. “Okay, well, that’s misleading! They’re huge! You’d think something that big would at least eat something with teeth.”

You kept going, but he kept missing nearly every question. He’s getting facts wrong, mixing up species, confidently giving the most ridiculous answers imaginable. Each time, you tried not to laugh too hard because it hurt to move, but it was impossible not to smile.

You were already grinning before you even finished reading the last question. “Okay, final one. What’s the wingspan of a giant oceanic manta ray?”

Adrian sat up straighter, confidence reignited. “Easy. Fifteen  feet.”

You looked at the screen. He was very, very wrong.

But you glanced at his face, how proud and confident he looked, how hard he was trying just to make you forget the pain and you found yourself smiling softly.

“Yeah,” you said, voice gentle. “That’s right.”

He beamed, sitting back proudly. “Knew it.”

You chuckled under your breath, watching him tape down the last piece of gauze.

“Thanks, Adrian,” you murmured, your voice softer now. “Really. You didn’t have to do all this.”

He glanced up at you, expression oddly serious for once. “Well, I don’t  want one of my bff’s dying on me.”

You smiled faintly, shaking your head. “You should probably go, though. It’s like two in the morning. I’m fine now, really.”

Adrian froze mid-motion, tape still in his hand. “Go? Why would I go?”

“Because it’s late,” you said gently. “And you’ve already done enough. I’ll be okay.”

He frowned, like the idea of leaving hadn’t even crossed his mind until you mentioned it. “Yeah, but… what if you pass out or something? Or, like, your wound gets infected and you need to call someone but your phone’s still broken? What then?”

You sighed, a tired little laugh slipping out. “I’ll survive. I’ve handled worse.”

Adrian didn’t look convinced. He just sat back on his heels, studying you with that strangely stubborn set to his jaw. “You should at least let me stay until you fall asleep. You know, just in case. Medical supervision.”

You shook your head, hiding your smile. “Fine. But only until I fall asleep.”

He gave you a mock salute, his grin softening as his eyes lingered on you a little longer than usual. “Deal.”

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t help the small smile tugging at your lips. “Oh, wait. Can I borrow your phone again?”

“Yeah, of course.” He handed it over after unlocking it. “Why?”

“I should probably text Adebayo. She’s gonna freak if she finds out I got stabbed and didn’t check in.”

“Good call,” he said, busy gathering the first aid supplies back into the kit.

You took the phone, thumb brushing over the screen. The messages app was still open, the list of his recent conversations pulled up. Your name sat right at the top, just above Adebayo’s.

And under your name, faded gray preview text.

adrian: i know you’re probably ignoring me, but I need to tell you something important—

You froze for a heartbeat, eyes flicking toward him. He didn’t notice, too busy fumbling with a roll of gauze, mumbling something about how it never fit back in the box right.

Your thumb hovered over the screen, the unfinished words still visible in that tiny preview. You knew you shouldn’t look longer than a second, shouldn’t wonder what came after important, but the thought lodged in your chest all the same.

You swallowed, quickly tapping on Adebayo’s name instead. 

“Thanks,” you said, forcing your tone light.

You handed the phone back once you hit send, and Adrian took it with a small smile before setting it on the coffee table. He kicked off his shoes and dropped onto your couch like he owned the place, grabbing the throw pillow and hugging it to his chest.

“You know this isn’t a guest room, right?” you said, one brow lifting.

He grinned up at you. “What are you talking about? It’s perfect. Great lighting, excellent couch support, proximity to your fridge. Five stars.”

You let out a tired laugh, shaking your head as you turned toward your bedroom. But you didn’t make it more than a few steps before the question slipped out hesitantly.

“What are you even doing here, Adrian?”

He looked up, blinking like you’d caught him off guard. “I told you. I was just, you know, checking on you.”

You chewed the inside of your cheek, eyes flicking back toward him. “Is that really the only reason you’re here?”

Adrian froze, mid-adjustment of the blanket he’d been trying to wrap around himself. His mouth opened, then closed again like he was buffering.

“Uh… yeah,” he said finally, too quickly. “I mean—yeah, of course. What else would I be here for? Just, you know, normal friend concern. Totally platonic, medical-grade concern.”

You stared at him, unimpressed. “Medical-grade concern?”

“Yeah,” he said, nodding way too earnestly. “Like, you’re hurt, I’m concerned, boom: science.”

That pulled a small, reluctant smile from you, but you didn’t look away. “You’re deflecting.”

He blinked. “No, I’m… reflecting.”

“Deflecting,” you repeated, your voice soft but certain.

Adrian’s mouth opened, then closed again. His knee bounced a little, like the words were stuck somewhere between his chest and his throat. “The truth is… I…”

You waited. And waited.

Finally, you sighed and finished for him. “You have something to tell me?”

His head snapped up, eyes wide. “How’d you? wait, how’d you know that?”

You hesitated, guilt flickering across your face. “Uh… I might’ve read your text.”

His whole body tensed. “You what?!”

“Just one text!” you blurted, holding up your hands defensively. “I swear, it was just the preview. Your message to me popped up right under Adebayo’s. I didn’t mean to, it was right there!”

Adrian’s face went red. “Oh my god. Oh my god. You saw it. You read the whole thing, didn’t you? You know what I was gonna say. Shit, I wasn’t ready to—fuck.”

“Adrian. Adrian, breathe.”

He froze mid-panic, looking at you.

You softened. “I didn’t read the whole thing, okay? Just a glimpse. Relax. You can tell me anything, you know that.”

Adrian stared at you for a long second, still pink in the face, lips pressed in a tight line. Then, quieter, almost to himself, he muttered, “Yeah. That’s kinda the problem.”

You shifted, leaning against the doorframe, studying him. “What do you mean by that?”

Adrian hesitated, rubbing the back of his neck. “Nothing. I just—forget it.”

You tilted your head slightly, voice soft but steady. “Adrian.”

He groaned, dragging a hand down his face. “You’re doing that thing again.”

“What thing?”

“That gentle interrogation voice,” he said, waving a hand at you. 

“I’m not interrogatibg you. Just asking a question.” You said, shrugging.

He huffed, but his eyes flicked toward you, restless, searching. Finally, he sat forward, elbows on his knees. “Okay. Fine. You wanna know what I meant?”

You nodded.

He took a breath. “I was just… thinking about what you thought of, you know… us.”

You blinked slowly, pretending not to understand. “Us?”

He made a face. “Yeah, us.”

You lifted a brow, feigning confusion. “You’re gonna have to be more specific.”

Adrian gave you a half-exasperated look. “You know what I mean, alternate universe us. The version of us that was… together and in love.” His voice dropped at the end, awkward and uncertain. “You ever think about that? About… them?”

You hesitated, eyes flicking down to your hands. “About them? Sometimes.” Your voice was soft, almost careful. “About them dating? …honestly, a lot.”

Adrian blinked, caught completely off guard. “Wait, really? Like—a lot a lot?” he asked. 

“As in… you’ve imagined them doing couple stuff? Like holding hands, going on dates, making breakfast together, maybe—” He stopped himself, eyes widening a bit. “—okay, not gonna finish that sentence, but still! You’ve thought about it?”

You couldn’t help the small smile tugging at your lips. “Yeah. I mean… they seemed happy together despite everything.” You paused, your gaze softening as you met his eyes. “Like you said… seeing them together just felt right.”

Adrian’s expression shifted, that usual spark of humor dimming into something quieter, more sincere. 

“Yeah, It did. Like it was supposed to be that way or something.” He hesitated, eyes flicking to you and then away again. “Kinda makes you wonder if maybe… that feeling doesn’t just belong to them, you know?”

Adrian’s words hung in the air between you, heavier than either of you expected.

Your breath caught. “What are you saying, Adrian?”

He rubbed the back of his neck, eyes darting away. “I’m saying… look after everything, I kept telling myself it was stupid to think about. You know, about the alternate universe us. But then I’d catch myself wondering if maybe they were onto something. Like maybe… that version of us figured something out that we haven’t.”

You felt something twist in your chest. Hope, fear and everything tangled together. You wanted to say something but your throat was tight, so all that came out was a whisper. 

“Adrian, you don’t know what you’re saying.”

“I do,” he said, voice low but firm, and the way he looked at you made your pulse skip. “Fuck, I do. I’m saying what if? What if, in this universe, we’re meant to be together too?”

You froze, the words hitting harder than you wanted them to. You’d spent the past few days burying this exact thought, trying to pretend it wasn’t there, and now he was dragging it out into the open with that same reckless honesty that always managed to undo you.

“Adrian,” you started, forcing your voice steady even though your chest ached, “the only reason you’re even thinking about an us is because of them. The other us. That’s it.”

He shook his head hard, stepping closer. “What? No, that’s not it.” His voice was desperate now, raw and sincere in a way that made it hard to breathe. “Look, other me said it was different with you. That you had this pull, and it made sense to him. And I didn’t get it then, but now I do.”

You frowned, trying to hold your ground even as your pulse stuttered. “What the fuck even is that supposed to mean? A pull?”

“It’s—okay, okay, it’s like…” He gestured wildly, searching the air for the right words. “You know how magnets work? Of course you do. But like, you can’t see what’s making them stick together, but they just do. They’re, uh… magnetically compelled or whatever.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Are you calling us magnets?”

“Kind of?” he said, tone helplessly earnest. “Except not in a creepy, science-experiment way. More like…” He trailed off, then snapped his fingers. “Like that thing where you’re trying really hard not to think about something, and it just keeps popping up in your head anyway. That’s what it feels like with you. Like there’s this… invisible gravity or force field or whatever, and it keeps pulling me back to you even when I try not to.”

You stared at him, thrown off by the mix of sincerity and total lack of filter. “Adrian, that’s not—”

He cut you off, stepping closer again, his voice quick and unguarded now. “No, listen, I mean it. I’ll be in the middle of work, or watching some dumb movie, or, like, cleaning my weapons and then I’ll just start thinking about you. And it’s not like, oh, random thought, whatever. It’s like—bam! You’re just there. Every single time.”

You opened your mouth, but no words came out.

He took another step, close enough now that you could feel his breath when he spoke. “So yeah, maybe it’s a pull. Maybe it’s dumb. But I can’t stop feeling it. I don’t want to stop feeling it.”

You stared at him, every word sinking in deeper than you wanted it to. The air between you felt too heavy, too close. Like if you moved even an inch, you’d accidentally cross a line you couldn’t uncross.

And God, he looked so earnest. Eyes wide and a little nervous, but full of something real, something you’d been trying to ignore for far too long.

You wanted to say something, anything but your throat felt tight. It wasn’t supposed to be this hard to breathe around him.

So instead, you whispered the first thing that came to mind.

“Adrian… why did you take that bullet for me?”

“Uh… the first time or the second time?”

Despite the knot in your chest, a laugh slipped out. If you had a nickle for everytime Adrian took a bullet for you, you’d have two nickles which isn’t a lot but it’s weird that it happened twice right? 

“Both,” you said softly.

He nodded, rubbing the back of his neck as if searching for the right words. “Okay, well… the first time was easy. You were nice to me. You… kind of saved me that day too, remember? It was the least I could do.”

You did remember. The chaos of that mission at the Butterfly base. There was gunfire, shouting, smoke so thick it burned your lungs. You’d been separated from the team, cornered behind a crumbling wall, and when you heard the shot ring out, you didn’t think—you just ran. You’d found him bleeding out, dazed but still trying to smile through it. You’d dragged him to cover, pressing your hands against the wound while yelling at him to stay awake.

You were still caught in that memory when he spoke again.

“The second time…” He trailed off, his gaze dropping to the floor for a moment before finding yours again. His tone was different now. It was unsteady, sincere. “That one wasn’t about owing you anything.”

Your breath hitched. “Then what was it about?”

He swallowed, hands fidgeting slightly at his sides. “I don’t know. I mean—I do know, but it sounds stupid when I say it out loud.”

“Adrian,” you said quietly, “just say it.”

He exhaled hard, like he was bracing himself. “Because I couldn’t stand the idea of you getting hurt. Not you.” His voice was quiet but full of conviction, every word hitting like a heartbeat. “It wasn’t logic or training or anything like that. I just, didn’t think. My body moved before my brain could catch up. It was like… that pull thing again, you know? Except this time, it hurt a hell of a lot more.”

Your heart was pounding so hard it felt like it echoed in your ears. You could see the tension in Adrian’s shoulders, the nervous twitch in his jaw and still, he didn’t back away.

“So… just so we’re clear,” you said quietly, “you like me?”

Adrian blinked, like he couldn’t believe you had to ask. “Uh, yeah. Obviously. I mean—I just told you I think about you all the time, and that I can’t stand the idea of you getting hurt, and that I’ve taken literal bullets for you. I feel like that kinda covers it.”

You raised an eyebrow. “You’re sure?”

He frowned, earnest. “Yeah, I’m sure. Unless you think I’m, like, in denial or something, but I’m pretty sure this is what liking someone feels like. Heart pounding, brain short-circuiting, doing stupid heroic stuff for them—yeah, that checks out.”

You couldn’t help it. You laughed, shaking your head.

Then his expression shifted suddenly, the realization hitting him mid-sentence. “Wait. Shit.” He pointed at you, looking almost panicked. “I just said all that out loud, and I don’t even know if you like me back.”

You snorted. “You’re an idiot.”

“Yeah, but like—” He gestured vaguely. “A hopeful idiot?”

You smiled then, really smiled, the kind that ached a little. You could’ve denied it, played it off, made some joke but instead you just said softly, “Maybe.”

The air between you thickened, warm and nervous. You watched him swallow hard, his fingers twitching like he didn’t know what to do with them.

“Adrian,” you said, almost under your breath, “can I kiss you?”

His breath caught. “What?”

“To you know…test the theory. See if we’re actually meant to be together in this universe. See if the “pull” you’re talking about is actually there.” 

“Oh. Uh—yeah. Yeah, definitely.”

You leaned in first. The kiss started awkward. Your noses bumped, he tilted the wrong way, and for a second it was almost funny. He froze for a second, like he didn’t know what to do with his hands.

Then it clicked.

Adrian made a soft, startled sound against your mouth and kissed you back, clumsy at first, then really into it—too into it, almost, like all that nervous energy had finally found a place to go. His hand brushed your jaw, careful but eager, and you could feel the smile forming against your lips when you let out a small laugh mid-kiss.

It wasn’t perfect. It wasn’t smooth. But it was real.

When you finally pulled back, both of you were breathing hard. He blinked, a little dazed, hair sticking up from where you’d touched it.

“So…” he said, a small grin forming, voice still a little breathless. “I think that’s a yes?”

You tilted your head, pretending to think, the corner of your mouth twitching. “Hmm. I don’t know,” you said, drawing it out. “I think we might have to kiss again to be sure.”

The smile on his face faltered immediately. “Wait, what? You didn’t feel anything?” His brow furrowed, eyes wide with the kind of genuine confusion only Adrian could pull off. “Did I mess it up? I can try again—maybe I used too much tongue, or not enough, or—”

You couldn’t help laughing, cutting him off as you reached for him. “Adrian, I’m kidding.”

His mouth opened, about to respond, but you didn’t give him the chance. You leaned in and kissed him again, firmer this time, surer. His breath hitched against your lips before he melted into it completely, hands hesitating for a split second before finding your waist.

This kiss wasn’t clumsy or uncertain. It was warm, a little desperate, and when you finally pulled away, he looked dazed, eyes soft and unfocused.

“Oh,” he whispered, a slow grin spreading. “Yeah… definitely a yes.”

You smiled against his cheek, heart still racing, and for the first time all night, neither of you said anything else. 

Everything just… felt right. The quiet, the warmth of his hands still resting on your waist, the faint brush of his breath against your skin. You’d spent so long convincing yourself this couldn’t happen, that it shouldn’t but standing there in Adrian’s arms, it didn’t feel complicated at all. It felt easy. Natural. Like every version of you, in every universe, would have found their way right here anyway.

And as his thumb traced an absentminded circle against your side, you realized maybe that pull he talked about wasn’t so impossible after all.

a/n: do you guys know how hard it was to not use "Y/N" in this fic? I try my best to not use "Y/N" and opt for 'you said your name" or smth like that, and it was so hard to do in this fic cause honestly even i was geting confused on who alt-reader and main reader was T-T

anyways, i hope you enjoyed reading the fic :D comment down below on what's your fave pokemon game, i js started playing pokemon emerald cause of this fic :p

taglist: @greeniegreengreen @bakugotypecrashout @sadpods @boogiemansbitch @nanni197 @kooculture @iluvcatsalot @deadpoolgirl23 @lavzxx

[sheisjoeschateau]

📁 I SEE FIRE

🕊️ A Stranger Things AU Fanfic from Misha’s Masterlist Library. 📚 ALL (4) BOOKS +chapters below (scroll on…) 🗂️ Infodump file below.

Steve Harrington x OC!fem!reader hometown strangers to friends to lovers. ultra dark, heavy angst and hurt/comfort. alternate universe -> upside down apocalypse.high suspense, dystopian game-of-survival plot with morbidly dry humor sprinkled along the way. eventual plot-driven angsty smut (...but with hella plot). 18+

A fever dream multi-crossover au inspired by Hunger Games and The Purge universes, merged with Stranger Things. 🏹

🏹 Summary: Volunteering for the kids isn't something Steve Harrington is anything but fully prepared to do, no matter what the cost. He just hadn't factored in Dustin's name being the one Effie Trinket draws on the day of the Reaping, then fighting to the death in his place alongside the Hawkins baker's daughter... who's been secretly in love with him since the fourth grade.

Battered and bruised from the last three years of apocalyptic war and hellfire, Steve isn't the charming popular guy he used to be. Not after the Purge parties robbed him of his dignity, losing his best friend in the midst of the mayhem, and now has to live with it for the kids and Nancy. He hardly remembers what it feels like to not wake up angry and aching, all the time. And looking at you... somehow reminds him of that, more and more, every single waking hour. You're not even trying to do it. You just are, by merely existing. When he looks at you, he sees an angel on earth who is bound for a coffin in this godforsaken reality that now takes care of the masses with population control in the form of reality television: The First Annual Hunger Games.

He needs to win this thing.

He needs to make it back home to Hawkins for the kids.

...but you're making that extremely difficult for him.

-> A FOUR-BOOK SAGA BY MISHA ST. JAMES

BOOK SERIES +Chapters

📕

BOOK ONE: Fire Incarnate “I See Fire” Series

🏹 Chapter One: The Reaping 🏹 Chapter Two: A Train to Tyranny 🏹 Chapter Three: Robin’s Ghost 🏹 Chapter Four: Tension on the Trolly 🏹 Chapter Five: A Thief of Time 🏹 Chapter Six: Meeting Cinna 🏹 Chapter Seven: Rewriting the Rules 🏹 Chapter Eight: The Midnight Black Parade 🏹 Chapter Nine: The Tribute Training Center 🏹 Chapter Ten: Passarounds 🏹 Chapter Eleven: An Olive Branch

🏹 Chapter Twelve: Eyes on Me, Ren. 🏹 Chapter Thirteen: Press Day Prep 🏹 Chapter Fourteen: Fire Incarnate and the Fallen Angel 🏹 Chapter Fifteen: Symbol of Rebellion 🏹 Chapter Sixteen: The Capitol Gala 🏹 Chapter Seventeen: Pixie Dust 🏹 Chapter Eighteen: Suite Sparring 🏹 Chapter Nineteen: Dissecting the Districts 🏹 Chapter Twenty: Dalmatians and Dinner 🏹 Chapter Twenty-One: The President’s Luncheon 🏹 Chapter Twenty-Two: Dismantling the ‘Short-Game’

Apparently, Tumblr believes in randomly saying "HEY! NO MORE FUN FOR YOU!" >:[ so because of that stupidity, here are the remaining chapters for ALL OF BOOK ONE.

It wouldn't let me include them all in this singular post, so I'm afraid it'll have to be all scattered. But please follow all the links to the next books below as well :)

📗

BOOK TWO: Catching Fire “I See Fire” Series

🏹 Chapter One: 72 Questions 🏹 Chapter Two: Winter’s Bone 🏹 Chapter Three: Sexiest Man Alive & Covergirl 🏹 Chapter Six: A Hidden Love Affair? 🏹 Chapter Six: The Whipping Post 🏹 Chapter Six: Second Star to the Right

🏹 Chapter Seven: The Victory Tour 🏹 Chapter Eight: Shot Onsite 🏹 Chapter Nine: Sticking to the Script 🏹 Chapter Ten: Sleepless Nights 🏹 Chapter Eleven: The Banquet 🏹 Chapter Twelve: Can We Always Be This Close?

🏹 Chapter Thirteen: The National Quell 🏹 Chapter Fourteen: A Favor 🏹 Chapter Fifteen: Chariots of Fire 🏹 Chapter Sixteen: Consent Was Never Mine to Give 🏹 Chapter Seventeen: Scouting Allies 🏹 Chapter Eighteen: Nationwide Shock Value

🏹 Chapter Nineteen: Blood Before Battle 🏹 Chapter Twenty: Powerplay 🏹 Chapter Twenty-One: Demodog Mutts 🏹 Chapter Twenty-Two: Morphling Martyr 🏹 Chapter Twenty-Three: The Hourglass 🏹 Chapter Twenty-Four: Tethering Time

🏹 Chapter Twenty-Five: High Ground 🏹 Chapter Twenty-Six: The Basin 🏹 Chapter Twenty-Seven: The Fog & Its Horrors 🏹 Chapter Twenty-Eight: Real or Not Real? 🏹 Chapter Twenty-Nine: Jabberjays 🏹 Chapter Thirty: Who is Max?

🏹 Chapter Thirty-One: I Need You 🏹 Chapter Thirty-Two: The Plan 🏹 Chapter Thirty-Three: Dear Johanna 🏹 Chapter Thirty-Four: The Final Arrow 🏹 Chapter Thirty-Five: You’re a Liar 🏹 Chapter Thirty-Six: No More Hawkins

📘

BOOK THREE: Wildfire “I See Fire” Series

🏹 Chapter One: TBD 🏹 Chapter Two: TBD 🏹 Chapter Three: TBD 🏹 Chapter Six: TBD 🏹 Chapter Six: TBD 🏹 Chapter Six: TBD

🏹 Chapter Seven: TBD 🏹 Chapter Eight: TBD 🏹 Chapter Nine: TBD 🏹 Chapter Ten: TBD 🏹 Chapter Eleven: TBD 🏹 Chapter Twelve: TBD

🏹 Chapter Thirteen: TBD 🏹 Chapter Fourteen: TBD 🏹 Chapter Fifteen: TBD 🏹 Chapter Sixteen: TBD 🏹 Chapter Seventeen: TBD 🏹 Chapter Eighteen: TBD

🏹 Chapter Nineteen: TBD 🏹 Chapter Twenty: TBD 🏹 Chapter Twenty-One: TBD 🏹 Chapter Twenty-Two: TBD 🏹 Chapter Twenty-Three: TBD 🏹 Chapter Twenty-Four: TBD

🏹 Chapter Twenty-Five: TBD 🏹 Chapter Twenty-Six: TBD 🏹 Chapter Twenty-Seven: TBD 🏹 Chapter Twenty-Eight: TBD 🏹 Chapter Twenty-Nine: TBD 🏹 Chapter Thirty: Safe Haven

📙

BOOK FOUR: Hellfire “I See Fire” Series

🏹 Chapter One: TBD 🏹 Chapter Two: TBD 🏹 Chapter Three: TBD 🏹 Chapter Six: TBD 🏹 Chapter Six: TBD 🏹 Chapter Six: TBD

🏹 Chapter Seven: TBD 🏹 Chapter Eight: TBD 🏹 Chapter Nine: TBD 🏹 Chapter Ten: TBD 🏹 Chapter Eleven: TBD 🏹 Chapter Twelve: TBD

🏹 Chapter Thirteen: TBD 🏹 Chapter Fourteen: TBD 🏹 Chapter Fifteen: TBD 🏹 Chapter Sixteen: TBD 🏹 Chapter Seventeen: TBD 🏹 Chapter Eighteen: TBD

🏹 Chapter Nineteen: TBD 🏹 Chapter Twenty: TBD 🏹 Chapter Twenty-One: TBD 🏹 Chapter Twenty-Two: TBD 🏹 Chapter Twenty-Three: TBD 🏹 Chapter Twenty-Four: TBD

🏹 Chapter Twenty-Five: TBD 🏹 Chapter Twenty-Six: TBD 🏹 Chapter Twenty-Seven: TBD 🏹 Chapter Twenty-Eight: TBD 🏹 Chapter Twenty-Nine: TBD 🏹 Chapter Thirty: TBD

THE PARALLELS

Steve Harrington -> Katniss Ren Everdeen -> Peeta Jim Hopper -> Haymitch Dustin Henderson -> Primrose Nancy Wheeler -> Gale (*does not follow canon, nobody panic) Billy Hargrove -> Finnick Odair Chrissy Cunningham -> Madge Tommy H. -> Cato Carol Perkins -> Clove

All role reversal characters remain true to their origin, based on their assigned universe, whether that is as an established afab! or amab! character (i.e. Steve is still male, versus Katniss — who was written as female; Ren is female, versus Peeta — who was written as male)

Other canon characters from the THG universe not listed remain canon compliant.

incredible artwork gifted to me by @raspberry-sunshinee [this literally makes me happy cry every time I look at them]

-> read lore facts on my blog via the hashtag: # I SEE FIRE: Almanac

💌 my favorite love letters for i see fire

book two theories: will ren mirror peeta’s near death in catching fire (the fence)?

[nullicaput]

wound me, oh dearest. FIN

Pairings: Soshiro Hoshina x Reader

Tags: Canon-Typical Violence, Slow Romance, No Smut, Arranged Marriage, Unrequited Love, Requited Unrequited Love

Summary: Trapped in a marriage with a man who does not reciprocate your affection, you try to find meaning in your life despite your upbringing.

Word count: 2466

previous chapter.

[Music suggestion: Leaving on a Jet Plane - John Denver] 

The gravestone of the late mistress of the main Hoshina family stood tall yet humble beside the others. The scent of incense was gently blanketing the foggy air of the bamboo forest located at the most secluded area of the estate.

"It's been many years." The man gripped his sword as he knelt down. "How are ya?"

He smiled ever-so-tenderly, longing evident in the way his eyes blinked to stop his tears. His calloused hand caressed the other, as if trying to replicate the feeling of his wife's fingers. The sensation of her lips ghosted his ears, her voice ringing like bells.

"My boy," the grandmistress whispered. "Yer here again."

"What else can I do?"

The stern woman squeezed her eyes shut and let out an aged sigh. 

"It was a shame she was taken away from this world so soon," she stated, her hand touching the name engraved. "Such a fine young lady, she was."

Ice suddenly grew from where you used to stand—Shinonome has thrown her last freeze grenade.

"[Surname]!" your temporary platoon leader shouted.

She lifted her machine gun and pulled the trigger. You skipped back and several times. A flurry of gunshots gave you way to escape from the proximity of the beast. The image of the Kaiju, without a warning, vanished.

It threw her a vertical hook, crushing her and her machine gun. 

"Miss Shinonome!"

Abandoning your sense of reasoning, you zoomed to her, your swords trembling with your fingers. 

As you ran, your speed gradually decreased and decreased. You stumbled. 

"What?"

You stumbled.

You never stumble—you just did. You never lose your footing—you had. 

You may get exhausted, but you never stumble. You may freeze, but you never stumble. You never ever—

You saw a shadow—something was behind you. You did not even have the chance to look—

Your back slammed to a pillar of the overpass—you left a dent.

"Officer [Surname]!" your Operations officer shouted, sobbing. "Officer [Surname], please, get out of the way!"

Tears fell from your bleeding eyes, and you felt your whole body convulsing in pain. 

"Soshiro," you panted, coughing out a handful of blood. "Be safe for the both of us."

You were aware that you will soon die, crushed by the knuckles of the humanoid Kaiju standing before you. You were aware that a flick of its finger could easily break you in half. You were aware that your trembling hands could never hold your swords properly anymore. You were aware that your life was as insignificant as an insect crawling around to survive. You were aware that your prior conversation would probably be the last.

You were aware, of all things, that you were not prepared to die yet.

Dread grew in the hearts of the two Hoshina's while the wind blew eerily gentle. It extinguished the burning hope inside, terror steadily growing. 

"She would've loved [Name]," your father-in-law said.

For that, your grandmother-in-law agreed.

The skies were in its most brightest, yet everything felt but. The old man wished for the best, but the churning of his stomach told him that the absolute worst was approaching. 

"Guide our children, my most beloved," he pleaded. "Soichiro, Soshiro, and [Name]."

Cheers have erupted from the mouths of every single person in Japan. From the civilians to the ones behind the screens directing the defense force to the officers themselves. They cried in utter joy and relief, all because Kafka Hibino has triumphantly subjugated the largest threats, which were the Kaiju Number Nine and the Meireki Mega Monster. Although there have been countless casualties, the ones who were still alive were now safe.

Paramedics flooded the scenes, ensuring that they could save those who are still breathing. Letting them care for other officers first, Soshiro sat down on top of the rubble, feeling all the loss of blood catching up to him at last. On top of his bent knees, he placed his forearms, and he slouched.

"Okonogi, dear, how's she?" he sighed.

There was a pause from the Operations Leader's end. 

"Unfortunately, there hasn't been any updates."

"Can ya..." He gulped an aching lungful of air. "...redirect me?"

"Roger."

Taking off his mask, he inhaled the air filled with pollutants—dust, soil, blood, sweat, carcasses. How he wished it was your hair he was smelling instead. 

"[Name]?" he called, thistone hopeful yet afraid.

There were no responses from you.

Why were you not responding? 

He was calling your name, so why were you not saying anything back? 

"[Name]?" he said again, this time more distressed.

Again, you were silent.

Could you be de—

No. 

You could not be dead. 

You were too strong to die because of a Kaiju. You were too quick to die because of a Kaiju. You were too skilled to die because of a Kaiju. You were too young to die because of a Kaiju. You were too precious to die because of Kaiju.

You could not die. 

You could not leave him alone. You could not leave him alone. He would not be able to take it. He would not be able to live the days without you—not when you were finally connecting. He would not be able to sleep the nights alone now that he has learned how you felt. He would not be able to eat. He would not be able to live. He would not be able to exist. 

Not without you. 

Oh, gods, not without you. 

"Hey, [Name]," he choked. 

He wanted to hear your voice. He wanted to hear your answer. He wanted to hear you say his name. He wanted to hear you at least breathe. 

Damn it. 

Damn it all. 

Damn i—

"She is...sleeping?"

"Huh?"

"Officer [Surname] is currently sleeping, Vice Captain Hoshina," your appointed Operations Officer, whose sobs have long died down, clarified her words. "She's safe."

She felt tense with your husband's attention all on her.

"That so?" he whispered, but his words were still full of uncertainty. 

Feeling the sudden need to explain herself, albeit unaware of the reason for her to say and for your husband to know—it simply felt right—she added, "She has the unconscious tendency to sleep after a rigorous activity, and whenever she's done with the evening training, she would lie down on the floor and sleep." 

"How come ya know?"

"It was a behavior we've observed during the course of almost three months." 

Kaiju Number Ten, who felt every single, swift change in his user's body directly, became confused. 

"Hey, Hoshina," it said. 

"Shut up for a moment." 

His eyes watered as he let out a breath that he held onto so hard. His shoulders shook, tears accumulating and dripping from his fatigued eyes—it dissolved the dried blood. He slowly laughed to mask his voice breaking while his throat tightened uncomfortably. 

"Why the heck would someone sleep on the battlefield?" he asked himself, hiccups attempting to squeeze in between the words. "How could someone even sleep there to begin with?"

He looked up at the sky, sniffling. He grunted, not sure whether to be frustrated at this reckless act you have done or at his own lack of knowledge about your habits. 

"Ya really sure my wife's alive?" 

"Eh?" 

Ah, his tongue slipped.

It has only been a week after the major catastrophe, and during those days, you have spent all your time sleeping and recovering. During those days, also, you have not seen your husband ever visiting you. 

"Don't you have fever?" you asked. "Why'd you push yourself so hard and visit me, father?"

Lying on the bed, you watched your father-in-law make himself comfortable on the metal chair provided by one of the nurses last-minute. 

"I ain't that weak yet, so don't treat me that way," your father-in-law said. "How are your injuries?" 

"It's," you trailed off, yawning. "It's ideal." 

"Where's Soshiro?"

"Working."

He shook his head disapprovingly and sighed. 

"Can't he rest?" 

Well, he would not be the Third Division Captain if he has not been as workaholic as he was. 

You have learned from the nurses—you did not know why they were telling you directly about your husband's status—that he was discharged a day sooner than you, and instead of resting, he was working—of course—on the restoration of his Numbers Weapon. Apparently, the lack of Number Ten's tail reduced its performance. 

You were not quite sure it was the actual reason for your husband to ask Izumo Corporations to repair its tail; if you remember things correctly, you have once mentioned that you really liked it.

"Yeah, can't he?"

The flap of the tent that acted as temporary infirmary opened carelessly. Soichiro's head popped up, his hands grasping a basket of apples. When you took a look at it, you realized that it was from that tree back in the Hoshina estate.

"Done with the cell test, fin—man, ya look terrible," he commented. 

He was correct in the sense that you almost appeared like a cat wrapped in a tissue roll. Despite your rapidly healing wounds, the nurses insisted in having you bandaged from head to toe. 

With your eye twitching, you shot back, "You look...yourself."

"What that mean?"

He put down the basket on the bedside table and pinched both of your cheeks.

Hearing you hiss in pain, your father-in-law reprimanded him by stating, "Stop botherin' her, would ya?" 

"Father and his favoritism."

"It ain't favoritism," the old man immediately defended himself. 

Soichiro playfully rolled his eyes, his irritation being nothing but a hoax.

"Ninety-six, huh?" He massaged your now swollen cheeks. "Ya gonna be a captain?"

You smiled and replied, "I don't know yet."

Letting time pass with your husband's family—your family as well—the skies have darkened, revealing a crescent. They soon left, leaving with the promise of another visit.

The air, for an unknown reason—which you learned quickly—shifted. The temperature around you dropped, and you heard whispers. 

A ghost? A monster of the night?

"[Surname], you traitor," the voice said repeatedly. "You traitor." 

You looked around, searching the sound, but you could see no one. Your heart thrummed, before its beat turned rapid.

"Was it true?"

The ghost showed its hollow face to yo—

Oh, it's Captain Narumi. 

"Was it fucking true?!"

"What is?"

He grabbed and pulled on your ankle, as if he was trying to drag you down to the deepest pits of hell. 

"You married that bowl cut?!"

Where did he even learn that?

Seriously, how come every single person who has come inside and exited the tent you were in seemed to know that you were married with the vice captain of the Third Division? Since when have they known, and who was the loose-mouthed jackass who revealed it? 

"Captain Narumi, let go of my leg," you groaned in slight pain. 

"Answer the question!" he whined. "You've betrayed me, [Surname]! You've betrayed me!"

He tugged again.

Shit, it hurt. 

"Let go of my leg, you dimwit!" you shouted back. 

His grip around your poor leg has finally loosened. You thanked the stars above while watching him becoming limp on the tent floor—

Then, the motherfucker thrashed around, kicking and punching the air. 

"He influenced you, didn't he?!" he shouted, louder this time. "My pride and joy! You're my pride and joy!"

Covering your ears, you glared at the captain spinning on the floor like a toy top. 

"Ain't ya havin' a li'l too much fun?" another man said.

The captain halted. He shot up, now standing with his tipped toes. He pointed an index finger to the other man—your husband—and shrieked, "You, shut up!"

"Being this loud this late? My goodness, Captain Narumi. Yer provin' Captain Ashiro correct," he taunted, pertaining to that time during the last Inter-Division Conference. 

"I said, shut up!" He snapped his head to you. "Why d'ya marry him of all people?!" 

"It's not even my choice to marry him!" you said. 

"[Name]?" Soshiro gasped—a real one—before trying to touch your shoulder. "What's that supposed to mean?"

Feeling a clap of headache approaching, you stared at your husband. 

Wait a minute. 

He—

He told them. 

He was the one who told whoever-they-were that you were married with him. 

"Dearest?" Soshiro asked. 

Narumi comically gagged on the floor, finding the display of softness from his rival utterly abhorrent.

"Ew, ew, ew, ew!" 

A large female nurse opened the tent, forcefully grabbing the two higher-ups by the collar. 

"You two, out!"

The warm water on the tub has turned lukewarm, yet you did not feel the slightest of cold.

It has been a month after your discharge, and you have returned to your original division—not before prying Captain Narumi off of your ankles. You have been appointed as a platoon leader, deciding that the workload of a captain is not for you. Since the admission has yet to happen—and you, like Ichikawa, do not have officers of your own yet—you were sometimes asked to train the already established squads. 

After careful considerations, or what Captain Ashiro calls her barely hidden excitement after her vice requested for a one-day leave with you, you and your husband was permitted to have a rest day. However, being the boring grown-ups—Furuhashi's words—that you two were, you spent your free day inside your house. 

Currently, your bare back was flush against his chest while the two of you settled on the bath tub. It was the first time that you shared spaces with someone this near, and it was safe to say that your personal space and his own were undoubtedly nonexistent. His arms rested on the rim of the tub, his fingers occasionally running over yours. His head was leaning sideways on the wall, and his legs were surrounding you. He fixed his position, ensuring that your legs were well extended.

Wealthy clan equals good bathtub, after all.

"Soshiro," you muttered, yet your voice resonated.

You touched his arm and took one of his hands. You played around with his fingers, admiring how slender every single one was. 

"Yeah?"

"I'm just trying to determine if this was true." 

"What is?" 

"You."

It felt like it was yesterday when he still never returned your far softer gaze, and being this close to him has used to be nothing but a dream. Everything seemed to be an illusion. They were too good to be true. 

"Why wouldn't it be?"

He shifted, and then, he nestled into the crook of your neck. Planting delicate kisses on the area, he listened to you intently. His palms made their way into your inner thighs, separating the two better. 

"I don't know," you said.

"Ya don't know?"

"Mhm." 

He opened his mouth, and with his fangs, he lightly bit you. 

"I've returned yer name to what's official." 

"[Name] Hoshina?" you asked, sighing. 

"[Name] Hoshina," he confirmed.

Tag section: @hanginginthevoid @perfectprofessorloverapricot @gyujaehyun @96jnie @hana-patata @insomniacxin @night-shadowblood-writes2 @m3ldy @imafangirlofeverything @swivi @fufycse-blog @ssolariiss @idk-bro-gay @kumori-suwan @hheerrmmiitt @purplefluffycows @holaaaf @tatsuomii @tanchosanke @friendlyspacemartian @ventilmn @simpsimpshrimp @chuuberrysworld @fandomtrashpandasposts @mushy-mushroom04 @kewpiemeayo @littlepenguinheart @heichoucleanfreak @ayuqi @redtaytan @akaotv @chocomaltz @melodic-cats @kaminabbygirl @fckwritersblock @lovelyleanie @treeguzzler @faetoraa

Author's note:

I like messing around, and I was so happy that you were terrified that I was gonna kill her. To those who unintentionally gave me the idea of killing [Name], I thank you all for that. Just sharing, but whenever I look at Kafka and Mina, I imagine "Two Birds" by Regina Specter playing.

Welp let's go back to the topic at hand. Erm, the series is done! In all honesty, I was actually planning to end this somewhere around chapter six, where [Name] almost died, and, you know, kill her. However, I was in a good mood and decided to lengthen it. Before I knew it, I was already fifteen chapters deep. Haha, thank you for all the support. I think I might try expanding the universe, but to those who are hoping, no, I'm not giving them children. You can imagine the scenes; I'm not writing them. I don't like pregnancy-centered or children-centered stories. Why? That is a secret that would likely involve Karen Horney's theory. Again, thank you for the likes/kudos, silent readers, and to those comments I love rereading. If I were to write for this fandom again, I'd probably do a dark psychological one. Not yandere, never.

For those from Brave Citizen fandom wondering where the heck is "skinner and the rat.", I deleted it. You see, I misunderstood the concept of the use of reinforcement and punishment in B. F. Skinner's theory, and I'll be damned before I continue with that knowledge now in mind.

[vigilante24ish]

Needle & Thread

Summary:

When your land is plagued by wars and death becomes an everyday thing, your hands learn to become more stable than a maester's.

You learn to look into the eyes of a killer and understand forgiveness. You learn that justice is a heavy sword to be carried.

But when you meet a Targaryen Prince burdened by duty and grief, your souls vibrate to the same frequency. And perhaps, the world is not as dark as you both originally thought.

Pairing: Baelor Targaryen x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Blood, Description of War, Injuries & Death, Battle Wounds, Body Shaming, Malnutrition, Smut, Loss of Virginity (more to be added as story progresses) Tags: Forbidden romance, Nobleborn/commonborn, Single!DadBaelor X Nanny!Fem!Reader, Smut, Secret Relationship, Occasional Angst, Widower!Yearning Baelor, Pregnancy, Second wife, Happy Ending, Baelor Lives.

[A/N] - Just Another Baelor Widow that wants to give him a happy life and a happy ending. Considering I have already given an older GOT man his happy life (more than once), I thought I would try my hand at our dear Prince. Mind ya, the story is slow-burning with some graphic descriptions of injuries at first. Slow romance between Reader & Baelor. He is a newly widowed man, and she is a low-born woman from no noble house.

Chapter I / Chapter II / Chapter III / Chapter IV

Chapter V / Chapter VI / Chapter VII / Chapter VII

Chapter IX / Chapter X / Chapter XI / Chapter XII

Chapter XIII / Chapter XIV / Chapter XV / Chapter XVI

Chapter XVII / Chapter XVIII / Chapter XIX / Chapter XX

Chapter XXI / Chapter XXII / Chapter XXIII / Chapter XXIV

Chapter XXV / Chapter XXVI / Chapter XXVII / Chapter XXVIII

Chapter XXIX / Chapter XXX / Chapter XXXI / Chapter XXXII

Chapter XXXIII (soon) / Chapter XXXIV (soon)...

Divider by @uzmacchiato

[spicyhotcheeto]

Ditches Instead of Silk ⋆✴︎˚｡⋆ where in after the trial of the seven, prince maekar- swayed by the hedge knights words- decides to send aerion off to the road with you and your brother instead of the free cities. authors note: head canons/drabbles | very self indulgent | yes, baealor is alive because i love happiness and pure fluff | slight blind baelor au | and while im at it- both of the humphreys survived too | my whimsical fantasy show must stay a whimsical fantasy show because i say so!!! :) | ooc aerion | canon divergence | no use of y/n | slow burn WARNING: slight fatphobia??? from aerion. not proofread

PRINCE MAEKAR had put a lot of thought of what to do with his second eldest son, Aerion, after the mess he had created in Ashford meadow; even as he sat beside his brother's bed- tending to his wounds left by the steady struck of his mace- the boy always remained at the back of his mind.

At first, he thought it best to send Aerion to Lys. hoping that the free cities of Essos, far away from Westerosi eyes and Targaryen influence, would temper not only his infamy but his ire.

But only after many stretched hours of maesters filtering in and out of the Targaryen pavilion; with their boiling wine and poppy milk in hand- had Baelor finally awoken to tell him that sending the boy off to the lovely islands was the worst thing he could do for not only Aerion, but the realm as well.

"Many, more honorable, dragonlords' hubris have swelled in the little paradise" Baelor reminded.

And like the faithful brother he is, Maekar was quick to take his advice and seek other forms of exile. (maybe after pouting a little bit that his idea was quickly shot down by Baelor)

When Ser Duncan had came to him- with you by his side- asking to take Egg to squire as a hedge knight, with talk on how living the less privilege life would help shape the youngest into a much better man than that of his brothers; Maekar came to a conclusion.

Neither you, Dunk, and the younger Targaryen princes were happy with said conclusion

Instead of the little bald-headed squire you had grown to love like one of your own, Prince Maekar decided to set you and Dunk up with the less desirable Targaryen prince, that fucking bitch

Prince Maekar guilt tripped Dunk into taking Aerion.

"The maesters say that Baelor might never regain his sight fully, Ser Duncan. A pity that the seven decided that he must pay the price of his senses to fight along side you."

Sadly, you shared the same bleeding heart, so it worked on you too.

Ser Arlan, you imagine, must be laughing his ass off at the predicament you and Dunk were probably in.

Aerion begged his father to send him to Braavos instead if Lys proved to be too agreeable.

"This is punishment you stupid boy, why would I take your wants into account when delivering it!?" Maekar almost folded but Baelor insisted that it was best if Aerion be with you and Dunk.

Baelor sent for some flasks of strong Dornish wine. Said you'll need it for the road.

You were already down two of said flasks within the week of preparing with Aerion.

Definitely made you help him pack his things after Maekar ordered the servants to stop serving him. Says Dunk is far too brutish and much more stupid to handle such fine silk with care.

Did it just to get him to stop pestering you.

Definitely tried to bring all of the wears he had brought to Ashford- even his gaudy Targaryen armor.

"Maybe you and that oaf of a brother of yours will be foolish enough to join another tourney. We can't have the blood of the dragon sully himself with a lesser man's armor if the need were to arise." Aerion's tone was always far to self-important for a soon to be banished prince.

"Do not fret, My Lord." You would always reply, all to pleased with yourself. "You wouldn't need to sully yourself with armor for long if that were the case, when if my brother we're to join the lists, he would knock you down into the mud as he did in the seven." Thankfully, Aerion would grant you a few minutes of silence after that. Though it never lasted long.

Egg tried to sneak in his own things with Aerion's, removing much of his brother's to make room. You catch him in the act but do nothing about it because, well, its Aerion and you wanted his creepy helm gone and out of your sight.

Truthfully, you had taken out most of Aerion's clothing. Replacing velvet and silk with cotton and linen fabrics. Mostly because you were not interested in potentially getting caught up in some mugging attempt if word got out you were carrying some expensive fabrics, partially because you wanted to see Aerion's soft pampered skin itch.

After awhile you wonder if you should simply leave his pretty dress shirts be and let the poor bastard have some luxuries to remind himself of home.

That is until you remember the first day you met, how after mistaking Dunk for a servant boy, he ordered him to gather some drink and a pretty wench, only to stop midway to look up and down your frame, and say your face would do well enough to please him for his time in the meadow.

You remember the face Aerion made well. How he used the same cadence uttered when Dunk properly introduced himself as a knight, taking the pouch of gold coins he had drop by your feet, away from your hands and into his pocket. "A pity you are not a whore. I bet you'd sound all pretty beneath me."

Your face still turns bright red at the memory.

His silver locks were far to noticeable, so you insisted Aerion shave it just like Daeron did with Egg. As expected, he refuses, nearly grabbing the blade in your hands to threaten you with it, thankfully however, the trial of the seven had left him far to weak to put up an any real fight.

You decided that it was rather unfair how his charm still remained intact despite the buzz cut.

"It's not awful..." He murmured after spotting his reflection once. "Though that's mostly to do with my looks rather than your skill."

You take note to leave some nicks in his cut the next time.

Kept whining about having to mingle with the small folk once it was time for the three of you to leave.

"I should skin the both of you whilst you sleep if you think I'd find comfort underneath some weirwood tree and eat in the busted old taverns of the peasantry."

Whined even more when Egg came and said that Maekar "allowed" him to go with you.

"Father asked me to keep an eye on him and to report to Summerhall if he does anything dishonorable." Egg grinned, before hoping onto Chestnut with you.

"How nice of your father to give us a harsher leash." You made sure Aerion saw your smile. You both knew you'd be the one penning most of those letters of complaint soon enough- with you and Egg switching the top spot from time to time depending on how stupid his older brother would be.

You also knew that was Maekar giving Egg permission was a massive lie but you kept it to yourself. The more people in your troupe, the easier it would be to drown out the noise which they called Brightflame. You would simply deal with the consequence of Egg stowing away with you later.

Dunk 100% believes Egg, but is exasperated at the thought of traveling with not only one, but two Targaryen princes.

Aerion just rolls his eyes and kisses his teeth.

"We should probably set up camp soon, once the sun sets. Me and my sister usually keep at it at this hour but Prince Aerion might not be able to last down the road with his injuries not fully healed. He would need to rest soon."

"I don't see why the palfrey wouldn't be able drag his sleeping body behind us, I have some extra rope if that is your concern." You'd smirk. Dunk threatens to give you a clout in the ear beneath his breath.

"You would need to volunteer your mare then, considering it has experience carrying around the heavier set of ladies."

Aerion takes up camp a few feet further away from you. While the rest of you slept beneath the stars, he decides to set up the small tent he had brought and rest there.

No one really stopped him. Egg wondered out loud if he should take some of the camp fire and light it on fire with Aerion in it. Both you and Dunk had to bite down a chuckle at the suggestion less he thought the two of you approved

Once the three of you catch some fish in a nearby pond and turn it into a delicious meal, you quickly eat and get ready to go to bed. Not before leaving some handfuls of the dinner by Aerion's tent flap.

"Hurry up or else the birds will end up eating it." You yelled from your sleeping spot, the wind whistling lullabies as it sways you to sleep, Egg curling into you to capture some sense of warmth.

Dunk wonders before he closes his eyes if he was the one being punished.

You wonder the same thing before drifting off yourself.

authors note: wow first ficlet on tumblr done lmao. Genuinely my favorite parts of akotsk is its whimsy and cozy vibes so i thought why not make something with that kind of vibe ehehehe let me know if anyone is interested in seeing actual formal chapters of this huhuhu and go ahead and share your thoughts!

[mys1eriesofmymind]

Something Soft and Certain

Fluff - Fluff - Fluff -Fluff

Summary- A quiet night at Hayvenhurst leads to a conversation about love, devotion, and the kind of relationship that feels like it could last forever. Michael listens a little too closely. (1.6k words)

this req answered

Author’s note- Today is the day of his passing, so I will be posting a lot. I wanted it to feel like one of those moments where nothing big happens on the outside but everything changes internally.

The first time Michael noticed you, you were fourteen years old, sitting cross legged on the carpet of the Jackson family living room with a bowl of popcorn balanced carefully in your lap. The house was loud in the way it always was when everyone gathered at once. Voices overlapped, someone laughed too loudly, a chair scraped across the floor, and yet you stayed focused on the old black and white movie playing on the television like nothing else in the room existed.

That was what made him look at you first.

Not because you were trying to stand out. Not because you were trying to be seen. But because you weren’t.

A soft laugh slipped out of you at something on the screen, small and genuine, like it belonged only to you and the moment that caused it. Michael’s voice faded mid sentence while he was talking to his brothers. He didn’t even realize he had stopped speaking until he noticed he was no longer listening to himself.

He was listening to you instead.

After that, he started noticing things he didn’t expect to notice.

Not in a way that felt strange or overwhelming. It felt more like paying attention without meaning to, like his mind had quietly decided you were worth keeping track of.

The way you always went for the marshmallows in Lucky Charms before anything else.

The way your fingers moved absentmindedly against the cold glass of your drink when you were thinking, tracing little shapes only you could see.

The way you seemed drawn to older things, old music, old films, old stories that most people your age dismissed without a second thought. Stories about love that felt too big or too patient or too devoted to be real.

But you never called them unrealistic.

You looked at them like they were something to hope for.

Michael remembered all of it without trying to.

Years passed the way they always do, quietly and without asking permission. Now you were older, and the world outside the Jackson home had changed, but somehow this moment felt familiar in a way neither of you talked about.

Rain pressed softly against the windows of Hayvenhurst, steady and calming, turning the outside world into a blurred painting of gray and silver. You were curled into the corner of the couch with your feet tucked underneath you, flipping through television channels with slow, lazy movements like you weren’t in any rush to find anything in particular.

Michael sat nearby, not too close, not too far, his attention drifting more than it settled. His hands were occupied with the rings he always wore, turning them gently without really thinking about it.

Then the screen caught your attention.

An old movie appeared, black and white, slightly grainy, and your expression changed immediately. It was subtle, but Michael noticed anyway.

“I love this movie,” you said, like it was something you had been waiting to find.

Michael’s eyes lifted at your voice, and for a moment the rest of the room disappeared. He had not been paying attention to the television at all. He rarely did when you were around. It was always easier to pay attention to you instead.

“You do?” he asked quietly.

There was something about the way he asked questions when you spoke about things you cared for. It never felt like interrogation. It felt like interest that had nowhere else to go.

You nodded faintly, still watching the screen. “Yeah. I think it’s far out.”

He let that sit for a second, not because he didn’t understand you, but because he liked the way you said things. The way your thoughts sounded when they left your mouth.

“What is it called again?” he asked, even though he had the feeling you had told him before.

You glanced at him with a small, knowing look. “You forgot?”

A soft, slightly embarrassed smile appeared on his face.

“Maybe.”

You laughed under your breath, not unkindly, and turned back toward the television.

“It’s The Addams Family.”

On screen, Gomez Addams lifted Morticia’s hand and kissed it like it was the most natural thing in the world to treat someone with that kind of devotion.

Michael noticed the way you watched that moment like it meant something more than just a scene.

“Why do you like it so much?” he asked.

You paused, your chin resting lightly on your knee as you thought about it. The question didn’t feel strange to you. It never did when it came from him. Michael had always been curious in a way that made you feel like your answers mattered.

Still, tonight something about his attention felt different. Not louder. Just closer.

“The characters feel real to me,” you said after a moment.

He tilted his head slightly, listening without interruption.

You gestured faintly toward the screen. “Take Gomez. What other man talks about his wife like that? He acts like he adores her every second of the day.” A soft, almost dreamy smile touched your lips. “And Morticia is the same way with him. They don’t act like they’re tired of each other or bored or anything like that. They just choose each other. Over and over again.”

Michael stayed quiet, but he didn’t look away.

“I think that’s what love is supposed to be,” you continued more softly. “Not something you hide or tone down or get embarrassed about. Just… devoted.”

The word settled in the room like it belonged there.

Outside, the rain kept falling in a steady rhythm against the glass.

On the television, Gomez once again reached for Morticia’s hand like he had done it a thousand times and would do it a thousand more.

You watched it with a faint smile, almost lost in your own thoughts.

“I want something like that someday,” you said, simple and honest, like you were stating a fact about the weather.

Something in Michael shifted at that. Not visibly. Not in a way anyone else would notice. But inside, it felt like something warm and quiet tightening in his chest.

Because he understood you in a way you did not fully see yet.

He understood how deeply you meant things when you spoke like that. He understood how you didn’t say things for attention. You said them because they were real to you.

And because of that, every word mattered.

He looked down for a moment, focusing on the rings on his fingers so he wouldn’t stare too openly. His thumb moved slowly against one of them, a small grounding habit he had when his thoughts became too full.

Devoted.

The word stayed with him.

The room felt warmer than it had a moment ago, or maybe it was just that he was noticing it differently now. The storm outside made the windows flicker occasionally with pale light, and each flash seemed to briefly highlight the way you sat there completely unaware of the effect you had on him.

“You think it’s silly, don’t you?” you asked suddenly.

His head lifted immediately.

“What?”

“The whole Gomez and Morticia thing,” you said, adjusting slightly against the cushion. “People always think it’s dramatic or unrealistic.”

Michael’s expression shifted right away, almost protective in a quiet way.

“I don’t think it’s silly,” he said.

You turned to look at him fully now.

He didn’t rush his words. He rarely did when it mattered.

“I think people just get embarrassed about loving someone like that,” he continued. “About caring that much.”

That made you quiet for a moment.

The television continued playing, but neither of you were really watching it anymore.

Michael leaned back slightly against the couch, but his attention stayed completely on you. “If you really love somebody,” he said carefully, choosing each word as if it had weight, “you should show it. All the time. Not just sometimes.”

Your chest tightened slightly at the simplicity of it.

“Even after a long time?” you asked.

He nodded once.

“Especially then.”

There was no hesitation in his voice. No doubt.

His eyes flicked briefly toward the screen before returning to you again.

“Gomez still looks at Morticia like he can’t believe she’s real,” he said softly.

A small smile formed on your face. “Exactly.”

“And she looks at him the same way.”

That made you smile wider, something warm and easy settling into your expression.

Only then did you notice it more clearly. The way Michael listened when you spoke. The way he remembered things you had said long before. The way he looked at you like your thoughts were something worth holding onto.

Your voice softened a little.

“You’ve thought about this before,” you said.

A quiet, shy laugh left him.

“Maybe a little.”

Outside, the rain continued, steady and patient, as the movie carried on without either of you really paying attention anymore.

You shifted slightly, hugging your knees closer. “You know what I think?”

Michael looked at you.

“What?”

You hesitated just long enough for it to feel thoughtful rather than uncertain.

“I think you’d love someone like that too,” you said gently.

The words landed quietly between you.

Michael’s breath caught, subtle but real.

Because you had no idea.

No idea how carefully he remembered you.

No idea how often he noticed the smallest things about you that nobody else seemed to see.

No idea how easily his mood changed just from hearing your voice.

No idea that everything you were describing, every soft idea about devotion and love, already lived in the way he felt about you in a way he never said out loud.

He looked down again, almost reflexively, as if that could hide anything.

And then, barely more than a breath, almost lost beneath the sound of the rain outside, he said it.

“I think I already could.”

taglist: @woolenh @darkgreengrl @bellaswanreincarnated4

[lawless-revelry]

I loveeee your yandere stories they scratch an itch I’ve been trying to get rid of. I feel like you’d write a really good pov of the yandere’s experience to their darling escaping. OR like both pov at the same time. That’s if only you take suggestions! If not, feel free to ignore this!

here u go

⏾ ⋆.˚ tw: yandere-isms, drowning, manipulation

⏾ ⋆.˚ gender neutral darling tries to run away from their yandere

Seaside Escapism

when he came home, you weren't where he left you

normally, you'd be perched at your room's nook like a bird in a cage, complete with the bars in front of the window to prevent you from slipping out. you tried to ignore those, focusing instead as the cold ocean's waves crash into the cliffs in the distance. your new home was close to the ocean. he thought you would like that.

he gave you a lot of things he thought you might like, a bathroom adjacent to your room with always stocked with your favorite skin and hair products. the tiles by the tub were even painted your favorite color.

but you weren't in the bathroom. nor on your bed, (which was unmade as usual)

you were not where he left you. at least not in the open. he didn't show it on his face, caspian rarely showed anything on his face. his control of emotion was impeccable. but underneath the stone he was beginning to crack as he called your name over and over again only to get no answer. so he went seeking.

he checked all the little cracks and crevices you were fond of hiding in when you felt defiant or shy or when you just didn't want to be bothered. underneath your bed, inside the closet, hell- even in the bathroom cabinets. empty, empty, and empty again.

with every hiding spot that turned out to be fruitless, it became harder and harder to ignore the anxiety that was spreading out from the pit of his stomach. his disposition was chipping away, and it made his mind race.

you should've been happy when you were. why would you want to leave? what the hell would possess you to even think of leaving him? especially when you had been so good. so sweet for him. and every now and then the thought dared to cross his mind that you were finally content as he kissed you to sleep at night. that all his hard work had paid off, and those gentle and rare kisses you would gift him only convinced him further that you finally came around and he dared to think that dangerous thought more.

but his darling is a liar.

and that's the only thought on his mind now as he gawks at the window bars you sawed through, unaware a stray tear had slipped out of his eye and his jaw was slack.

you left him

and it was left staring at the broken bars of the window, faced with the reality that this had been a long time coming. he cursed himself for being blindsided by you, by your charms. it was his fault really for trusting you.

but it's his responsibility for to bring you back

you didn't even know where you were going,

how long you had been walking for. maybe an hour? maybe more. the sky had been swallowed with grey clouds and it made time harder to tell. and the fog that rose up from the earth made it harder to see.

you were too scared to walk down the dirt road; it was the only road around for miles. and it was the one he took. so you stayed in the trees hoping a car that wasn't his might pass but it never did.

you didn't bother to put on shoes; the prospect of freedom had bewitched your mind for months and so whenever you had even the slightest opportunity for it you got tunnel visioned. you spent months steadily sawing away at that rusted iron bar and when it finally budged from brute force, you threw yourself out of the window and never looked back.

your steps were light on the underbrush, subtly weary from walking but still determined to continue on. the longer you walked the more the dirt underneath your feet slowly gave way to pebbles and sand until the sounds of the forest were replaced by the push and pull of ocean tides and a saline scent slipping into your nose.

before you were the sea, the same old washed-out blue you spent hours at a time gazing out from your window. you hadn't seen the ocean in months, the sifting rhythm of gentle tide crashing into the shore beguiled you, and it looked so much better up close.

so you got closer.

then you heard a twig snap behind you, and it stunned you, whipping your head over your shoulder to see the exact face you dreaded the most

'please don't run.'

you didn't process what you heard, your legs had moved before your mind could direct them to and you were already sprinting down the sand dunes and onto the millions of pebbles scattered across the beach.

he was on your tail like a shadow, calling your name like a bad dream. 'y'n! y/n! y/n!' over and over again sparse between his pleading for you to return. that wasn't right. is what struck you. he wasn't supposed me to emotion. to be so vulnerable. 'y/n please don't run from me!'

you didn't expect there to be so much desperate in his voice, apart of you almost wanted him to be enraged, maybe then you wouldn't have to suppress the little voice inside you that urged you to run back into his arms.

'beloved, please!'

you felt his fingertips graze your arm as he reached out to you, you forced yourself to run faster even if it made your lungs burn up from behind your rib cage and your vision go dark. you kept running.

'it's okay- i'm not going to hurt you!'

his voice was soft even over the ocean ambience, 'just stop running and we can talk!'

'i don't want to talk to you!' you said breathlessly, but talking proved to be a mistake because you were choking right after. you didn't have enough air and will power only took you so far before you collapse to your knees in the sand, exasperated.

you expected him to pounce on you as soon as you fell but he didn't, he could've caught you, but he stopped in his tracks just a few meters away. he was giving you space. he was giving you a chance to come back.

'i can't go back with you!' you cried, 'not ever again!'

'beloved, i know you're upset-'

'stop calling me that!' you choked out between heavy breaths, 'i'm not your love and i never can be- you deranged psychopath!' forcing yourself back to your feet.

'you don't know what you're saying. you're just upset' for every step forward he took you took three steps back until you felt the peaking shore flicking at your ankles like serpents. 'gods...do you have any idea how worried i've been about you?'

tears had welled up in your gaze, whatever had triggered them specifically was the least of your worries with every step back you took into the shore. 'stop talking like that!' you were hopelessly sobbing now, 'you don't care about me, you took everything from me!'

'i gave you everything...i kept you safe- i gave you every last drop of love in my heart and expected nothing but your obedience in return.'

'but you couldn't even manage that, could you y/n?' caspian's face twisted up with something. not rage, or sorrow, not even vengeance. but disappointment, a parent frowning upon their child. then something softened within him as he stood before the shoreline. something fond gleaming in his eyes. 'but that's alright. there's nothing you could ever do that would make stop loving you, even for a second.'

in any other circumstances, hearing that would've been comforting. but it only made your stomach twist and curl. standing in the water, there was nowhere to go but deeper down and it had already reached your calfs.

'you're too precious for me to ever let go of'

you began to beg. 'please caspian.'

'so i won't...' his boots were waterlogged now, but he hadn't even seemed to noticed as he threw off his coat by the shower and followed after you. '...i won't ever let you go'

'caspian..!' the rocks below scraped your bare feet and the water's temperature bit into your skin like frost bite, 'don't- just- just let me go!' but you splashed through the water despite the tides beating against you.

you don't know what you were thinking. you weren't thinking at all, but you knew you didn't have a chance with him on steady ground. so, your brain clung onto the impossible, just a bit further into that endless horizon of deep blue.

you were nearly neck deep wading through the steady tides, the further you ventured, the more overpowering the forces beat against you, and you were erratic and panicked, you stumbled and then you were swallowed. thrown back and forth through the freezing water like a rag doll. once you lost control, it felt nearly impossible to gain it once more. one moment you were under and the next you were gasping for air, trying to find something stable beneath your feet to stand on.

you wouldn't find any solid ground, instead a hand would reach for the back of your shirt collar and hold on like a vice. gathering more of your form until he held you firmly with one arm and swam back to shallower waters with the other, and you clung onto him. you were scared to die. it was still scarier than leaning against him in the waist deep water and choking up salt water and shivering between your instinctive apologies.

'i'm sorry...'

'i know you are, angel.'

'i am too.'

in an instant, you were right back underneath the water, and this time it was because of his doing- and not your own. he dunked your head under and his ironclad grasp on the back of your neck made it impossible to get back up.

you knew you weren't going to get away with this scott free- but you never could've imagined that this was your punishment. that he could even be capable of holding you under until your lungs burned like lava.

and when he finally pulled you up, it was just to allow you to gasp and sputter for a brief moment.

'just know what you're feeling right now...isn't even a fraction of what i felt when you jeopardized everything, we worked so hard to create.' he stared down at your hopelessly struggling form. you were clawing at his wrists and fisting at his waist but your efforts were fruitless.

'you threw it away like it meant nothing.'

just when you felt like you might die, he gifted you with another brief moment of air.

'i do this out of love, everything i do for you...is because i love you.'

just to keep you alive long enough for him to scold you further, until he felt like you had learned your lesson. the cycle continued. you didn't even bother to beg, your mind was too focused on just surviving that it couldn't come up with any coherent plea, so you simply had to endure.

you knew it was over when he released your neck, when he allowed you to stumble through the shallows back to the shore where snot poured out from your nose, and tears from your eyes.

he lingered behind, watching you on your palms and knees, pressed to the sea drenched sand as you hurled the contents of your stomach out, it wasn't much really.

just the salt water you swallowed and stomach bile. too caught up in your own choking to do anything but cough and catch your breath for a solid minute.

when caspian approached, he reached for his coat and draped it around your trembling shoulders. his hand caressing your back was probably meant to be comforting but it only forced out a desperate whimper from you.

'have you had enough, my love?'

you nodded.

'do you want to go back home now?'

another hopeless nod.

'come here, beloved,'

caspian extended his arms, and you crawled right into them

he caried you back to his truck through the forest and to the dirt roadside, wrapped up in his coat, he sat you down in the passenger seat, climbing into his side to start the car.

the ride back home was silent.

i realized this is a little similar to smothering yandere, i prefer this one better i guess. feels more intimate, you know what i mean? then again that just may be my water signs talking. i love the ocean...anyway, hope this scratches the itch, friendly stranger.

another oc, caspain. still waters deep enough for you to drown in. his heart is colder than the ocean but it'll still swallow you whole whether you like it or not.

[urmirrorbvall]

Glitch I Harry Castillo x Journalist!fem!reader

summary: you don’t believe in love, you just write about it convincingly enough to get paid for it. You agreed to go on these blind dates instead of your heartbroken friend and for the column content and free dinners, never expecting anyone to see through it. But then Harry does, and instead of walking away, he makes you another deal.

content warnings will be individual for each chapter!

MASTERLIST:

Chapter 1: The Date

Chapter 2: The Boutique

Chapter 3: The Wedding

Chapter 4: A Way To Go

Chapter 5: The Conversations

Chapter 6: The Build Up

Chapter 7: The Double Date

Chapter 8: The Hamptons

Chapter 9: The Getaways

Chapter 10: A Foreign Feeling

Chapter 11: The Nicest Date

Chapter 12: The Weekends

Chapter 13: The Pretty Lies

Chapter 14: Risk

Chapter 15: A Real Date

Chapter 16: A Gather Up

Chapter 17: A Step Up

Chapter 18: An Article

Epilogue: What Love will do to you

Extras: to be announced!

a/n: okay, my plan is to update every week or every other week, but if you want to be added to the tag list you can go ahead and let me know :) lyyy take care x