#got multiple class build ideas i want to mess around with and ive been thinking about which party members would work best together

[mcpicklebreath]

questions I have about astarion romance storyline, I have lots of thoughts about him and want help from people who have played already, uh spoilers for his early romance plot below

does anyone know if you have to have sex with astarion for his romance scenes to lead up to you both working together to figure out what you both really want?

haven't gotten to play yet, and while he's undeniability charming (like he's trying to be) I'd like to refuse him without it shutting off the romance if that's an option? I'd still want to pick flirty options when I think they'd be fun but the character I have in mind would see through the more performative bits and wouldn't really be interested in sex with someone they think is lying to them, it would fit the character more if they refused.

I'm okay with mild spoilers if it relates to his story.

I feel like the answer will be no, and given the story stuff with him I've seen I could understand why, but this game has a lot of branching options so thought I might as well ask!

and if it is possible and because of everything astarion is dealing with we don't end up fucking ever that's totally okay with me

[rosesisupposes]

Fall to Rise

Part 11 of Another Goddamn Hero Story

read on ao3

Chapter Relationships: Romantic LAMP; Familial LAMPT; Background OC pairings;

Chapter Warnings: Memories of trauma; questioning memories/reality; mentions of past death/murder; cadaver mention; Human experimentation; nonconsensual experimentation; cryogenic freezing; mention of blood loss

Word Count: over 7,600 i’m so sorry

Taglist: @residentanchor @royally-anxious@bewarethegrammarpolice   @jemthebookworm@arandompasserby  @sparkly-rainbow-salt @astral-eclipse@thelowlysatsuma @monsterinatophat @turtally-pawsome @um-yes-hi-hello @idkaurl @potestessemagishomosexualitatis@hawthornshadow

a/n: yeah, it's been a minute. i started law school, things got hectic. here’s a Lot of Things

D.R.E.A.M. Index #337501 [UPDATED] Classification: M.1.iv [Primary Tier Neutral, Unknown] Name: Agent Whisper Status: INACTIVE /////////Reason: Reformation-In-Progress, Enrolled Civilian Name: [CLEARANCE: TOP SECRET] Thomas Sanders Affiliation: Neutral Partners/Sidekicks: DI#A-4894 - Team Left Brain; DI#A-4895 - Team Right Brain; /////////The two teams volunteered to oversee his reformation Primary Foes: None Powers: Pathokinesis - Broad Spectrum; Illusions - Broad Spectrum; Self-Healing/Rejuvenation - Broad Spectrum; /////////[CLEARANCE: TOP SECRET] There have been multiple edits to this entry, and I’ve no idea why, and I can’t see the history. Can you check this? - Joan Costume: Black t-shirt with a skull that can change between white and floral, jeans. Age: 19 Height: 5’10” Pronouns: He/Him H.E.A.R.T.S. Class: Enrolled Note: Brother of DI#337437 - Gale Force; Presumed killed in IR15-Z-0632, apparently self-healed; Unclear if powers were created by [REDACTED], or if they were always present and [REDACTED]. /////////[CLEARANCE: TOP SECRET] Talyn, what’s going on? Why can’t I un-redact these phrases? /////////[CLEARANCE: TOP SECRET] I have no idea - these details weren’t added by me. It makes no sense. The note was added, and then edited and redacted. But from the code it looks like both changes were from… Logan?

~~~~~~

D.R.E.A.M. Index #337413 [UPDATED] Classification: Class A.2.iii [Secondary Tier Hero, anomaly] Name: Crimson Marauder Status: ACTIVE Civilian Name: [TOP SECRET] Roman Fitzroy Affiliation: Hero ///////// H.A.T.C.H. Status: On Call Partners/Sidekicks: member of DI#A-4895 - Team Right Brain; Works with DI#A-4894 - Team Left Brain; Primary Foes: N/A Powers: Psionic Construction; /////////Able to manipulate color of constructions along the red spectrum, unless it is a previously-created object being stored in a psionic pocket dimension; Constructs that have persisted need less energy to maintain; complete lack of consciousness can deconstruct Costume: Black Suit with Red Blocks, Gold Belt, Black and Red Cape with Gold accents; Black and gold mask Age: 25 Height: 5’ 11” Pronouns: He/Him H.E.A.R.T.S. Class N/A Note: Formerly known as Scarlet Prince, see DI#337321; Origin and family unknown

~~~~~~

D.R.E.A.M. Index #337437 [UPDATED] Classification: A.1.iv [Primary Tier Hero, unknown] Name: Gale Force Status: ACTIVE ///////// H.A.T.C.H. Status: Blackout Only Civilian Name: [CLEARANCE: TOP SECRET] Patton Sanders Affiliation: Hero Partners/Sidekicks: member of DI#A-4895 - Team Right Brain; Works with DI#A-4894 - Team Left Brain; Primary Foes: N/A Powers: Air Manipulation - Broad Spectrum; Costume: Grey calf-length tunic, slits up to waist with loose sleeves over loose white trousers; light blue belt; matching blue symbol of a hurricane across chest. Does not wear a mask. Age: 21 Height: 5’10” Pronouns: He/Him H.E.A.R.T.S. Class: Enrolled Note: Highly volatile, responsible for deaths of DI#265351 - Commander Eagle and DI#337236 - Silver Sparrow, see IR15-Z-0632; First appearance at Harmony City Foster Care; Origin and family unknown. ///////// Changed affiliation after unmasking of DI#337501 - Agent Whisper revealed to be his brother. Still unclear if he is an anomaly or if the Sanders bloodline is super, particularly because of DI#337501’s involvement in [REDACTED]. /////////[CLEARANCE: TOP SECRET] Talyn, it’s happened again here! Has Logan been messing in our files? /////////[CLEARANCE: TOP SECRET] Joan, this is really troubling - some of the edits have been made while I know Logan has been in the field. DREAM may have been hacked. I’m going to have to suspend all access until further notice.

~~~~~~ ~~~~~~

“Pat, are you sure about this?”

“Don’t worry. I’ll catch you.”

“This just feels like the superhero equivalent of a whoopie cushion. Or ‘down low, too slow.’”

Patton hugged his brother around the shoulders. “I mean it, Tommy Salami! You won’t be hurt.”

“It’s a long way down, though,” Thomas said, eyeing the edge of the roof nervously.

“Never fear! Your knight is here!” Roman announced, landing gently by the brothers with a smile. He bowed gallantly to the teen. “Sir Roman Fitzroy, on official Safety Net duty!”

Thomas smiled shyly. “You’re sure?”

“Of course, my Very Special Agent! Even if you can’t fly naturally, you’ll feel just like a bird,” Roman said, gesturing off the roof with a flourish. Floating in mid-air was a giant red cushion, soft, plush, and downy.

Other students at HEARTS were mingling around in various levels of trepidation and excitement. Some were confirmed flyers, ready to practice more and to build up their reaction time. Some were like Thomas, testing for latent abilities in a controlled environment. And some knew they couldn’t fly, but were here for the experience anyway.

“Ready?” the teacher called. A ten-year-old wearing what looked suspiciously like a beloved blankie tied around their neck like a cape clapped their hands and nodded. “Here we go!”

The teacher scooped the little one up and tossed them onto the trampoline, launching them into the air in a burst of surprised giggles. Their cape fluttered behind them as they bounced, eyes squeezed tightly shut. When they finally opened them, it was to realize they were floating about fifteen feet above the heads of their classmates.

“I doned it!”

“Yes indeed! You did it!” one of the older students said as their classmates clapped and cheered. The elder girl floated up serenely to their level. “Can you get down yourself?”

The child frowned and focused on their feet. Slowly, they lowered down to the ground once more, sparking another round of applause as the next student stepped up to try.

Finally, it was Thomas’ turn. There were rounds of encouragement from the crowd, though more subdued than they had been for the others. But the youngest students didn’t flinch or waver, just cheered as Thomas offered his hand to the teacher. Patton floated just by the edge of the roof, Roman at his side, ready with the enormous cushion to catch him should he go awry.

Virgil glided up beside the two just as Thomas was tossed onto the trampoline. He bounced high into the air, making a strangled yell that grew louder as he immediately started to plummet. But in a breath, air wrapped around him and he was gently deposited on his feet by Patton’s side.

He smiled shakily at his brother. “I guess you got the ginger and the flying genes, Pat.”

“You okay now?”

“Yeah, I’m good,” Thomas said. He looked over at the other students. The ten-year-old who’d gone first was going for a second turn, keeping their eyes open this time. “I think I’ll leave the flying attempts to the experts though. C.C. was right - they said they weren’t sure I’d like it.”

“Who’s-” Patton started, but one of the students walked over with impeccable timing.

“Hi! I’m CC! I’m in Thomas’ class.”

Patton grinned and shook their hand. “I’m Patton, Thomas’ brother.”

“And you’re also Gale Force,” CC said with a nod.

“Only when I’m in uniform! I wouldn’t want you all to think I’m full of hot air,” he replied with a wink.

They laughed brightly. “Ooh, can I add that to my list? I’m documenting super school, you see. The conversations here are so much fun to overhear!”

Patton agreed willingly, and asked about their favorites and classes, watching with pleasure as they drew Thomas into the conversation too. Not everyone was so comfortable with his brother, the shadow of his past still lurking in their minds.

CC smiled suddenly at the brothers, interrupting the conversation. “Did you know? You’re going to be happy.”

“Is that another prediction?” Thomas asked them. He slipped a hand into Patton’s, a tic of seeking reassurance that had been carrying them both through their school days.

CC shook their head, smiling softly. “It’s a guarantee.”

Only feet away, Virgil tugged Roman towards him, fidgeting with the papers in his other hand. “Hey, could you come over here for a second?” Roman looked nervously at Pat and Thomas, not wanting to leave them. Virgil smiled in understanding. “We won’t go far - I’ll help you keep an eye on them. I just want to be safely out of earshot.”

Roman followed him to the the other half of the roof, where the building rose up into the elevated classrooms. He was intrigued by whatever Virgil had to say, but still took the opportunity to slip a hand into his back pocket to squeeze his ass.

Virgil turned with a smile, bringing them chest to chest, and leaned down to steal a kiss. “Are you trying to distract me?”

“Depends, is it working?” Roman asked with a wink. The past month had seen them all maintaining a laser-sharp focus on Thomas and his recovery, leaving only the occasional night and stolen moment for them to solidify the affections they’d finally expressed in so many words. Virgil, Logan, and Roman all cared far more about supporting Patton in his reunion and joint recovery with his brother than escalating their relationship - but there were still the occasional moments where they couldn’t, or didn’t want to, restrain themselves.

Virgil drew back smirking, one brow raised. “Up to you, Princey. We can get distracted in the closet right around the corner, or I can share the surprise with you.”

Roman exaggerated his pout, circling Virgil’s muscled waist with both arms. “How dare you pit my love of your kisses against my love of surprises. Can’t I have both?”

Virgil kissed Roman’s temple. “Here, read this first, and maybe there’ll be time for distraction after.”

He handed Roman the sheaf of paper he’d been twisting in his hands. Roman smoothed out the crinkles and glanced over it. He did a double take and looked over it again, reading closer, mouth falling open as he went.

“A new foster home?”

“Not just any foster home,” Virgil said, a smile slowly stretching across his face. “One that’ll allow supers to stay together with non-supers. One that’ll work with HEARTS without making kids leave their home to learn.”

“For them?” Roman asked, glancing back across the roof at Patton and Thomas.

Virgil nodded. “For them and everyone like them. And if a kid is staying there, there won’t be a cost to go to HEARTS. I’m working on Joan to allow the normal foster allowances to go towards school fees.”

Roman smoothed the paper again with hands that shook slightly. “For me,” he said quietly. It wasn’t a question, but Virgil nodded all the same, resting a comforting hand on his boyfriend’s waist.

Roman’s eyes filled slightly as he smiled up into Virgil’s dark ones. “Virge, this is wonderful . Where’s it going to be? Who’s gonna run it?”

Virgil rubbed the back of his neck, chuckling slightly. “My family’s house, actually. It was my moms’ idea. I already have to talk them out of adopting every single friend they meet - what if I just… didn’t talk them out of it? And I’m hoping that this means Thomas won’t ever have to be on call. His detail can just be protecting the kids, maybe keep Pat with him too-”

Any further words were cut off by Roman tugging his head down to silence him with enthusiastic kiss after kiss. “You wonderful, brilliant, beautiful man,” Roman said in between kisses. “You’re so considerate and sweet and smart!”

The packet of papers were discarded as Virgil responded with equal enthusiasm despite a spreading blush. Roman summoned a discreet wall around them, preempting any students stumbling by.

They could tell the others the news later, at a less interesting time.

~~~~~~

That evening found the brothers Sanders taking time away from the other students again. Mealtimes were fine, but the atmosphere after dinner, where teens and kids and young adults all mixed and played in the common areas still had twinges of uncomfortable familiarity.

So Thomas sat instead with his brother on the roof of the school in the setting sun, staring out at the reflection of the clouds on the harbor. The light bathed his face in blood-red tones as he listened to the crash of waves and call of gulls.

“Patton, I’ve been meaning to ask,” he started, then paused with a nervous laugh. “I don’t know that I really want to know, but I have to find out sometime. How do I know when it became real?”

“What do you mean, kiddo?”

“I spent so long hallucinating in what I think was the facility. But I saw myself escaping almost every day. When did I do it for real? When did I start infecting everyone else with my visions?”

Patton turned to look at his brother. The boy looked scared, but his face was set, even as he refused to make eye contact.

“It was a bit over a month ago that the first attack came,” Patton supplied.

“What happened in that one, Pat?” Thomas asked. His voice was strained and distant.

“Are you sure you want to know, Tommy? You didn’t know what you were doing, you can’t blame yourself-”

“Yes I can, Patton!” Thomas interrupted. “I have to! I didn’t know it was real, but I still chose to attack innocent people, even if I thought they were just illusions. I could have stayed nonviolent, I could have just tried to hide from it all, but I just… it hurt, so much, every time I watched the home collapse around me, every time I had to feel the fire and bricks blasting through us, and I lashed out. I need to know what I did. How else will I ever make up for it?”

Tears leaked out of Patton’s eyes. “You’re… Thomathy, I know you will make up for all of it. We both will. I lashed out, too. We’ll work hard, and we’ll become the heroes we needed when we were younger. We’ll help.”

Thomas grabbed Patton’s hand, squeezing too tightly. “I still need to know, Pat. What did I do that was real? What happened that first time?”

Patton sucked in a shaky breath. “How many of our friends do you remember, from before? From when we were kids?”

Thomas closed his eyes. “I remember… I remember Leo. And Derri and Dahlia. And… Ms. and Miss Parson.” He opened his eyes, looking anxiously at Patton. “Am I right? Were they real?”

“They were real,” Patton confirmed. “They were our Hundred-Acre Wood friends and our moms, or the closest we got.” He steeled himself, breathing in deep. “Do… do you remember Damien?”

Thomas frowned, responding slowly. “Yes, I think I do. He was older than me? He left, early. There was… something happened. An accident?” He looked for confirmation.

“Sort of. The experiments weren’t an accident, but the fire in the lab was. Dam’ got adopted and then the man who’d taken him turned out to be not very nice.”

Thomas stiffened at the mention of ‘lab’, but he squeezed Patton’s hand tight and forced himself to relax. “I… yes, I remember. Did he…?”

“He survived, but we didn’t know it. I only learned he was alive recently… the day of your first real attack. He was transformed, given powers, so he got sent here instead of back home.” Patton gestured to the brick school underneath them. “Tommy… do you remember who was with Damien when he left?”

Thomas spoke sadly, eyes fixed on the horizon, staring off into distant haze of remembrance. “Val. Valerie. Kanga. She… we lost her too.”

Patton swallowed. “She… was in the same place as Damien.”

“And the same thing happened to her?” Thomas turned to look at Patton, his eyes searching for confirmation. At Patton’s nod, he looked off, eyes flitting as he poured through his twisted, unclear memories. “I dreamed about her a lot. I saw her so many times. She kept coming back, sometimes the same age I remember her, sometimes older. One time she brought me Teddy. But usually she just hated me. She blamed me for letting her go and letting her get hurt and... I could never help, never enough.”

Patton squeezed his brother’s hand. “What was the last time you saw her?”

Thomas frowned. “I… the day I hurt Roman. She was there, angry with me, telling me that Roman was the reason she was so hurt. She had burn scars from his light powers, and dark bruises all over.” He looked up. “What that real?”

“No, it wasn’t, kiddo. Roman never met her,” Patton said. Tears were coursing down his face, and his voice was thick. “The last real time was three days before that. She… she was given powers too, like Damien, but they were painful. She had feathers growing out of her skin, purple and black ones…”

Thomas scrambled to stand, backing away from his brother. “No. No, you’re lying! That time wasn’t real, it couldn’t have been!”

Patton stood too, grabbing Thomas’ hand before he walked off the roof by accident. Tears continued to fall down his face. “I’m sorry, Tommy. It’s real.”

“But that means that I-” Thomas choked out, and then the sobs took over as he crumpled to the ground. His entire body shivered and convulsed as the reality of his actions took hold.

Patton knelt with him, trying to hold as much of him as possible, crying into his shirt. “You didn’t know,” he whispered. “You didn’t mean it.”

“But I did it anyway!” Thomas wailed. “What have I done, Pat? What kind of monster am I?”

“The one you were made into,” his brother said, voice hardening despite his grief. “The one the world created, leaving you behind. Like they left me behind.”

“The world didn’t create me, Pat,” Thomas responded. “People did, and I did.”

Now Patton looked at him in confusion. “The heroes? They created me too. They’re part of the world.”

“No, Pat. The people in that facility. The lab. Whatever it was.”

Patton hesitated. “I don’t want to make you talk about it, but… what do you remember of that place? Do you remember faces?”

Thomas wiped his eyes. “No. Maybe I did once, but I- no, I don’t want to remember. It’s too much. Too much pain and fire and…” He curled in on himself again. “Please don’t ask me to remember them, ” he asked in a tiny voice.

Patton wrapped his arms around as much of him as he could, holding him close. “I won’t. I’m sorry, Tommy. It’s okay now. You’re here. You’re safe.”

Thomas reached up a hand to bunch in Patton’s shirt, gripping tightly. “Is this real?” he whispered.

“Real, Thomas. It’s real.”

~~~~~~

Things weren’t always great. Logan had learned to be okay with that. Thomas had nightmares, waking in cold sweat and anger, lashing out at anyone who got close. But slowly, he was recognizing them all faster, seeing them as safe. Recovery would be a long road, but they were all on their way. Virgil had started therapy, partly at Logan’s urging and partly as encouragement for Roman and the Sanders to go too. Logan came sometimes for group sessions, more a supporter than a patient. Roman and Patton had nightmares too, but they always woke to the tangle of limbs in the enormous bed that now dominated most of Virgil’s apartment bedroom. They had a good arrangement, even if Logan was finding that he became far too easily flustered by Roman and Patton’s much more overt forms of affection. It was new and intriguing, but the frequency with which he blushed now was, frankly, embarrassing.

He had time to discover all the new shades of red he was able to turn because the level of super activity had also dropped sharply. Virgil and Logan hadn’t been called since that last attack, and they’d been reveling in their newly-free time by exploring the city as civilians, bringing their boyfriends and Thomas out to the Skylar home in surburbia, and taking them on leisurely flights above the cloud cover. When Logan received a call one morning to go see the mayor at City Hall, he was more intrigued than alert.

“Virge, wanna come?”

“Hm, I didn’t get the call, you think I could?”

“Why not? It’s just Joan.”

“You’re right. C’mon, starlight. Want a lift?”

They walked into the office together, stopping short as they realized the alert hadn’t been quite the casual call they’d assumed. The windows were blocked out with heavy shades. The table was covered in printout and status reports that threatened to drown a very frazzled-looking Talyn in paper.

“Joan, Talyn, what’s going on? You needed to speak with me?” Logan asked. “I brought Virgil, I hope that’s okay…”

Joan paced backed and forth, their normal worry lines looker much deeper than normal. They paused one or twice, about to speak, but glanced at Virgil and Logan, then around the room, and away as they resumed pacing. Finally, they sighed and asked, “Can we go to the roof?”

The roof of City Hall was the same graceful style as the rest of the Neo-Renaissance building, with swooping arches and balustrading that made it stand apart from the marble of the other government buildings. The roof had a cupola that had clearly been designed to make it even more distinctive. Now, it functioned as an entrance for flying supers into the building, one that Virgil preferred if he was arriving without Logan. But that wasn’t its only purpose.

“I’m going to turn on the dampers,” Joan told them bluntly as they filed into the small space from the stairwell.

Logan stiffened in shock, glaring at the mayor.

Virgil reached out a gentle hand to rest on his boyfriend’s back. “I trust it’s for a good reason?” he asked Joan drily.

The mayor nodded. “It’s not about you two. It’s to keep other powers out. I really, really don’t want anyone to overhear.”

Logan sighed, his shoulders falling from their tense position. “I know you wouldn’t ask if it weren’t important. Go ahead.”

Talyn quickly tapped in a PIN on one of the columns, then a now-glowing button. Walls of light blinked into being around them and sealed over the entrance to the rest of the building. Virgil flexed and stretched his free arm. Knowing that his strength and durability were being neutralized wasn’t a comfortable feeling, even if he understood that it was sometimes necessary. He kept the other hand solidly on Logan’s lower back, feeling the man tremble slightly and offering comfort.

“What’s so important that needs all this secrecy, Mayor Stokes,” Logan asked, voice clipped.

Talyn came over with their tablet in both hands. “It’s the database. DREAM’s been compromised.” There was a slight tremor in their hands as they showed Logan the screenshots from the most recently-updated records. “I created this tool, and Joan is the highest-ranking official in the city, and neither of us can read these edits. All we know is that according to the system, you were the one making them.”

Logan took the tablet, staring hard. Finally he looked up. “I didn’t make these changes.” Three pairs of eyes looked back in concern. “But,” he continued, looking at the screen in confusion, “I think I know who did.”

“And who would it be?”

“Drs. Atticus and Portia Lancaster,” Logan said. “My parents. I- it looks like it might be related to their work on the origin of powers. They’ve been hinting at some more exciting experiments.”

“Hold up,” Joan interjected. “Why didn’t I know about this?”

“It was all under the umbrella of EANSC 2.0, and my understanding was they weren’t sure there was anything to find, let alone brief you on. If you didn’t read the full reports, you might not have noticed,” Logan said, removing his glasses to rub his temples. His fingers shook, but his voice remained steady, if a bit detached. “I don’t know the full details myself. If I’d known you hadn’t been informed, I would have procured a summary for you.”

“Lo, we need to get these dampers off and go talk to them,” Virgil said. “If they can tell us more about how to help Thomas, we need to know sooner rather than later.”

Logan replaced his glasses. “Yes. Yes, of course. I- Yes. We shall do that. Yes.”

Virgil paused in his pacing and came over, cupping Logan’s chin in his hand. “Lo? Are you alright?”

Logan looked up at him and attempted a smile. “I… I am trepidatious. I am unclear as to why they would have neglected to inform me, if they made a breakthrough like this seems to imply.” His voice sounded oddly formal and strained. “Let us go discuss with them at once. And, Virgil, if you would - permit me to take the lead, as it were. I am quite confident there will be a perfectly reasonable explanation for all of this. We need only ask without accusation, and it should be all revealed to us.”

“Logan-” Joan started, but Logan just shook his head. Talyn typed in their PIN again to deactivate the dampers.

“You’ll at least let us know what they say?” Joan asked as Logan and Virgil stepped to the edge of the cupola.

Logan took a deep breath and looked back. “You’ll be the first.” He stepped off the edge, becoming a blur as he did so.

Virgil nodded to both Joan and Talyn before leaping out to follow his partner.

~~~~~~

“Logan! Virgil! What a lovely surprise!”

The Drs. Lancaster were both in their lab at the university, and Portia greeted them both with a smile and a little wave. Her red hair was pulled back into a bun, but wavy strands had popped free, held back only by the headband tied into a bow. Virgil had asked, once, how no one ever recognized the former public face of Harmony City’s Heroes, even if she had changed her last name. The doctor had winked, tapping her frames, and said, “It’s all in the glasses.”

Her husband was able to pause his work too and came over smiling. Virgil had always liked the Docs - they’d welcomed him into their home as his ‘City Family,’ once it became clear he couldn’t commute out to his mums in the suburbs as much as he would have liked.

He really, really hoped that Logan was correct.

“What brings you ‘round, big guy? It’s been months!” Atticus asked, going for a hug. Virgil didn’t so much hug back as he patted the man’s shoulders awkwardly, glancing meaningfully at Logan.

The young man cleared his throat. “Mom, Dad, I have a question for you.”

Atticus’ eyes lit up, looking at Virgil and back to his son. “Are you asking us for our blessing, finally?”

Logan did a slight double-take. “Beg pardon?”

Portia chuckled, slinking an arm around Atticus’ waist. “Your father here has been hoping you’re going to make an honest man out of Virgil soon.”

Virgil blushed deep crimson at that. “I- uh. Our boyfriends might object if we got married without them?”

Logan elbowed him. “Virge, I hadn’t told them that yet-”

“Shit-”

“Boyfriends? Multiple? Are you starting a collection?” Atticus asked, blinking. “Is it like a butterfly collection, are you collecting taxonomic details?”

Logan cleared his throat. “No, Dad. I- Virgil and I have started mutually dating Roman and Patton. All four of us as equal romantic partners.”

A slight crease formed in Portia’s forehead. “Roman and Patton? Have we met them?”

“Not as such, no,” Logan said, not meeting either parents’ eyes as he fiddled with his glasses.

Atticus and Portia stared in a mixture of confusion and concern. Logan shot Virgil a pleading look, linking their fingers together.

Virgil flinched. This conversation was far more personal than he’d been prepared for, but he’d gotten them into this mess in the first place. “You may know them by their super names - Crimson Marauder and Gale Force.”

Logan squeezed Virgil’s fingers so tightly that he would have bruised, if he ever bruised.

Portia pursed her lips, the wrinkle in her brow becoming more pronounced. “Weren’t you fighting them, dear?”

“Yes, Mother, I was,” Logan started. “But things, ah, changed. And they’re reformed now.”

Virgil wasn’t sure he’d ever seen Atticus’ face in something that had to try so hard to taken as a smile. “But they’re villains, Lo?”

“They were villains,” Virgil clarified. “They both went through-- god, they went through some rough shit, and the anger from their experiences made them more villainous for a while there. But they really are wonderful men, and they’re nonviolent now.”

“Well. I suppose such a thing is possible, hypothetically,” Portia replied. She tapped her lips with a long, elegant finger. “If trauma was so involved in their moral failings, what on earth could have shaken them enough that they’re now attempting to erase them?”

If Virgil had been a cat, he would have hissed. Instead, his shoulders and back stiffened even as a chill ran down his spine. He exhaled slowly, making sure he didn’t accidentally squeeze Logan’s hand back. Feeling like this, he might hurt him inadvertently.

“Actually, Mother, Father, the answer to that question is the very question we have come to ask,” Logan said. He stood ramrod straight, meeting his mother’s eyes levelly despite the difference in their heights.

“What’s with the fancy-talk, Lolo?” Atticus asked, chuckling uncomfortably. “We’re all family here.”

“Speaking of family,” Logan continued, “Patton and Roman found their perspective on what makes a hero or villain dramatically changed by the events of the last several months. This was largely to the reappearance of Patton’s brother, Thomas Sanders.”

Virgil had never quite determined if his acute awareness of others’ body movements was part of his powers, or if it was just the natural power of anxiety. But it was enough for him to notice that both the Drs. Lancaster blinked in a way that looked a lot like recognition.

“That may be another name you have not heard, I am aware,” Logan continued. “But I am quite confident you know who he is. His alias was Agent Whisper.”

Portia gasped. “Goodness, how upsetting for your friend that his brother was such a terror upon our city! No wonder he was so upset. Such a reveal, and losing even an evil sibling would be terrible, I’m sure.”

“Dr. Lancaster,” Virgil cut in, “Patton didn’t lose his brother again. Thomas is also in reform. I thought you knew.”

“How would I know, dear?”

“Because you’ve been in the DREAM Index,” Logan replied, taking back the thread.

Atticus smiled, round cheeks crinkling. “Lo, you know she doesn’t have access to that anymore! They can’t let just anyone see all the supers’ data!”

“But you two do. You asked for my information, when I handed off my dissertation. To cross-reference, you said.”

Portia pursed her lips. “We did, didn’t we. It must have slipped my mind.”

Logan frowned. “Mother. Please. One of you has been making edits under my name. I’d like to know why, and what it has to do with Thomas.”

“That was me,” Atticus said. “I was preserving the integrity of our research. You know how important that is.”

“Which research was being implicated?” Portia asked conversationally, as if her only son wasn’t still staring her down.

“Project Charcoal.”

“Ah, a good call, my love. That’s far too sensitive to be revealed.”

“Even to the mayor?” Virgil asked innocently. “Because not even they could see past the redaction.”

Atticus walked over to the lab bench. “Lo, come sit. No need to be so suspicious - you know we’ll tell you everything.”

Logan looked to Virgil automatically, who shrugged in response. Are we ready to do this? Do we have a choice? They squeezed their interlocked hands and sat across the bench from the doctors.

“So. My dissertation became Project Charcoal,” Logan stated.

“Yes, that’s what it came to be called,” Portia said. “EANSC 2.0 was too much of a mouthful, and lost accuracy.”

“And you didn’t tell me this sooner because…?”

“You never asked, kiddo,” Atticus said with a smile. “We were telling you about our experiments - the refining of the dampener field, the RNA sequencing, that’s all under the project!”

Logan frowned. “And yet, there is clearly more that you neglected to mention.”

“Well, yes, but we didn’t want to distract you. Your hero work was more important,” Portia explained. “We were continuing our research on side-effects of EAs on civilians and it ended up being merged together, that was really the only big change we didn’t tell you about.”

“...the side-effect research?” Virgil asked quietly.

“It started after the Mystic Magician,” Logan explained. “He managed to succeed, in a terrible way. The Viper is proof of that, and the Condor was too. But it rocked the conventional understanding of enhanced abilities. My parents and the larger genetic research community started looking into whether or not civilians were affected by being exposed to active abilities.”

Atticus nodded. “We wanted to minimize collateral damage beyond what could be seen. Were bystanders being slowly mutated? Was the density of supers here self-fulfilling? So we looked at both demographic data and autopsies of casualties from super fights. We started seeing the beginnings of patterns, but nothing definite. And then we hit a wall completely when Logan was about nine years old.”

“And then, in a fluke, we discovered the EANSC - the Neutralization & Stasis Chamber. And the dampening field,” Portia said, eyes alight. “An electromagnetic field that affected the use of powers. For the first time ever, there was the idea that abilities could actually be affected externally. We had a whole new way to conceptualize the side-effects and to focus our research. And only two years after we perfected EANSC enough to implement, Logan joined us in studying just how the emotional effects of the dampers were connected to the use of abilities.” She smiled fondly at her son. “If we hadn’t been inspired before, getting to work with you was what really did it.”

Logan smiled back, relaxing. “Thanks, Mom.”

Virgil was frowning, though. “But what were you looking for?”

Logan grinned at his boyfriend, squeezing his hand. “We’re scientists, Virge, isn’t it obvious?”

Virgil raised an eyebrow.

Logan opened his mouth to speak at the same time as his mother did the same.

“A greater understanding of the world!!”

“A way to stop supervillains forever.”

Logan whipped around, jaw going slack. “What?”

Atticus nodded. “Loberry, don’t be naive. We don’t get these kinds of resources just for being lecturers at the university. We don’t get highest clearance in the city for teaching undergrads how to run a simple gel electrophoresis. We’re on a direct research mandate from the State. Why do you think your mother thought this work was more important than remaining an active-duty hero?”

The blood was slowly draining out of Logan’s face. “I- she was taking time off for us, for me and Bea and Jem, right?” He looked at Portia, who smiled.

“Of course, dear, that too. But I’d been fighting for almost 20 years. I was practically a senior citizen in hero years. And I was so tired of fighting villains, over and over, knowing there would always be more. So when we were asked if we’d like to work towards ending the fight once and for all, I couldn’t very well say no!”

Virgil looked sick. “You- and what, you’d unmake villains? Like the Magician tried to make them?”

Atticus laughed. “Of course not! The Magician was so ham-handed, it was sloppily done and clearly had painful results. We wanted a painless way to remove the risk. Like declawing a cat.”

“Declawing a cat isn’t painless, it’s mutilation,” Virgil snapped. “It leaves them entirely unable to fend for themselves. Was that the plan? Non-heroes left defenseless?”

“In captivity, preferably, until we were sure they could re-enter society,” Portia said with a shrug. “It’s more humane that the life sentence they get now, except for those who break out.”

Logan had released Virgil’s hands, instead gripping the table until his knuckles had turned white. “You never told me,” he said to himself quietly. Shaking his head to clear it, he looked up. “You know more about Agent Whisper than you’ve admitted, too. Tell me. Now.”

Atticus made eye contact with Portia, who inclined her head.

“We examined bystander casualties directly after some incidents and were able to find electromagnetic signatures in the brains that resembled damper fields, but different in a very key way. They were equal and opposite. If the fields correspond to suppressed emotions, then these brains had their emotions intensified, instead.”

Virgil shivered at the thought, reaching for Logan once more under the bench. Without looking, Logan moved a hand to link their fingers once more. He kept his gaze fixed on his parents.

“If there was a heightened effect happening as collateral in bystanders, we thought, there was a chance we could recreate it deliberately,” Portia continued. “And if it persisted enough to show up in autopsy, that modulation in both directions could potentially be made permanent. We could replicate dampers without the tech! But we needed to look at side effects first. We had to wait for more casualties with exposure to extreme ability usage.”

Virgil felt a headache starting to drum in his temples, the ache of anger and tears that he refused to let fall as the pieces connected before him. “And you got the fucking golden opportunity, didn’t you. At the foster home. All of Pat’s rage and grief just created the goddamn ideal specimen.”

Atticus blinked at the venom in Virgil’s voice, but responded calmly,. “It was a tragedy. Heartbreaking, of course. But tragedy breeds emotion, and emotion is the lifeblood of your abilities.”

“We were only trying to use the fields to affect the brainwaves that hadn’t yet petered out,” Portia said, as if that excused it. “We shocked when we picked up a renewed heartbeat. But the brainwaves hadn’t changed. It was still brain-dead by any measure.”

“He.” Virgil’s voice was iron and blood as he spat out the correction.

Logan was paler than Virgil had ever seen him, even when he’d needed treatment for blood loss back in the earliest months of their heroing. “And you kept going? What happened to only experimenting on organ and science donors?”

Atticus smiled in confusion. “Lo, that was never the case. We didn’t perfect the EANSC with cadavers, we had villains to test with.”

“I’m sure they agreed to be lab rats, too,” Virgil accused.

Portia just shrugged. “Anyway, we kept the body in cryo except when running more tests. It still appeared to be brain-dead, right up until the day it- sorry, he,” she corrected exaggeratedly, ” He escaped. And started killing people.”

Logan looked ready to yell, his face yet, but he stopped and took a deep breath. “Are you familiar with his powers? Have you heard about what his memory of that time period is?”

“I’ve read the Index entry,” Portia replied blandly.

“He relived his entire life hundreds of times, and the accident at the foster homes thousands more,” Virgil said quietly, dangerously. “He saw everyone he loved die, then alive and loving him, then dying again. And when the memories were done replaying, new ones started being created. All emotionally charged, extremes of elation and sorrow and fury.”

Atticus looked at Virgil, eyes glinting with interest. “So you’re saying the prolonged exposure to the modified dampers actually created this power? Fascinating!”

“What the fuck, Dad?” Logan spat out. “This isn’t some mere curiosity! This is someone’s life. You destroyed the psyched of a real, living, breathing kid and all you care about is what it means for your fucking research grant?”

“Logan, there’s no need for such language,” Portia chided. Virgil shot a glare in her direction. She looked back, eyebrow arched. “It’s just research.”

“Research that you’re going to stop, correct?” Logan asked.

“When we’ve just gotten confirmation of the biggest breakthrough to date?” she asked incredulously. "We’ll take more precautions going forward, of course, but by no means will we stop. That would be illogical.”

Blood pounded in Virgil’s ears. “I’m sorry, what? You’re going to keep going? Hell fucking no.”

Portia narrowed her eyes. “Virgil, be serious here. This is too important to let a tantrum get in the way.”

“Oh, you want a tantrum?” Virgil rumbled. He stood, bracing himself in a fighting stance. “Let me show you what a tantrum looks like.”

“Don’t be ridiculous, I’m not going to fight you,” Portia scoffed, though she stood too. She looked over at her son. “Either of you.”

“So you agree to end the program then? Because it’s one or the other,” Virgil snapped. He tapped his watch decisively. “The mayor is hearing about this. Now or never, Professor Polarity . End this madness, or get ready to see your precious EANSCs up close and personal for the foreseeable future.”

Portia’s metal hair tie popped out of her bun, letting her hair fall free as the tie flew into the air beside her. She lifted her hand, and a metal apparatus flew from the back bench to her grip. “Don’t be stupid, Virgil. I’m immune to it. It’s an electro magnetic field. You, however, aren’t so lucky.” She flicked a switch on the machine, bringing it to life. The familiar glow of dampers show out the front.

“I’m sorry, Lo!” Virgil shouted, and dove at Atticus, easily manhandling him and trapping him, one arm around his neck. “Don’t try it, Portia. I don’t need powers to be able to cut off his air. You turn that on me, you won’t like what happens.”

“You see, Logan?” Portia said, not turning as she scowled at Virgil. “You see what happens? Virgil’s spent so much time with those villains that he’s resorting to their tactics. It’s a contagion. This is why they can’t be forgiven. What reformation can there be, when their lack of morals spreads so?”

Logan was frozen, eyes flicking between his boyfriend, who had his father caught in an uncomfortable chokehold, and his mother, who was pointing a weapon at his boyfriend.

“You don’t exactly have the moral high ground here,” Virgil growled at the former hero. “Unless torturing a child is considered a virtue now.”

“Use it, Porsh!” Atticus rasped around Virgil’s arm. His fingers scrabbled to get a grip, but Virgil’s muscles were unmovable. “He’s bluffing!”

“Am I?” Virgil asked. “You said it yourself, I’m clearly infected by the influence of my other boyfriends. Who knows what I’m capable of, now? I know you love your experiments, but you just might want to not put this particular hypothesis to the test.”

Portia sneered, her face managing to look lovely even when twisted in scorn. “Atticus, dear. I love you very much. I apologize in advance if the max setting hurt you, too.” She aimed the damper squarely at Virgil and hit the switch.

Except she didn’t. And her arms were tied behind her back with pure rope, nothing metal. And the damper was secured in a plastic bin at the corner of the lab. And Logan was standing between his mother and his boyfriend, chest heaving.

“Mom,” he said, voice breaking. “How- how could you? Why?”

“I’m a hero, Logan,” she replied, as steadily as someone who'd just been bound by a family member could be. “I serve the greater good. I thought I’d taught you that, but clearly I failed.”

“Don’t be so hard on yourself, my love,” Atticus interjected. Virgil had released his neck, though he kept his arms twisted up behind his back. “We both tried. It turns out he wasn’t as much a Lancaster as we’d hoped.”

“Shut up,” Virgil snapped. “I’m tired of your bile, both of you.” He turned to the window, seeing the reflection of flashing lights.

Logan had his back to them all. Virgil saw the quiver in his shoulders and knew he was crying and trying to hide it. He quickly grabbed a stray zip tie and secured Atticus by the wrists to the lab bench. Then he crossed to Logan and wrapped his arms around him.

He didn’t speak. He just let Logan turn and cling to him, face buried in his chest.

Let it out, love. I’ll keep the world at bay.

~~~~~~ ~~~~~~

D.R.E.A.M. Index #265345 Classification: A.2.i [Secondary Tier Hero, Legacy] /////////[CLEARANCE: TOP SECRET] Do we update this? - Talyn /////////[CLEARANCE: TOP SECRET] Let’s archive this one. Save the legacy. We can record the truth in clearance for now. We can at least save Logan some heartache. - Joan Name: Professor Polarity Status: INACTIVE /////////Reason: Retired /////////[CLEARANCE: TOP SECRET] Reason: Jailed pending trial Civilian Name: [CLEARANCE: TOP SECRET] Portia Lancaster née Portia Price Affiliation: Hero ///////// H.A.T.C.H. Status: Blackout Only ///////// [CLEARANCE: TOP SECRET] H.A.T.C.H. Status: Inactive Partners/Sidekicks: DI#A-2305 - Forces of Nature Primary Foes: DI#265333 - The Mystic Magician; Powers: Magnetokinesis Costume: Jumpsuit patterned in red-and-blue rectangles; blue cape with Ampère model of a magnetic field; gold belt with a buckle in the shape of a horseshoe magnet Age: 54 Height: 5’6” Pronouns: She/Her H.E.A.R.T.S. Class of ‘82 Note: Mother of DI#337255 - Dr. Vectorious; Co-inventor of the Enhanced Ability Neutralization and Stasis Chamber (EANSC) now in use at City of Harmony Enhanced Ability Containment Center (CHEACC). [Hall of Fame notes archived]. ///////// [CLEARANCE: TOP SECRET] As architect of the covert Project Charcoal, she attempted to discover a ‘cure’ that would strip supers of their abilities. Involved in reviving and creating DI#337501, see IR19-Z-0001

~~~~~~~~

a/n: It’s been over a year since I started this story, which is insane. So much has happened since I woke up with an idea of “what if royality were villains.” Thank you so much for reading and leaving kudos and commenting and particularly for theorizing. I’ve been in love with this idea, and knowing that anyone liked it too gave me incentive to finish it.

One last epilogue coming up. I promised the boys a happier ending.

[softspideys]

Time After Time (Part IV) (Peter Parker x reader)

summary: peter parker is your worst enemy, but he’s also your soulmate. life is funny that way.

warnings: none

words: 1.9k

pairings: peter parker x reader

a/n: just because people keep asking me this and I don’t feel like answering it anymore....this will have MULTIPLE chapters!!! at least like 10!!!! probs more!!!! thank you for listening

The school year seemed to drag on like that: you and Peter actively avoiding each other, the universe and your friends determined to prevent it.

You’d always assumed that once you met your soulmate, you’d be the happiest person in the world. But if anything, your mood had worsened. You knew now that it was one thing to find your soulmate, but getting along with them was a completely different thing entirely.

Your chemistry teacher had long since given up trying to partner you and Peter together during experiments. It happened only once, and had ended with you pushing Peter off of his stool because he insisted on looking over your shoulder as you did the work to make sure you “didn’t mess anything up.” Since then, you stuck to your side of the room and he stuck to his.

In class, your teacher had just finished showing a documentary about drones and their use in chemical warfare. It was extremely boring, but after watching Bill Nye for the past three weeks, your teacher decided it was time to show something a little more serious.

“So,” he said enthusiastically, turning the lights back on. “What’d we think? Did we like it? Dislike it? C’mon people, let me hear your thoughts!”

“It was okay,” someone muttered, and the class murmured in agreement.

Your teacher rolled his eyes. “Really, guys? No one has any other thoughts?” No one answered. “Are we pro-drone? Anti-drone? If you were one or the other, did the doc make you switch your view? Why or why not? I’m desperate here.”

It really was getting to be quite painful, so with a sigh, you raised your hand. “Yes! Y/N!”

“I’m pro-drone,” you said, uncomfortably aware of everyone’s eyes on you.

“Alright,” your teacher said. “Why?”

You shifted in your seat. You’d been hoping he’d just take your answer and run with it himself, but no such luck. “Well . . .” you said. “They’re low cost. They’re way cheaper to purchase and fuel than regular airplanes. And they save lives, you know, so no military personnel have to be put in harm’s way or combat or whatever. The drones just do it for them.”

“I see,” your teacher nodded. “Does anyone else have anything to add? Anyone have a counterpoint?”

For a second no one answered and you thought you were done. But then, from across the room, Peter raised his hand. “I have a counterpoint.”

“Okay,” your teacher said slowly. Everyone knew by now that you and Peter together was a dangerous thing. “Go ahead.”

“Drones aren’t ethical,” Peter said. “It makes combat warfare too easy by diminishing ethical decisions. Some drone pilots or operators have difficulty switching between combat mode at work and civilian mode while not working. It can create PTSD.”

“So does actually being in the middle of combat,” you said, annoyed already. “Some drones don’t even need human pilots.”

“Drones can’t communicate with civilians for more detailed intelligence. Drones can’t capture surrendering military personnel, abandoned hardware, or military bases,” Peter spoke over you.

“They’re more lethal than regular airplanes and way more accurate,” you snapped.

“Accurate? Drone warfare causes collateral damages in civilian lives and property.”

“So you’d rather risk our own soldiers’ lives instead of civilian lives?” you said loudly.

“Civilians view drones as an invasion force. The mere presence of drones has been known to convert civilians into military combats. And when they cause collateral damage, like killing innocent people and damaging their property, the opinions of civilians decrease even more,” Peter said, his voice rising.

“Who cares what they think?”

“So you’d rather innocent people die for no reason?” Peter shot back. “What if the roles were reversed? What if a drone flew into the US, blew up an army base, and killed a bunch of innocent people? But oh no, they got their target, so who cares right?”

“That’s not what I said!”

“It’s what you meant!”

“Drones save lives. Our own lives! That’s what’s most important!”

“Everyone’s lives are worth saving!”

“News flash! You can’t save everyone!”

“You can try!”

“Parker! Y/L/N! That’s enough!” Your teacher practically had to yell to be heard over you.

You fell back into your seat, which you didn’t even realize you were halfway out of. “Both of you, go take a walk,” your teacher ordered. “Opposite directions, please. Come back when you’re ready to have a debate that doesn’t involve screaming at each other.”

Peter was out of his seat and out the door instantly. You reluctantly followed, and as you left you heard someone mutter, “Aren’t they supposed to be soulmates?”

You caught up to Peter and hit him on the shoulder hard. “Ow!” He turned and glared at you. “He said opposite directions.”

“Why do you always have to find some way to argue with me?” you demanded.

“It was a debate, chill out.”

“I’m not even talking about just the debate!” you practically shouted. “You always have to find some way to be better than me or correct me or prove me wrong!”

“Not my fault you’re usually wrong anyway,” he said coldly.

You clenched your fists so hard you could feel your nails digging into your skin. “Just once,” you said through your teeth. “I would like you to just leave me be.”

He shrugged. “Can’t help it if the universe keeps throwing me at you,” he said, though his tone had no humor in it.

“You’re the worst, Parker.”

“Are you sure about that? There’s 7.6 billion people on this planet and I’m the worst?”

“Forget it.” You turned on your heel and stalked down the hallway. As you turned the corner, you could’ve sworn you heard him laugh.

You took a short walk around the building, taking some deep breaths, and when you came back to class you saw Peter several feet away. You rushed to get there first. You slammed the door in his face, smirking at his annoyed expression.

“Welcome back,” your teacher said when Peter finally entered. “Take your seats, please.” You and Peter obeyed. You had a feeling that the real lecture would be coming after class.

Sure enough, when the bell rang, your teacher said, “Peter, Y/N, come see me, please.” 

The two of you reluctantly approached his desk. He looked at you with raised eyebrows. “What happened today wasn’t cool, guys,” he said. “I know not everyone gets along with their soulmates right away, but yelling at each other like that? Unacceptable.”

“Sorry, sir,” you both muttered.

He sighed. “I’m not claiming to know about the deep inner workings of your relationship, but I do wish you’d try to get along. You being paired together . . . it’s a pretty lucky thing.”

You blinked at him, confused. Peter must’ve looked the same way, because your teacher laughed. “If the two of you worked together on whatever you put your minds to . . . you’d be unstoppable. You’d rule the world. Think about it.”

Peter made a beeline to his locker as soon as you were dismissed and so did you, but you couldn’t help it: you did think about it.

* * *

“I don’t really think it’s hatred,” your best friend decided as the two of you walked out of school.

“Oh? Then what is it?”

“Sexual tension.”

It took everything in you not to burst out laughing. “Oh really?”

“Yeah.”

“I see,” you said. “Well, thanks for that input. Now can we talk about literally anything else besides Peter Parker?”

She rolled her eyes. “Fine, fine. What’d you get on that Calc test?”

“95.”

“What? How?”

“It’s called studying,” you said, amused.

“Nah,” she shook her head, “Mrs. Wyatt has it in for me. She’s never liked me.”

“Probably because you don’t study.”

She gave you the finger. “Well, here’s what I think about you and your 95.”

You laughed as you came to her subway stop. “This is me,” she said. “I’ll talk to you later.”

“Alright, bye.” You waved as you walked away. You put your headphones in your ears and turned on some music, letting out a sigh and tilting your head back to feel the sun on your face. You liked school, but nothing compared to the feeling of finally being done for the day.

You walked alone for a little while, enjoying the solitude and thinking about nothing in particular. Suddenly, a voice behind you called, “Hey.”

You ignored it, assuming it wasn’t directed towards you. But then someone came up and yanked one of your headphones out of your ears.

“Hey!” you said, turning in time to see Peter fall into step beside you. “What is the matter with you? What do you want?”

“Where are you going?” he asked.

“To my subway stop. What do you want?” you repeated.

“Fine, let me walk you.”

This time you did laugh out loud. “Are you kidding? I’d literally rather get hit by a bus. I thought I told you to stay away from me.”

“Technically, you said you’d just like me to leave you be,” Peter corrected you.

“Oh my God. Can’t you just leave me alone?” You tried to quicken your pace, but Peter caught up to you easily.

“Believe me, I’d love to,” he said. “But . . . don’t you feel it?”

“Feel what?”

“What it’s like when we’re together, versus when we’re not.” He gave you an annoyed look, like don’t make me say it.

Part of you wanted to say you had no idea what he was talking about. But it would be a lie. You knew exactly what he meant.

When Peter was around you, it was like the weight of the sky was being lifted off of your shoulders. You couldn’t explain it, but being near him felt like being home. You knew you were safe, that this was your person.

Of course, you hated every second of it, but you knew it.

“Yes,” you said finally. “I feel it.”

“Okay,” Peter said, his voice quiet. “So just . . . let me walk you. Okay?”

“Fine,” you said.

The two of you silently began to walk together. You noticed he had one of his headphones in, the other dangling loosely around his neck. “What are you listening to?” you asked, grudgingly attempting to make conversation.

“The Strokes.”

“Hmm.”

“You like them?” he said, side-eyeing you.

You nodded. “Yeah. I do.”

“Hmm,” was all Peter said. You didn’t speak as you walked to your subway stop, or as you made your way downstairs and onto the platform.

Finally, you turned to him. “Are you gonna get on the train with me or something?”

“This is where I get on too,” he said with a roll of his eyes.

“Oh.”

Your train pulled up first, so as the doors opened, you faced him awkwardly. “Well . . . see you.”

He nodded, not meeting your eyes. “Yeah, see you.”

You got on the train and watched him through the window as it pulled away. Now that you weren’t with him, the safe feeling had gone away. But that was all purely chemical, you told yourself. Nothing had changed. You still hated Peter Parker.

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