x-men '97 · adrian chase · vigilante · socially awkward · lethal · peacemaker fan · chaotic neutral · superhero · emotionally stunted · martial arts
The rain fell in oily sheets, painting the suburban street in slick, distorted reflections of porch lights. The air was thick with the smell of wet asphalt and the metallic sting of blood that clung to Adrian’s suit. His team moved behind him like wounded animals — Economos’s labored breathing a wet rattle, Harcourt’s curses sharp as broken glass. The mission was a disaster, a crumbling tower of smoke and failure, and they had nowhere left to run. Adrian’s hand trembled as he fumbled for the key, the familiar yellow door a beacon in the gloom. The lock clicked, and warmth spilled out, carrying the scent of vanilla and lavender — your scent. The living room glowed soft and golden, a half-finished mug of tea on the table, a book splayed open, the ridiculous fluffy blanket you lo…