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sabraeal · 3 years

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Hi,

How are you?

What do you think of Chapters 111.5 of Akagami no Shirayukihime? I think it's after Haruto became regent and went to Wilant but before Izana stepped up to help her.

Contrary to most ice princes Izana behaves with Haki politely but there is a lot of softness too and he was paying attention to her.

I do wonder if it was before Izana realised he liked Haki. Because when he notices that with him she is all politeness and respect unlike Zen with whom she is much more comfortable obviously since they both look close in years and also are younger siblings. There is something in his reaction made me think that he must have felt something. He was all 'give me the flower I'll search its name since you are so curious' and that's when Haki genuinely smiles at him.

Izana totally remembers it despite what he told Haki when she reminiscented it. And he probably wasn't happy when she said that she confused him with Zen but 'no I shall be calm and collected' is his unbreakable facade yet the way Haki smiled at his cool response it looked like she was letting him have his way.

From the chapter it's indicated that there were many banquets Haki atteneded at the palace with the boys. So, maybe with Lyrias' position adults were arranging Hakizana wedding but the Bergatts were interested too and something went wrong. Since Izana behaves same with Zen as he did back when he wasn't helping Haruto but he is much more reserved with Haki than he was in this chapter.

What do you think?

I think, for no other reason than it meets my personal headcanons re: their ages, that this chapter may actually take place pre-Kain's death! It would also explain why Izana is so soft with her-- he's not yet the prince who had to spend years pretending to be a complete airhead to fix his father's kingdom, so he's less jaded, more naturally reserved rather an distrustful. He's the heir apparently, but he is still in training to eventually become king, probably not for decades yet.

I definitely agree-- no matter what Izana says, I'm pretty sure he remembers the whole thing. I've always gotten the feel that he like Haki and has probably always liked her-- especially since we see how very soft he is with her in the flashback. Haki's conversation with Zen back in 102 gave me the feeling that she's been around often, the way nobles often did when they were going to arrange a betrothal. I'm assuming that whatever happened to Kain put it on pause (my best is he was poisoned, hence Zen's preoccupation with it), but something during or prior to the first Lilias arc has Izana set it in motion (I have a feeling it was murmurings about Touka's dealing in the North, but I SUPPOSE WE SHALL SEE)

It would be SUPER INTERESTING if the Bergatts were involved with scuttling the betrothal too. I have always liked the idea of Haki having been betrothed to Touka first, before having that tossed out once Kain had their titles revoked. Touka mentions most of their lands were given to Arleon, Haki's family, which gives me the feeling they had some sort of hand in their downfall...or that Kain merely was looking for a reason to beef up Haki's dowry to make her a better match for Izana. All of which is SUPER interesting, considering how Makiri doesn't seem to be a big fan of either Izana or Zen, but lbr, that might just be one of those personal childhood grudges and be separate from his political feelings.

#hakizana #akagami no shirayukihime #ANS meta #i think in the chapter where Shirayuki finds out about Zen poisoning himself #they mention he was like 10 or 11 the first time???#i might be remembering wrong #so I assume Kain probably died somewhere around then #and i'd put izana around like 15/16 in that chapter and Zen around 9/10 #so i have a feeling this was shortly before Kain died #before Izana suddenly had to do a whole lot of political maneuvering to stay alive #i love this chapter for so many reasons #one we get to see how izana was always sort of shy and reserved #and overthinker from a young age but also with the earnestness Zen shows #and also that it makes Haki's comments about hsi hair during the coronation even cuter #like mmm i liked you with short hair when you were shy and told me you'd look up a flower's name #like i first thought that was to get under his skin by teasing him about zen #but no the whole reason she mixes them up is because zen is a dead ringer for Izana at 15

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traincat · 3 years

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Disregard my last ask because the latest issue raised a troubling question that I, as a black man, feel the need to clarify with you, a woman. That whole whole Ned Leeds/Betty Brant business is sexual assault via deception right? Like you know more about Clones and Spider-Man 616 than I but I feel like that’s besides the point because it happened to Betty. She is carrying the child of whom she thought was her dead ex-husband. And Ned clone has to know he is a clone. He has to know. Unlike Ben and Kaine, he has the awareness and information of the Jackal and the awareness of his progenitor’s death.

Or am I reaching too far and reading too far into things?

I'm glad you came back and asked this specific question because it's definitely something I have a lot of thoughts on, and I’m glad you asked my thoughts on it as a woman because I think this is one of those comic book storylines that’s hard for me to divorce that fact from -- the fact that I’m a woman definitely plays into how I view this storyline specifically and how it effects me, in ways I don’t think were necessarily intended by some of the writers involved in its ongoing arc who were not looking at things from the same perspective I’m coming at them from. I definitely don't think you're reaching or reading too far into things -- I think that is what's being presented on the page, albeit likely without authorial intent. Just as like a general disclaimer, I'm not closely following Spencer's run for the sheer reason that I'm not enjoying it very much, although I'm aware of the general directions it's taking through friends and social media. But I actually think this Betty/Ned issue goes back pretty far.

First things first, I think Clone Conspiracy really wreaked havoc on how Spider-Man as a series has always handled clones. Pre-Clone Conspiracy, there was a very clear clone narrative going on: clones are their own person, they are not direct copies or replacements of the original. You see this with Ben Reilly and you see it with the Gwen Stacy clones. Clones are treated as their own individuals, even if they have to struggle to get to that point -- there's even an issue of Spider-Man Unlimited where Ben and Betty go on a date. Betty doesn't know that Ben is Peter's clone -- he's introduced as his cousin -- and they both reflect on how you can't go back to the way things were. So even though Ben has all of Peter's memories regarding his initial romance with Betty, the narrative makes it clear that Ben and Betty cannot recapture that connection or that exact relationship.

Here's where Clone Conspiracy changed everything, in my opinion for the worse: Clone Conspiracy's clone narrative is that these clones are, essentially, the original person. I believe the Marvel wiki still actually lists the end of Clone Conspiracy as 616 Gwen Stacy's issue of death instead of Amazing Spider-Man #121, because Clone Conspiracy treated that Gwen not simply as a clone with all of the same memories, but as essentially Gwen resurrected through a cloning process. The Billy Connors who was cloned is treated as the same Billy Connors who was killed by his father in Shed (Amazing Spider-Man #630-633). And the clone Ned is treated as the same as 616 Ned. This is a mess, to put it simply, because it goes against all the previous Spider-Man cloning narratives and, honestly, most popular sci-fi clone narratives, and it's seriously undermining decades of good Spider-Man storytelling in ways that Slott didn't address and that Spencer seems unwilling to. It probably wouldn't have been a very big deal -- a frustrating one, but not a big one -- if all of the clones had perished at the end of Clone Conspiracy, but they didn't. Billy Connors escaped, and it's immensely frustrating to me to see Peter treating the Connors family reunion as something he can tolerate when Curt Connors ate his kid, and the Ned clone slithered away in the gutters to, I assume, spite me personally.

Which brings us to the current Betty Brant storyline in Amazing Spider-Man, where Betty has showed up heavily pregnant and informed Peter that the child is Ned's.

Yeah, I would say this is in fact the worst possible part. (ASM (2018) #67) Just speaking for myself, I'm generally not anti-pregnancy or baby storylines in comics, but this one is making me very uncomfortable for reasons beside Spencer being apparently unable to find any way to fit Betty into his stories without her showing pregnant.

So I'm actually going to take this back way, way to when Betty and Ned first got married, with some explanation of who Ned Leeds is for the uninformed, because, especially with the MCU's Ned Leeds in the mix, he's not exactly the world's most well known Spider-Man character. (I’m sure @ubernegro, who is much more well read on Miles Morales’ canon than I am, has thoughts on how the MCU’s Ned borrowed heavily off the character of Ganke Lee with a 616 Peter Parker character’s name pasted over him.) Ned was initially introduced as Peter's competition for Betty's affections -- Ned was older than both Peter and Betty, a working reporter, and presented as the more "stable" option compared to Peter, who of course Betty vastly preferred before circumstances tore them apart. Ned and Betty married in Amazing Spider-Man #156 and jetsetted off to Europe for Ned's job. This is where the cracks in the marriage began. Betty later reveals that she felt abandoned by Ned in Europe, to the point where she was able to come back to New York without his immediate notice -- as a woman, it's very easy to read their relationship at this point as being one filled with, if not abuse, then emotional neglect. Betty and Peter have a quick extramarital affair at this point -- Peter has just broken up with Mary Jane and Betty claims she and Ned are separating -- that persists until Ned returns and punches Peter over it.

(ASM #193)

(ASM #229) Betty and Ned reconcile off panel shortly thereafter, but that's pretty far from the end of the story. It's implied that the problems Betty and Ned previously had start to develop again, namely that Betty feels abandoned by Ned, that he is inattentive and, again, as a woman, it's hard not to read it as emotional neglect, if not abuse -- yet. Betty does start another affair at this point, this time with Flash Thompson, and Ned starts acting strangely. It would later be retconned that he was suffering the effects of hypnotism by the Hobgoblin, but like I said, that's a retcon, and what was happening at the time was that Ned was acting erratically in part because he was the villainous Hobgoblin. Ned becomes controlling, threatening, and verbally and physically abusive towards Betty.

(ASM #284)

(ASM #283) "I suppose you think it's all right for a wife to cheat on her husband!" "No -- but I won't let you hurt her, either." Leaving aside that Peter also had an affair with Betty, something he's conveniently forgetting in the above panels, I've always really liked this exchange, because the narrative makes it clear through Peter's response to Ned that, whatever the audience may think of Betty for cheating on Ned, it is reprehensible for Ned to publicly humiliate her and/or physically abuse her as a response.

Then Ned Leeds dies in Spider-Man vs Wolverine and he's revealed as the Hobgoblin posthumously shortly thereafter and that remains canon for years and years until it's later retconned out, as comics are wont to do. But that's not really that important for this conversation -- my point being, at one point in Spider-Man canon, it's made fairly clear to the reader that Ned is an abusive husband. He emotionally neglected and abused Betty several times over and physically hurt her at least once on panel, with the clear intent that the reader should realize that he is physically hurting her. So for me as a reader and as a woman, this has always been a really uncomfortable relationship. I have a problem with later Spider-Man comics claiming that it's "not Ned's fault" that he abused Betty because of the retcon that he was hypnotized, and I have a problem with the MCU making Betty and Ned into a cute summer fling in Spider-Man: Far From Home, because I feel like Ned's clear abuse of Betty either gets excused or entirely glossed over. And I don’t think the initial abuse storyline is bad -- I think there’s some amount of value in portraying Betty as a woman who marries too young, who experiences a terrible marriage, and who then spends years recovering from that marriage, which was the case up until they retconned Ned’s abuse of her as a side effect of him being controlled by the real Hobgoblin. What I’m specifically uncomfortable with is the post-retcon attitude that since Ned didn’t really mean to abuse Betty, it’s perfectly fine to portray the relationship in a positive light when even before Ned’s abuse became physical that wasn’t the case. I think that’s ultimately really irresponsible storytelling. As a reader, I’m not against soap opera style storylines -- someone getting impregnated by a cone of their ex-husband seems pretty par for the course. But there’s so much additional context here that I still haven’t entirely processed how I feel about this Betty storyline, except that what I feel isn’t positive.

So yes, I would agree with you when I say I think there’s quite a lot of deception involved in Betty’s pregnancy storyline -- the Ned clone didn’t tell her he was a clone, even though he had full knowledge of that fact, just as he had full knowledge of how badly the original Ned treated Betty over the course of their relationship -- that renders their sexual encounter and Betty’s pregnancy uncomfortable for me as a reader, to put it mildly. I don’t think it’s out of character for the Ned clone, given that he acts much like the original Ned: he’s selfish and controlling, withholding information from Betty to suit his own needs. The tragedy of Ned and Betty isn’t that Ned died, as more recent Spider-Man stories like to portray it -- including this one, where Betty doesn’t have the knowledge that a) the Ned she reunited with was a clone and not the original and b) that that clone later died. (ASM #816.) The tragedy is that writers continue to force Betty Brant into Ned Leeds storylines instead of letting her as a character grow past him, and that the only way Spencer thought to include her, one of the longest running Spider-Man characters, back in the story was to have her appear starry-eyed over carrying the child of (the clone of) her abusive ex-husband, and the tragedy is that nobody writing more recent Betty and Ned interactions seems to realize that Ned was a villain not because he was briefly the Hobgoblin but because of how he treated Betty.

#betty brant #ned leeds #marvel comics #long post/#wednesday spoilers #traincat talks comics #*replies

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notspazztrapavacado · 3 years

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'Flu-shot Fiasco'

Dr. Clef x they/them! scp! reader

(This AU belongs to supercasey, I'm hoping I'm understanding it right)

It had been nearly twenty-two years they'd been stuck in this place, saved from the streets as a young teen the first time they had died. Nothing was really special about them save for the fact they regenerated at a supernatural rate and was not stopped from it by death, but it was worth noting that every time they'd been put with a family, the general lack of self preservation made them too weak stomache to keep them and gave them back.

It's not all bad, though, this place was kind to them. It was like an animal rescue center and a hospital and an orphanage had some kind of weird hybrid child center. Simply put: It was home.

Right now, however, they were clinging to the ceiling fan in their basic human enclosure for dear life, dread pooling in the pit of their stomach as the small team of researchers beneath them looked on.

"(Y/N) it's time for your flu shot." Kondraki was not having this at all, not today.

"No! Do what you with me, put me through a meat grinder, dip me in acid, but do not come anywhere NEAR me with a needle!" They shouted down at them and he sighed, facepalming as he heard the answer he'd gotten every year.

"I expected better of you." Gears sighed and Iceberg crossed his arms.

"You're 34, can't you act like it once?" Iceberg huffed his point in this.

"Technically, I'm 25." They noted the age they stopped at, regeneration covering the loss of cells and giving them the look of a much younger individual.

"Still an adult. Now get down." Iceberg argued. (Y/n) only scrunched up their nose at him and stuck their tongue out.

"Bright. You're up." Kondraki motioned to Dr. Bright, who looked very pleased he got the chance to do what he wanted here.

"Haha, watch this." He strode over to the doorway and flipped one of the two switches next to it, powering the fan on with success.

(Y/n) remained attached to it, spinning at an increasingly rapid pace until the motion leveled out. They looked on with a mix of amusement and utter disappointment.

"Have you practiced this??" Gears squinted, baffled, but not surprised.

"Only every day of my life!" they cackle maniacally. This was the year they finally won. No shots for (Y/n)!!

"I didn't want to have to do this." Kondraki picked up his walkie-talkie, and Bright flipped the switch for the fan, watching it come to a stop with a certain amount of respect for the art of chaos.

"You won't be reasoned with, you won't be bested, we must resort to cheating." Dr. Bright gave his speech, lips pressed into a firm line in standing his ground.

"You're not my dad!" They shouted at him.

"I'm old enough to be!" he shouted back.

"Clef, (Y/n) is stuck to the ceiling this year." Kondraki spoke into the small, boxy device. It gave a distorted, sharp sound.

"Got tired of the kitchen table gambit?" Clef's voice came through almost clearly.

"We took the handcuffs away last week to prepare for that. I don't think we should have." He was more than tired.

"I'm already on my way." Clef replied.

"He can't do shit! Watch this!" (Y/n) had managed to get their leg securely over one of the blades, swinging their torso up and successfully laying over two of the five.

"You're lucky we make those out of steel." Iceberg was further unimpressed.

"You're lucky I'm not as bad as Kain with his shots." They argued back.

"We can sedate Kain, you're just awful!" Iceberg exclaimed loudly.

"Have no fear, Clef is here!" The ukulele man strummed a couple notes before tossing the instrument onto their couch and cracking his knuckles.

"Good. I'm going to go get coffee. When you get them down, the shot is on their kitchen counter." Kondraki left with Bright tagging along to bother him.

"I will be back shortly to help with the shot. I promised to walk Iceberg home." Gears had his arm looped with Iceberg's, who looked happy with the arrangement.

"Just you'n me, sweetheart." he looked up at his partner in crime, feeling cocky.

"I'm gonna raid your fridge." He immediately turned and went right into the kitchen, earning a great bit of objection.

"What? No! Get outta there!" they shouted.

"Come stop me." He stuck his tongue out at them, matching their childish game.

"No way!" They stayed stubborn.

"Then the price of redemption for your crimes is your fruit snacks." He stated.

"Haha! Ate them this morning." (Y/n) felt triumphant and Clef pouted.

"Damn. I didn't think you're impulse control had gotten that out of whack." he said.

"You'd be surprised how bad my impulse control can be." They boasted.

"You leave me no choice." He grabbed a kitchen chair and walked into the living area with it, earning a smug grin.

"What're you gonna do with that, shorty? Reach the top shelf?" They mocked.

"Imma fucking get you 's what imma do." He grumbled, irritated at the nickname, and clambered on top of the wooden chair.

"You'll never reach me." they mused.

"Watch this." He eyed the fan like a cat, his parkor legacy would begin here, he's the greatest jumper to walk the face of the earth, he's-

His internal monologue of a pep talk was cut short when he wobbled.

"Yep. Not doing that." he climbed off, instead grabbing the multi step stool they had in the closet beside the door.

"I hate this thing." He set it out with more effort than one should ever have to use, the stool old and rusted at the ends.

Less than gracefully, he started to ascend, making it most of the way up.

"I feel so bad for you right now. I jumped up here." They chuckled spitefully.

"Not everyone was born with fabulous legs and the ability to gain superpowers once a year at flu season." he grabbed the fan, finally, and they applauded him.

"Great. You're mostly here." they snickered mischievously as he attempted a pull up.

He failed that pull up terribly.

Nearly sent plummeting, he knocked over the stool and yelped when he was left to dangle from the metal blade.

"I didn't wanna go out like this!" he yelled.

"I don't want the shot." They retorted.

"You win! You win! Help me, please!" He conceded defeat and, in seconds, he was grabbed by his shirt and hoisted up and over the side of the fan to lay over it and catch his breath.

"(Y/n), you fool." He grinned a sharp toothed, wicked grin.

"Oh no…" They shrunk back.

"You've trapped yourself!" he exclaimed, drawing the syringe from his pocket.

(Y/n) screeched with horror, scrambling back and falling off the fan thoughtlessly.

"No you DON'T!!!" He threw himself down to them, landing with a loud Thump! on his knees and immediately screaming.

"Fuck, shit, goddamn, fuckfuckfuckfuck-" his kneecaps were taking their time recovering, his regeneration a much more painful process than theirs.

"You've betrayed me! You deserve your broken knees!" they tried to dislodge themself from his hold.

"I will put this through your eye!" He held the syringe menacingly and they froze.

"..." He was regretting that.

"You know I'm a liar, why do you even humor the thought I'd do that?" He stuck them in the arm and they whimpered.

"See, not so bad?" he finally removed his thighs from either side of their torso, standing. They only remained rigid.

"It was a joke." he nudged them with his shoe and sighed.

"It's over now, you want ice cream?" he offered. "Hello?" he waved a hand in front of them, and finally got a response.

"Aghuuubfvbbfy!!" their whole body convulsed and shuddered a moment before they sat up, looking at him with more pain than he'd ever seen on them.

"I am never going to let you near me with a syringe again." They stated, horrified.

"I still have it. It'd be cruel of me to stick you for fun." he rolled it in his palm.

"But I am rather cruel." He made a sharp noise and elicited another screech from them as they backed into the wall.

"Another joke, jesus christ, calm down." he tossed the used plastic syringe behind him, just letting it land wherever.

"You calm down, I'm gonna be scared from this!" They exclaimed.

"That's what you get for acting like a child." He crossed his arms and nodded.

"If childishness attracts karma, you're really in for it." They argued right back.

#scp #scp fanfiction #scp foundation #dr clef #reader insert #fanfiction #fanfic #cute #funny #needle tw #i loved this idea too much not to write this #im trash #fandom

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analysis-no-one-asked-for · 3 years

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A Deep Dive Into the Powers that Be (Part 1)

Measly and Thrush, the most lovable giant children in the Polyhedron, and also collectively god in the world of Pathologic. They are dubbed “The Powers That Be”, and you encounter them regularly throughout the game in the Bachelor’s route through their nightly correspondence. We also see them spying through “Watchers” in one of his quests. Other than that, they receive some sparse lip service in dialogue in the “normal” Bachelor and Haruspex runs. The Inquisitor and The Commander both act on behalf of the powers that be. But otherwise we don’t get too much information on who exactly these Powers are and how they actually Be.

Spoilers spoilers spoilers spoilers omg spoilers for the ending of Pathologic Classic.

However, if either the Bachelor of the Haruspex takes pity on another healer and cures their bound of the Plague, they will receive a letter from The Powers that accuse them both of “doing whatever [they] please” and “spoiling the game” and ask them to descend the Polyhedron for a “little chat”

We meet the Powers, after being teleported from the base of the Polyhedron, in a gated garden, where two, relatively giant, children are, playing with a sand box, where they have created a sand town, mini glass Polyhedron and all. The Bachelor and Haruspex are, in a word, shook. As one is when they discover they were a doll in a sandbox this whole time. The game is grueling, and the player has been suffering and barely surviving these twelve days. So both the player and the character are pissed. Pissed that it was all in vain. Pissed that this suffering was at the hands of bored children. And Pathologic becomes an existential crisis sim for the last hour or so of gameplay.

There are a couple of ways to interpret this ending. Of course Ice-Pick lodge couldn’t give us a straight-forward “this was all a game” mindscrew.

Anyway, first we are going to evaluate what we know about the Powers That Be just through the first two routes, the Bachelor’s and the Haruspex’s.

The Bachelor, Daniil Dankovsky

“Dankovsky's lifework, his theory challenging the existing notions of human mortality, is being harshly persecuted by the Powers that Be.”

So Danovsky feels personally attacked by the Powers that Be, and this is not a new feeling (though it may be one of his only feelings) for him. Apparently they don’t like him or his “lifework” and his research lab Thanatica is under threat of shut-down, and he has no one to blame besides god, apparently. I guess he thought finding the secret to immortality would be… easy? In fact, he only comes to the soon-to-be-plague-infested town to save his lab and research in studying the apparently immortal Simon Kain on the recommendation of his colleague Isador Burakh. Come to find out Simon is actually mortal, and we know because he died the night before Dankovsky strolled into town. His “gentle associate” and “selfless advisor” Burakh is also dead.

A letter from a fellow researcher at Thanatica reaches out to Dankovsky that night, or, at least it is signed by a Professor Telman, but the letter is titled as coming from the very own Powers that Be, which reads, in part:

“By what seems to be a very lucky coincidence, you have found yourself in a town that is wrought by some very worrying occurrences...In consideration of your outstanding analytical capability, we delegate the investigation to you. If there is an epidemic, it must be halted by any means necessary…. In order to implement your strategy, an Inquisitor endowed with unrestricted authority will shortly arrive to join you. In the event that you are unable to curb the outbreak before their arrival, all power over the situation will be reassigned to them….It has come to our attention that you have recently requested permission to continue with your own research. The decision of whether or not such permission will be granted depends on the results of this assignment. Your success, therefore, has a bearing on your scientific reputation and your further academic career.”

So, the Bachelor is vaguely given authority over the situation, by either a fellow scientist or the gods (haven’t we all been there?), and if he fails to “curb the outbreak” he can kiss his work and career goodbye.

And honestly, Daniil is justified in feeling especially singled out by the Powers that Be. He receives letters from them nightly, which only happens in his campaign. No other playable character is reminded how much they suck every night from ominous gods. Kind of off topic, but this aspect of his route gives so much context to how much of an arrogant dick asshole he is. His ego is basically continuously reinforced knowing that the second most powerful beings (second to the developers, who you also can meet in game) are heavily invested in what he’s up to. And the responsibility of repressing an epidemic is all on him. If he can’t do this, which he couldn't possibly because it's currently incurable, fatal, highly-communicable, and ravaging a town where no one likes nor trusts him, other than the evil mcevil family, drunk and depressed college buddies, and that one creepy theatre dude. And none of those airheads are helpful at all because no one particularly likes them either. I’d strongly consider blowing up a town after that (especially after moving back to my hometown during the pandemic), too, whether it’s for the greater good or not (which Daniil argues it is).

So, the Powers that Be send him letters under a couple of pseudonyms: already mentioned Professor Telman, and the Manipulatory Laboratory (pictured above) and, finally, if the conditions are right, The People Who Own You.

Now, aside from their ominous and threatening first impression, at first the Powers that Be are cautiously optimistic, if not enthusiastic about the Bachelor’s efforts in fighting the plague. They even offer clues for Daniil/the player at times. Even though the clues are not all that helpful. Still, more information is always good information, said the man not familiar with Pathologic, where more information is often just an opportunity to look away from the screen, stare at a wall, and try to keep yourself from going into shock (I highly recommend this game by the way).

#pathologic

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thesouthernpansy · 3 years

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your hand, my hand (to hold it)

artemy burakh/daniil dankovsky

2,556 words

(here on ao3)

Dankovsky stands at the top of the staircase in his shirtsleeves. He's changed, again, from the last time you saw him, his eyes darker and his jaw weaker, but he takes your hands in his cool, gloved palms and tuts in that same distant, put-upon way he has.

“When was the last time you cleaned your fingernails?”

Even in pitch darkness, with your eyes closed, you could find your way back to him by his scolding.

“I think I have a few crumbs under there, I was saving them for later.”

Dankovsky tsks, not without humor. “I expect you'll try to convince me it's economical. Are you hungry? I have some bread and—well, I've been told it's trout, but who can tell these days. Some kind of smoked fish. It's yours if you'll wash up. Quid pro quo.”

Are you hungry? You wonder at his formality; you've been hungry for days.

His back is to you while he digs through his doctor's bag, the blades of his shoulders, the knife of his spine. Your fingers itch with the urge to touch, to run the pad of your thumb against his angles like it could draw blood.

“The townspeople are finally rubbing off on you, huh?”

Distracted thought creases a line between Dankovsky's brows. “Ah, the local bartering custom. You'll have to more fully explain the precise mechanics of the process to me at some point.”

It's heartening and unexpected progress, from him, the admission—the interest—though you refrain from saying as much.

True to his word, he sets out a generous heel of bread and paper-wrapped package bleeding fish-smelling oil. Leans his hip against the edge of the desk, crossing his arms across his narrow chest. The fine visible bones of his wrist, the pale exposed forearm, you could close your whole fist around them with space to spare.

“Where did all this come from, anyway? The Kains?”

Dankovsky stills, a sudden subtle tenseness, his gloves drawn tight across the knuckles.

“The doctor's fund,” he says shortly.

“Ah.” Guilt seeps through to tangle with the warmer sensation rising in your chest.

Dankovsky gestures dismissively, turning away. “Don't give me that martyred expression. You come to the hospital or you don't, all that's important is that progress is being made on the vaccine.”

“The panacea,” you correct him.

“Suum cuique. Do we have a deal or don't we?”

“The healer's hands are always bloodiest,” you say, half teasing.

Dankovsky satisfies it with a long-suffering sigh. “Don't you mean muddiest? By the looks of it you've been up to your elbows looking for your steppe herbs all morning.”

Always your herbs, an arrogant dismissal as if he doesn't by now have ample first-hand experience with the effectiveness of your painkillers, at least. It frustrates him doubly, you've gathered in time, that you insist on wasting your time with flowers rather than focus on the infinitely more practical and productive collection of infected human samples that Dankovsky continues to find himself unanimously denied.

Silence settles between you with gauzy tangibility, like the pest-thick air of the infected Bridge Square, grey-green and swimming-still.

An idea comes to you. Against the growing distance you lift your grime-streaked hands, palms open, up.

“With this I give you company. The road you walk is dangerous, but you don't walk it alone. I go with you, my help and my guidance.”

“Your guidance,” says Dankovsky, mostly to himself.

“What do you give me, oynon?”

Movement at the corner of his mouth. “Food. I had thought I made that clear.”

“A thing can be more than it is, more than an object to take up space in your hand. To give and take is to connect, a feeling or intention, or...” you falter, trying to remember. “Warmth. Kindness.”

Dankovsky bites out a laugh at that, harsh and short. “Kindness? In this town?”

“Comfort,” you persist. “Joy.”

“Nothing anyone has given me in this town has brought me joy.” He stops to look at you, then, though, to truly look. “I ought to give you rest, if I thought that you would take it.”

“You'd have to have it, first, to give it away.” Both of you well aware that this is the closest to rest you're likely to get today, and even that more than either of you can really afford.

Dankovsky turns towards the window, his jawline a taut cord of tension. His profile backlit with sickly light, casting him angular, severe, the unexpected stranger in the near-dark of Rubin's rooms. Near the hollow of his throat, the shadow of dark unshaven stubble, like a bruise.

“For all that it matters. What's the actual purpose of this asinine exercise?”

“I told you—” You reach out; his hair curls damply by his ear, the pulse quickening beneath your fingertips. “It's about connection.”

Prickling, “Warmth, yes, I remember. Here—”

He takes your wrist. Then, from the little shaving kit on the windowsill, a thin wedge of soap, soft from use. Presses it into your hand.

“Take...care.”

You have held human hearts in your hands, before—hot, and with the echo of beating still in them. Maybe this is nothing like that, but it echoes all the same.

“Thank you, oynon.”

“You're welcome...emshen.” At your smirk, “What? Didn't I pronounce it correctly?”

You shake your head, laughter on your tongue. “It's the vowels. They're tricky, if you didn't grow up with the language.”

“Don't you patronize me.” He swats you away and goes, muttering the word under his breath, to collect a washbasin and pitcher from beneath the bed. They're a matched set, not poor quality but plainly in disrepair, the enamel pattern chipped and cloudy. Dankovsky sloshes the basin half-full, notices your watching.

“Concerns, Burakh?”

“No, it looks clean.”

“Of course it's clean. I saw to its collection personally. Eva has been surprisingly diligent about boiling all the water she can gets her hands on, as well, for whatever good it does.”

“Cholera dies in boiled water,” you say absently. For a brief, suspended moment in Dankovsky's place you see the frightened woman in the Flank, her flat terrified eyes, her trembling fists.

Dankovsky frowns in dim recognition. “Someone else told me that recently. I can't recall who it was.”

“Maybe it was a dream.” Quick, careful efficiency as you strip away enough of your soiled smock to bare your arms.

“I have been having the strangest dreams,” he admits, voice soft. “Ever since I arrived here. I dream about walking, mostly, out across the steppe. I'm up to my knees in water and trying to reach something on the very edge of the horizon, or perhaps it's the horizon itself? And the sky is always red, dark red like blood, and I can feel in my bones that something is missing, as though the moon might not be there if I could think to look for it.”

Frown deepening, he shakes his head as if to clear the image. “In any case, perhaps it was a dream, then. I've been experiencing a great deal of déjàvu lately.”

The basin water murkies like a pre-storm dawn, greying lather sloughed away with the days' mud and blood and sweat. Like peeling back dead skin to see something fresh and pink underneath, new nerve endings, raw and receptive. It feels wrong, somehow. Dark water, clean hands.

“How do you imagine the Town will think of you when this is all over, after you're gone?”

“I don't,” says Dankovsky, clipped. “There are far more consequential matters that call for my attention. Who has time to worry about the opinions of small minds, with so much to do?”

Sanctimonious bastard.

“I do.” Gripping the edges of the washbasin like you could snap it in two, satisfying in the imagined sound of shattering, Dankovsky's startled expression, a rush of movement across the Stillwater's floorboards.

“Well, it's different for you, obviously. Being a local.”

You step away, scrubbing wet hands across your face. “I'm glad at least someone thinks that of me.”

Anger ebbs away in the ensuing silence. Then, the staccato click of Dankovsky's polished shoes accompanied by the faint sough of cloth. A towel, threadbare and yellowed, held like a surrender. You acquiesce, and Dankovsky pointedly avoids your gaze as he dries your hands with studious care.

“If you're...unsatisfied, here, you could always come to the Capital with me, when I return. Thanatica, or whatever's left of it, could benefit from your...unique perspective.”

His right hand in your left, points of articulation lined up—palm, wrist, knuckle, rib—and a warm thrum under your skin, heady and thick, like twyre bloom.

“That's a generous offer, oynon. You're right, though, I am a local. My place is here.”

“Yes,” he says. “well. I won't try to change your mind, if you're—”

“You could stay.”

Sudden, startled offense and dazed uncomprehending, Dankovsky's expression caught halfway between a sneer and something terrified. Defensive, cornered.

“I—here? No, what would I even—? No, no, I can't.”

“If you say so. I'll probably try to change your mind. Not right now. Later, when it matters.”

Dankovsky's eyes are sharp when they meet yours, lit with keen, unmasked curiosity. The full weight of his attention pierces like a pin punched through a beetle's jeweled carapace for display. A bright spot of pain in your chest, velvet at your back.

“You won't,” he says, weight in his words so you could almost see them falling out, bitten clean.

Fondness blooms in you at the thawing unease with which he holds himself, like a man who has forgotten how to be warm coming in from the cold. Reticent in a reluctant, guarded way you recognize, of all people, from Murky.

“I'll try anyway.”

A thin, unsteady laugh, reedy and nasal, and thenhe softens, all at once, deflating slightly, like a weight borne across his shoulders has been lifted free from him.

“Just so. Dum spiro, spero.”

“I don't know what that means.”

“I think you know,” he says carefully, “enough.”

Clearly, like a memory in your mind's eyes you see yourself kissing him, again and again, harsh and then tender, then tenderer still—the copper of blood on your teeth, the hazy, cooling steppe at dusk, the terrible sweet fever smell you know so well—a rush, like wind, like falling from a height, and here, constant, the place where the parallel nets of your lives snag and tangle.

Which is to say: what follows flows with the ease of the inevitable.

Dankovsky looks up, you look down.

The two of you meet in the middle.

The kiss starts slow, chaste and unsure and so nice; a pleased, helpless little sound escapes from you before you can think to stop it, and you feel Dankovsky's lips part slightly to form some wry response. You take it as an invitation, licking into the heat of his mouth, fingers threaded in the short hair at the nape of his neck. He shudders against you and moans, hitched breath and a deep, dreamy sigh that resonates like struck steel, pools low in your gut, molten and dark. Grasping, his hands find your waist, slide upwards to reel you close and keep you there.

Against your palm, the rabbit-pace of his pulse. Yours, sheltered against it. Dankovsky kisses you in the dim, stale Stillwater, and you think, the left and right hand. You think, yes.

Understanding: you are separate things like two hairs on a bull's back are separate, his heartbeat ending where yours begins without distinction. In the shared breaths caught between you, it's easy to believe that you could choose this—one vast, drumming heartbeat, one fast, endless line, strung through you soft and whole, tying indelibly together what you've feared would be inevitably torn apart. That after loss, losing, knowing what might still be lost, you could carve a harbor in the quiet and keep it shielded because you wanted it enough.

Behind you, the clock chimes the new hour. The adrenaline pumping in your blood start to sour.

“Fuck,” says Dankovsky, teeth scraping your lip.

You swallow thickly. “Is it two already?”

“Three, I think.” Focused on a point past your shoulder, his hands still under your shirt and his eyes already terribly far away.

“Shudkher.”

“You have somewhere else need to be.”

“I—yes.”

He nods, stepping away. His warmth goes with him. Clearing his throat, righting his clothes, you watch his expression shutter closed and feel like a limb that has been too long in a cast, pallid and shriveled and weak. Regret twists its clammy thorns around your heart, but there's nothing you can apologize for, nothing that it would fix.

“I'm sorry,” you say anyway.

Dankovsky shakes his head. “What for? Unless you're responsible for this whole wretched plague I can't accept that from you. And if you are responsible I wouldn't accept it it anyway, my reaction would be the furthest thing from forgiveness. Besides, it isn't as though I don't have work of my own to do.”

He recovers your discarded smock from the floor, gives it a vigorous shake. You take it from him, and he promptly busies himself elsewhere while you redress, the conspicuous return to silence aching in your joints like the promise of rain.

Dankovsky breaks it first. “Here, can you carry this?”

A hastily-wrapped parcel of waxed canvas, secured with a pair of safety pins that recently-acquired instinct hones in on immediately—that girl by the Trammel had been looking for pins, and she'd had a fingernail coin she was willing to trade—so that full focus returns with the thing in your hands and a stiff, dour set to Dankovsky's shoulders, the pull of his mouth. Unreachable, resigned.

“What is it?”

“My side of our bargain.” Hesitant, almost amused. “You didn't think I'd try to rescind our deal just because you can't stay for tea. Tell me you'll remember to eat it before it spoils.”

“I'll do my best.” Shifting aside bundles of twyre to tuck the food into your bag, as if you won't be tearing it open again as soon as you're outside.

“See that you do. I...be careful out there, Burakh.”

“You too, oynon.”

A fluid moment, blood pulled through the chambers of a heart, singing and open like the bare vein of Mother Boddho at the base of a tree. Pregnant with the promise of movement, the exposed unspoken, a restlessness that settles, itching, into the red of your marrow.

You wonder if Dankovsky would let you kiss him goodbye.

“Did you need something else, or are you just going to stand there hulking behind me while I work?”

The skin of tension splits, relief trickling out in a thin line.

“I'm going, I'm going, no need to force me out.”

“As if I could.” The formality of irritation over unmistakable affection.

You reach out and take his hand. Dankovsky watches warily, frowning as you peel back the edge of the clean black glove, but makes no move to stop you. The bare cradle of his palm still smells faintly of leather when you curve towards it, pressing your lips against the skin.

Dankovsky's eyes don't leave you even after you release him, fingers curling closed.

“Warmth,” he says softly, “yes, I see.”

#pathologic #pathologic 2 #artemy burakh #daniil dankovsky #the bachelor #the haruspex #my fic

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onedivinemisfit · 4 years

Photo

In which I dreamt up a whole new AnS love triangle for myself for no apparent reason

But it is fast becoming very addictive - and for all his lack of canon design, I’m also quite pleased with my take on Kain Wisteria >:3

AnS (c) Akizuki Sorata Art: Me

It all started with a dream I had one morning, of Marquis Haruka saying to to the queen after she abdicates and Izana takes the throne that he was “always loyal to the royal family first and the country, and that the one time he had betrayed his principles, it had been for her sake.”

I woke shortly after but the sentence lingered in my mind and it just birthed this entire au scenario. It’s still in bits and pieces but I’m gonna try and glue it together bc it was quite intriguing~

Here, Haruka is still only a viscount, but as the second cousin to the crown prince of Clarines - and being from a favoured branch family (Haruka’s mother was a Wisteria and cousin to the king) and as he was born the same year as prince Kain, he was brought up as his close companion, spending the majority of his time in Wistal palace. (Yes the stick in his arse is ever-present) Haruka’s looks are directly based on Sorata’s sketch of him at 24, although I mess up his hair a wee bit more to add some unruffled youth to the fella. At the time, he nursed a crush born of admiration and respect for the future queen.

Kain Wisteria, despite looking like the poster boy for crown prince, was actually the second-born son - his elder brother Akito, four years his senior, was first in line to inherit. Kain only became crown prince after Akito died of a prolonged, mysterious wasting disease. He took to his new duties like he had been born for kinghood. Visually, I’d say his hair colour is like Zen’s, as fair as it can be, accompanied by pale, icy blue eyes. While beautiful, his enigmatic not-quite-a-smile-smile feels... unsettling.

Haruto, for all intents and purposes a lady of high rank, was in my dream a legalized bastard, whom her father had brought into his household due to his own lack of legal heirs. Haruto was 12 at the time when she was taken out of the boarding school that had housed her until then. She adapted well, being quick-witted and eloquent, and enjoyed her new noble family (her step-mother actually adored her) After debuting, she spent many summers at the castle, while her parents and the royals discussed a possible engagement between Haruto and the then-crown prince, Akito. But he died before the engagement terms were completed, and so Haruto was engaged to prince Kain instead. Closer in age and getting on well together, she was quite pleased with the outcome. Her hair is ashen grey-blonde, accompanied by deep violet eyes, in my attempt to make her look almost stormy in comparison with Kain.

All three are close, even as time passes and they inherit their titles, and Haruka takes a wife for himself - only when Kain reveals his true nature does everything begin to unravel. In the end, Haruto probably would have been the one to press the dagger into the king’s chest herself, if the choice wasn’t taken from her at the last moment.

In my dream, the reason for the story was that Zen had begun putting bits and pieces from a confusing childhood together - why his mother could not stand Wistal palace, why none of those who truly knew king Kain seemed to mourn him, why Marquis Haruka attended him and his brother so closely, like he was driven not so much by duty as by some other feeling.

#Akagami no Shirayukihime #snow white with the red hair #marquis haruka #haruto wisteria #kain wisteria #myart #ans #alternate universe #trying to make sense of an interesting dream

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edxwin-elric · 5 years

Text

Confessions

Rating: T

Pairing: Havolina/Jean Havoc x Rebecca Catalina

Disclaimer: I don’t own Fullmetal Alchemist.

Word Count: 3239

Title: Confessions

Description: Post-Promised Day, Dr. Marcoh is ready to attempt to heal Jean’s legs, but during his time away from the military, he and Rebecca have been in close contact, allowing feelings to grow between them. When the time comes, she goes with him for support, and he surprises her with a bold confession.

A/N: Request from @stupidsexymustang. #35 from this prompt list. I’m sorry this took FOREVERRR! But I hope you like it anyway!

ffn || ao3 || havolina tag

Rebecca

I park the car in front of the store and head inside. There are a few customers milling about in the aisles, and I wave to his sister behind the counter as I pass her on my way into the back room. I pause outside the door, leaning my back against the wall, and take a deep breath.

It’s only been a week since the Promised Day. Things have barely calmed down in Central since everything happened. Most of the city is still in an uproar. Riza and Mustang are still waiting to be discharged from the hospital. I feel like I’ve barely had time to catch my breath, but the one thing that’s kept me grounded is hearing Jean’s voice over the phone every night.

We haven’t told anyone about our relationship yet. If you can call it that. I’m not actually sure when it started. It’s not like either of us have outwardly acknowledged it. But…we talk daily, and he calls me ‘Becks’ and ‘babe,’ in this deep, gentle tone. Not to mention I get all giddy whenever my phone rings.

On the other hand, I could be reading too much into it.

I swallow, ignoring the anxiety blooming in my chest, and adjust my jacket. Figuring out where I stand with Jean will have to wait. What’s about to happen is significantly more pressing than that.

“Rebecca? Is that you?”

“Yeah,” I announce quietly as I slip into the dimly lit room. “Are you ready?”

“Ready as I’ll ever be.”

He wheel’s himself out from behind the inventory desk, and my heart stutters. As often as I’ve talked to him over the last few weeks, I haven’t seen him in person as much.

“Becks?”

“Um, right.” I nod. “I have the car out front.”

“Hey, are you okay?”

His hand lands on my arm, and I blink slowly as the heat from his palm sears my skin.

“Yes,” I assure him. “Sorry if I’m acting weird. I just…really want this to work.”

“Me too,” he murmurs.

Slipping my wrist out of his grasp, I walk around behind him and grab the handles on his chair.

“I can push myself, you know,” he pipes up instantly. “You don’t have to–”

“It’s all right,” I interrupt. “I want to.”

He doesn’t say anything else, until we’re on the road, heading to Central. He makes small talk at first until I relax completely, the familiar cadence of his voice calming my nerves. Before I realize it, I’m pulling up in front of hospital’s main entrance, where Fuery and Breda are waiting.

“It’s about time you two showed up,” Breda comments as I slide out of the driver’s seat. “We’ve been waiting for ages.”

“We made great time, actually,” Jean grins as his friends help him out of the car and into a hospital wheelchair. “Considering Rebecca drives like an old lady.”

“I do not,” I snap, coming up behind him and taking the handles of the chair. “You’re just used to Colonel Mustang driving like a maniac.”

“You can deny it all you want, Becks, but it won’t change the facts. Face it; a turtle could’ve passed us at the speed you were going.”

I gasp, resisting the urge to smack him. “Take that back!”

Jean laughs softly, at the same time, reaching over his shoulder to cover my hand with his, giving it a gentle squeeze before letting to. I almost trip, my retort immediately dying in my throat at his touch.

Out of the corner of my eye, I see Breda and Fuery exchange looks, and I frown.

“What?” I shift my gaze between them.

“What what?” Kain asks automatically.

“That look. What was that?”

“Uh, n-nothing,” he answers hesitantly.

Breda makes a point to look up toward the sky and start whistling, so I decide to ignore it.

“Dr. Marcoh is waiting for you,” Kain speaks up again. “This way.”

“Right.” I follow them inside, pushing Jean in front of me.

They lead us past the front desk and down a long hallway to a private room with a single bed, which they immediately move Jean to as I watch.

“The doc is finishing up some final preparations,” Breda informs us. “So, you’re just supposed to hang out here until he’s ready.”

“Okay.”

“We’re gonna go find some coffee, but we’ll be back later.”

Havoc nods, shifting against his pillows, and I slowly sit down by his feet.

A nurse comes in a few minutes later to do a preliminary check of his vitals.

“Do you want me to stay?” I turn and ask him softly as the pretty girl in the uniform waits.

“You can wait outside,” she tells me bossily without giving him a second to answer.

I look over my shoulder at her, ready to retort, when I see the look she’s giving him, her attraction to him all over her face.

Jealousy suddenly floods my chest, and my spine straightens as my mouth parts, ready to give her a verbal smack down. I freeze when Jean’s hand curls around mine.

“She can stay,” he murmurs, glancing at the nurse.

Instantly, I feel calmer, the flash of anger draining out of me. I sit back down on the edge of the bed, Jean’s thumb rubbing lightly over my wrist as the nurse taps her toe impatiently.

Taking out a clipboard, she begins to run the gamut—breathing, heartrate, blood pressure, temperature, eyes, ears, nose, mouth. Much to her annoyance, Jean holds my hand for all of it (apart from when she had him remove his shirt—a view I’ll admit made me…feel things). When she’s finally satisfied, she loops her stethoscope back around her neck and makes a few final notes in his file before meeting his eyes.

“I’ll pass all of this along to Dr. Marcoh. He should be in shortly.”

She starts to leave when she stops and turns back, walking over to the table by the door.

“I almost forgot. The doctor needs you to put these on.” She sets down her clipboard and holds up a set of patient scrubs. “Given your condition, I should probably help you–”

“I can do it,” I interrupt loudly, my grip on Jean’s hand tightening. I hear him let out a snort, and I wince internally.

Her eyes narrow at me, and I swallow.

“Hospital protocol requires that a–”

“Just leave it,” Jean chimes in on a sigh. “She’s as stubborn as a mule, so there’s no chance you can talk her down.”

I shoot him a glare, and he just shakes his head, that damn grin not budging from his stupidly handsome face.

“Fine.” She walks over to the bed and drops the scrubs unceremoniously in a heap. “Just don’t waste any time. The doctor has your marked as a priority.”

She grabs her abandoned clipboard and leaves, the door slamming behind her.

Jean

As soon as we’re alone, Rebecca lets go of my hand and stands up, grabbing the mint green scrubs.

“What was that about?” I ask, even though I have a pretty good idea.

“What?” she feigns innocence.

“I mean, if you wanted to see me naked, all you had to do was ask.”

“Shut up, Jean,” she sputters. “That’s not what I meant, and you know it.”

“Do I?” I raise an eyebrow and watch her lips part slightly as she inhales.

Fuck. Now is not the time to get hard. Not when she’s about to change my pants. I bite back a groan because that thought only made things worse. Shit. I can feel my cock swelling. Up until this point, that was one thing I was happy about. The damage to my spine paralyzed my legs, but my other important parts below my waist were spared.

That said, at this particular moment, I almost wish they weren’t.

“You almost sounded, dare I say, jealous when you were talking to the nurse,” I say instead, hoping if I rile her up enough, Becca won’t notice my raging erection causing a bulge under the sheets.

“I was not!” she hisses. “I’m just…worried.” Her eyes shift to the side, and her arms come up to hug herself. “I want this to work,” she goes on. “And I…”

“I want it to work, too,” I say, my voice sounding deeper and more serious than I intended.

Getting my legs back after coming to terms with the impossibility of that? The possibilities, the independence, the relief? There’s almost nothing I want more.

“I’m sorry if I’m acting weird,” she whispers. “I just…don’t know how to deal with what I’m feeling.”

What she’s feeling? Does that mean that she—

“Anyway, we should probably get you changed before Dr. Marcoh comes in. I’d hate to give that little vixen something to be smug about.”

I start to laugh at her last comment, but it dies instantly when she reaches for the sheets at my waist. Her fingers brush my abs, and I shiver.

“Sorry,” she murmurs. “I know your mom and your sister usually are the ones who–”

“Don’t worry about it.” I shrug, as if her touch had no effect on me. “If you can help me to the edge of the bed, it’ll be easier.”

“Right.”

It takes a little maneuvering and a lot of pretending to get my pants down. I hold my breath as they slide down my thighs, exposing the obvious erection in my underwear. But Rebecca doesn’t say a word or even give it so much as a wide-eyed glance. Instead, she pulls my pants the rest of the way off and folds them neatly before grabbing the scrubs and sliding them on.

It goes smoothly until she’s helping me get them over my ass, leaning from one side to the other. I grit my teeth at the feeling of her fingers trailing over my thinly covered cheeks, but when her arm brushes against my throbbing dick, I can’t stop my groan.

“Oh God. I’m so sorry.” She recoils, and I release a slow breath, shaking my head.

“It’s fine,” I mutter hoarsely. “Ignore it.”

I reach down and adjust the waistband of the pants before using my arms to move back toward the pillows.

“Can I have that?” I ask, reaching for the shirt.

“Of course.” She nods, a faint blush spreading up her neck. “Um, do I need to–”

“I got it, Becks.”

I take it from her and slip it on just as someone knocks on the door.

“Mr. Havoc, it’s Dr. Marcoh. Are you decent?”

“Come in, Doc!”

The door opens, and a man in a white lab coat enters, coming to stand by the side of my bed.

“Good afternoon, Mr. Havoc. Miss Catalina. I hope you’re doing well.”

I watch Rebecca out of the corner of my eye as she refolds my clothes again, giving him a short nod in acknowledgement of his greeting.

“I’m about to be doing a lot better, right?” I grin at him.

“That’s the hope.” His smile is lopsided due to the disfigurement of his features. “I’m sure the colonel has explained things to you, but I’ll go over them again.” I turn my attention back to the doctor. “I have possession of a philosopher’s stone, and my research into it has led me to believe there is a possibility I can heal your spine. This is what we’re hoping to achieve today. However, there is a chance it won’t work, seeing as I’ve never attempted it before.”

“What are the risks?”

My head swivels to the side where Rebecca just spoke, her arms crossed over her chest, watching us.

“None that I know of,” the doctor replies, his eyes on her. “If the attempt should fail, it would leave you in the state your currently in.”

“So, I’d be no worse off than I am now?” I tear my eyes from Becca to look at him.

“Exactly.”

“Then let’s get on with it. Are we doing it here?”

“No, I have a room down the hall set up, but it’s ready when you are.”

I assure him I’ve never been readier for anything, and he and Rebecca help me into the chair again. Becks wheels me into the hall where we follow the doc to a room with double doors.

“This isn’t our final destination,” he says, surprising me. “But there were a few people who wanted to see you before you went back.”

He opens the door, and I feel my chest swell at the sight of the colonel and Lieutenant Hawkeye in their respective beds, as well as Breda, Fuery, and Falman.

“We’ve been wondering when you’d get here,” Riza says quietly, her gentle voice filled with a smile. I don’t miss the large bandage on her neck, but I don’t mention it. Rebecca told me what happened. I can only imagine what it must’ve been like for the colonel to see her like that.

“Havoc. It’s good to hear your voice.” I look over at Mustang, who is looking toward me but not at me. My gaze catches on the bandages on his hands, and I struggle to swallow.

“Riza, are you doing okay?”

Rebecca abandons me to give her friend a hug.

“I’m doing very well. They would discharge me if the colonel weren’t adamant I stay by his side.”

It’s then I realize just how odd it is they’re sharing a room. Normally someone of the colonel’s rank would get a private room. Not to mention female patients aren’t ever allowed to share rooms with male patients, with the exception of blood relatives or married couples.

“That doesn’t surprise me,” Rebecca laughs softly.

“Anyway, we just wanted to wish you luck.” Riza turns back to me. “We’re all hoping this works.”

“Me too,” I admit.

“And we wanted to thank you for all your help with the Promised Day operation,” Breda chimes in.

“Yeah. We wouldn’t have stood a chance without your supplies,” Fuery adds.

“You really saved our asses, Havoc,” Mustang says sincerely. “Thank you.”

“Well, I couldn’t let you guys stage a coup without me. Besides, when Becca asks me for something, I can’t say no.”

All of the eyes in the room shift to Rebecca, and I feel my stomach sink. It’s quiet for a second before Riza breaks the silence, looking from me to her friend.

“Oh really? So, how long has that been going on?”

“What? No,” Rebecca stammers. “I—we aren’t—It isn’t like that. He just meant because I’m a woman, not that I…”

“That checks out,” Breda pipes up. “Havoc never can turn down a request from a beautiful lady.”

I start to protest when Dr. Marcoh clears his throat.

“I hate to cut the reunion short, but it’s time.”

“Of course.” Riza smiles as Becca joins me again, turning my chair around. “Good luck, Jean.”

“We’ll see you on the other side, buddy.”

“I expect you to make a full-recovery, Havoc,” Mustang commands. “That’s an order.”

“I’ll do my best, Chief.”

“Take care of him, Rebecca,” Riza calls after us.

“I will!”

And then, after a short trek, we’re at another set of doors, and the moment of truth has arrived.

Rebecca

I’m not allowed in the room. I figured I wouldn’t be, but now that I’m here, standing outside of it, I feel like I need to say something. Dr. Marcoh said there were virtually no risks, but just because he doesn’t know about them doesn’t mean there aren’t any. And if something happens to Jean without me ever saying something…

“Wait,” Jean turns to the doctor. “I need a minute before I go in.”

“Okay, but keep it short. I’ll be inside.”

He leaves us, and I go still as Jean reaches behind him and grabs my wrist, tugging me around to stand in front of him.

“Rebecca, I—are you okay?”

I suddenly realize I’m not breathing, and force myself to inhale.

“Yeah,” I whisper. “I just…”

“Listen, before I do this, I need you to know that I have always loved you.”

I feel my eyes widen as my heart trips in my chest.

“You have?”

“Absolutely.” He leans toward me, and I step back, holding up my hand.

“No, you haven’t,” I hiss at him, narrowing my eyes. “What about Miss Immortal-What’s-Her-Boobs Riza told me about?”

“You mean Lust? I wasn’t in love with her–”

“Lust?” I echo darkly. “Her name was actually Lust?”

“Well, no,” he backtracks quickly. “When I met her, she introduced herself as Solaris.”

“Because that’s so much better.”

“I think you’re kind of missing the point, here, Becks.”

“Which is what?” I scoff.

“I’m in love with you, dammit!”

I jump and feel my face flush instantly.

“Oh. Right,” I whisper.

“And, in case you forgot,” he goes on, his deep voice dropping to a low rumble, “Lust is the homunculus that stabbed me in the spine and put me in this stupid chair in the first place.”

“I did forget,” I admit, stealing a look at him. “For just a second there.”

“I love you, Becca. And…just in case this doesn’t go right, I wanted to make that clear.”

He starts to wheel past me toward the door, but I grab his arm.

“Wait,” I blurt, the word coming out breathlessly. “I…I love you, too.”

“You-you do?” he blinks. “You’re not just saying that are you?”

“Of course not,” I frown. “I…” I shift my weight and bite my lip. “I’ve been acting sort of weird today because of…this.” I wave to the door. “But also, because I wasn’t sure how to tell you, but…I love you, Jean Havoc.”

I glance up at the door; I should really get going.

“I’ll see you after,” I tell him softly.

I start to step around him when he grabs my hand, tugging me back.

“Jean–”

He pulls me toward him as his other hand reaches up, tunneling into my hair. I barely have time to blink before I feel his mouth against mine.

Oh God. We’re kissing. His tongue runs along the seam of my lips, and I gasp, giving him an opening. My knees go weak, and I catch myself on the back of his chair, my other hand landing on his shoulder. He tilts his head, deepening the kiss, and I moan into his mouth. I want to climb into his lap and kiss him forever. My thighs clench at the sensations his tongue is inciting, and my hand slips down his arm, caressing the bulk of his giant bicep.

A loud noise down the hall startles us, and we split apart. I’m breathing heavily, and I feel feverish. My face is probably red, and I think he ruined my hair.

“I’m sorry,” he gasps. “I just…needed to do that.”

“Don’t be.” I shake my head. “I…I’m glad you did.”

He nods, and I lean down, putting my lips to his ear.

“I’ll see you soon,” I murmur. “And then it’ll be my turn to kiss you.”

“I’m holding you to that,” he says instantly.

I laugh softly and push the door open so he can wheel himself in.

“It’s a promise.”

Once he’s inside, I say a silent prayer, and turn, heading back to Mustang and Riza’s room to wait, absentmindedly reaching up to touch my tingling lips, as I walk.

#havolina #jean havoc #rebecca catalina #havbec #fma #havolina fanfiction #post promised day #my havolina #fanfiction by me #my fics #touch of royai #fmab #fullmetal alchemist #fueled by fire #confessions #havolina kisses

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seawolvesanddragons · 5 years

Text

Writing - A Futile Sacrifice

Will tried his best to squash down his nerves. It was after dark now - the time when Cayden had decided to strike. Under the cover of night, no one would see them coming, and with Visigoth's powers being stronger during the night hours, no one would expect them to attack now.

If this worked perfectly, as Cayden had laid out, they would strike a hearteningly blow to Visigoth's evildoing. Possibly, they would even put an end to the tyranny for good. Will had to believe it would go perfectly, that Cayden was right. Anything else was a suicide mission for all of them involved. Next to him, Lizza's skin crackled with electricity. A sign that she was nervous. The thought almost made Will laugh. Lizza could call down lightning and summon fire balls with a snap of her fingers. The idea that she was as nervous as Will was incredibly strange. They were all out there, following Cayden quietly through the brush. Lars, his knives and claws (both equally sharp) moved almost silently, like a shadow. Lizza, Will, Inari and Maxian weren't nearly as sure footed in their movements. They drew closer to Visigoth's lair. A sliver of moonlight shone above, like a cat taunting them.

Will's stomach felt like it may drop out. He tried to recall the advice Master Kain had given him weeks ago, before their mentor had fallen in battle. "We all have our strengths and weaknesses, William. Do not discount your own gifts just yet, merely because they are not as flashy as your comrades. I see that you will have a large role to play before this is all over." The words gave him a sense of sad reassurance, their memory tainted with the fate of Master Kain. It reminded him he had a job here. Weaker one in the group or not, Cayden needed them all for this to work. Even if he hadn't, Will couldn't leave his friends to fight without him. Will had always been incapable of staying behind. "This is it" Cayden whispered. They were mere feet away from the door now. "Does everyone remember what they are to do?" They nodded. None of them dared breathe a word. Will took a moment to watch Cayden, drawing inspiration from the older boy's model. Cayden had been standing up to Visigoth for years. He had some of the most powerful gifts Will had ever seen, but even more impressive were his leadership skills. He always had a plan, or the right word to rally someone to the fight. If anyone were to defeat Visigoth, it would be Cayden. "Right." Cayden flashed them his crooked grin. Will wondered if he felt as calm as he was acting. "I have faith in each of you. Tonight is the night we strike at the heart of Visigoth." He gestured to the door, and Lars stepped forward, metal gleaming. He picked the lock in minutes. Cayden stepped through first, the rest of them following closely. The antechamber was even darker than the outside. Step one, to infiltrate, done. Then the plan went horribly wrong. Without warning, torches along the wall flared to life, illuminating dozens upon dozens of armored fighters. Iron bars formed like a cage around half the room. "AMBUSH!" Inari cried. To their credit, the team responded in action instantly. This is what they had been doing to survive for years. Lizza struck at the enemies with fireballs, as Lars shredded through five like they were nothing. The rest of Visigoth's minions leapt from the battlements, forcing them away from their group formation. Will struggled to dodge their blows. He could feel himself becoming winded. From the looks on his friends faces, the fight was draining them as well. He could't figure out why - they had been in fights longer than these. "Get back!" Cayden yelled across the chamber. Will understood. Their plan was doomed from the start. It was better now for them all to survive then to try and take out as many minions as possible. A looming shadow broke off from the wall, stepping into the lighted part of the chamber. A chill ran down Will's spine as he saw who it was. Visigoth, in the flesh. His black robes seemed to blend with the shadows. Will realized why they were all tiring so quickly. Visigoth, at the height of his strength, was sapping their energy away. They needed to get out of there. Visigoth raised his hand, closing it in a fist. A groaning noise filled the air - an iron wall was closing over the door they had just come through. In moments, they would all be trapped. "GO!" Cayden yelled, hitting an enemy out of the way even as he moved backwards, toward the door. They all began to do the same.

Cayden knocked a man about to attack Will away, stepping in front of the younger boy. They shuffled backward together, Cayden keeping their enemies at bay as Will guided him backwards, his eyes still transfixed in horror on Visigoth. Will wondered if Cayden even knew Visigoth was there. The creaking continued, the wall seeming to close faster. Visigoth had stepped further into the light, his malicious eyes glinting. He was staring at Will and Cayden, still fighting off his underlings. His expression was of unmasked glee and anticipation as he watched. Cayden. Will's brain realized. He wants Cayden. The rest of the group was almost at the wall, but it was closing fast. Cayden and Will were still too far away, and more and more of Visigoth's men were concentrating on them. Will's brain cleared. The only way out of this was obvious. He pulled the stone Master Kain had given him at their first meeting off of his belt. He threw it across the room. Years of practice paid off. His aim was perfect. The stone struck Visigoth's fist, causing it to open in surprise. The wall stopped closing. It was only a moment, but it was all Will needed. He grabbed Cayden's shirt, yanking him roughly behind him, practically throwing him out the door. Visigoth had already recovered, his hand closed in a fist once more. The wall was closing again, barely room for him or Cayden to get through, and too many enemies to have time. Will threw himself at the nearest line of fighters, hoping his dead weight would push them back a little. In the reflection of an opponent's sword, he saw the distorted image of Cayden being pulled through the gap just as the wall closed. Relief flooded him, followed shortly after by mild terror. He expected one of Visigoth's men to finish him, or at least knock him out. Instead, they drew back as one, melting into the shadows of the walls. Only Visigoth remained, staring at Will. His cold, terrible face was unreadable. Will felt like he may black out on his own any minute in terror, but he managed to glare triumphantly at Visigoth. Visigoth came closer, eyes locked on Will. Cayden was safe. The rest of them were all safe. Visigoth had lost, for today. Will reminded himself. The words helped a little. "Yes, yes, you helped your friends get away. How clever of you. "Visigoth murmured. "How dreadfully noble." Will knees felt weak, but he held his ground. The wall was fully shut. He was trapped, but his friends were safe. The fact made him smile in almost giddy defiance. Visigoth smiled back. "How stupid. You're the one I wanted." Visigoth came closer, within arms reach of Will. His words didn't make sense. Will's head spun. This couldn't be right. Cayden... "Let them run, and never come back."Visigoth said softly. His eyes were cold, and they lingered on Will's with unhidden curiosity and the promise of misery. "I prefer it were just us. More intimate this way, no?" Will's smile died as his bravado gave out. He felt like he couldn't breathe. Visigoth's smile sharpened. "You interest me." He raised his hand, but the outline of it was fuzzy unfocused. "I supposed I'll have to thank you for your cooperation." No, Will's body protested, but he couldn't say anything. Visigoth waved his fingers. "Sleep, Will." The room spun once more, and everything went dark.

(Once again, credit to The Fake Redheads prompts, which had the lines “Yes, you helped your friends get away” “How stupid, you are the one I wanted” and “Let them run and never come back;I prefer it was just us, more intimate this way.” The rest is all mine.)

#seawolvesanddragonswrites #short stories #unfinished ending #open ending #cliff hanger #writing #why do I always name a character will #fantasy/magic #prompts

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zerolover66 · 7 years

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I am making a separate post because I don’t want to reblog someone else’s post that is already pretty long and then add to it. So please don’t think that this post is passive aggressive.

First let me start by saying that everyone and every couple in VK has at times paralleled in some way or another. So as I said before parallels abound in VK. They are all over the place. But the question is who is meant to parallel who the most? How are we meant to see it? How does Hino want us to see it?

There are some things that I personally think are obvious. But like I said there are still times when even Zero and Kaname have paralleled each other. So Hino has a thing for parallels in order to show how actions and beliefs change your outcome depending on how you deal with your lot in life.

Now to get to it.

Juuri and Yuuki represent light in VK. Their light was not able to save Rido or Kaname. But their light was special to Haruka and Zero.

Haruka and Zero both really did die. They both died smiling at the woman they spent their entire life with. They both told their loved one how happy they had been. Kaname did not die. He was a pureblood and was preserved in ice by Aidou. So Kaname has yet to actually truly die. Both Zero and Haruka’s deaths seemed more tragic simply because they both evaporated. One into dust because he was a regular vampire and one into glass shards because he was a pureblood. That is completely a parallel there. They both LEFT this earth. They both loved one woman all of their lives. They both stood by that said woman for all of their lives. They both found happiness through the only woman they ever loved. They both smiled and said calming things to the one they loved at the end of their lives. They didn’t have to use that time to try to set their loved one free from the emotional pain they had caused them. They didn’t need to explain their actions or try to atone for sins that they had committed.

Haruka and Zero both had to wait for quite sometime to have their love fully returned. Haruka and Juuri and Yuuki and Zero had the same kind of friendly combative relationship. It was not the same for Yuuki towards Kaname. She worshiped him and rarely stood up to him.

Haruka and Juuri started the initial pacifism cause and may I say that Zero and Yuuki finished it. Kaname was the one who truly hated his own kind. He actually was not for pacifism. He went around trying to kill his own kind which in turn caused a small war between vampires and humans. That is not pacifism. Zero’s hatred was only born out of what Kaname set in motion to try to get Zero to become his weapon and kill all vampires but Zero was too kind and would never do such a thing. When we use the word kind, who else comes to mind? Haruka!!

Both Haruka and Zero tell their loved one that they were happy before they die. Haruka died knowing that Juuri would sacrifice her life shortly after to make their loved one, Yuuki, human. Zero died knowing that Yuuki would use her life shortly after to make her loved one, Kaname, human.

Haruka had one child of his own and raised Kaname, the ancestor, who was not his child and may I add was also the cause of the death of his real son. Although it was not ancestor Kaname’s fault, but still it took a whole lot of kindness to raise a child who was indirectly responsible for your loved one’s death. Zero had one child of his own and raised Ai, the daughter of the man who intentionally set out to ruin his life and turn him into a weapon and was directly related to not only his parents’ deaths but also Ichiru’s. That takes a whole lot of kindness, on a whole other level, to raise the child of the man responsible for your family’s deaths and your own suffering.

Kaname had hatred for his own kind and tried so very hard to get Zero to feel that way but in the end what Yuuki’s light couldn’t do for Kaname it did for Zero. Zero never hated vampires or purebloods until Kaname released Shizuka and Shizuka killed Zero’s family. So I would argue that the very light Kaname saw in Yuuki should have saved him from his hatred of vampires and purebloods but it didn’t. The same way Juuri’s light could not have saved Rido.

I always find it pretty funny when one of the main characters, in more ways than one, is compared to another dark character and yet people refuse to acknowledge that. Kaname himself realizes who he is most like and it’s NOT Haruka. Haruka did NOT have darkness in his soul. Rido did and so did Kaname.

We can’t use the Zero and Kaien because their both hunters parallel, simply because Zero is a special case. He is not only a hunter but also a real vampire at the same time. Kaien is not a vampire even if he has higher levels of the hooded woman’s genes. Kaien has never craved blood nor drank blood ever. He is totally human with more of the hooded woman’s genes than most hunters. Zero actually has fangs and drinks blood and is a vampire.

Both Zero and Haruka fell in love first. They had to wait for quite sometime for the object of their affection to look their way. That can not be said about Yuuki towards Kaname as she was quite smitten with him right from the start. Kaname never had to work at it for Yuuki’s love.

Also may I add that by the time Kaien met Juuri she was already married to Haruka so we really can’t call it a love triangle, can we?!! Unless we think that Kaien would make a move on a married woman and that Juuri would even look that way. The answer is no. Juuri was already Happily married to Haruka when her and Kaien met. There was not an LT. It was Kaien being smitten by Juuri’s warmth, like the burning rays of the sun and also by seeing Haruka and Juuri together loving and laughing just like humans. He came to realize that vampires had feelings just like humans. Zero already knew this from the day he was born. Why do you think he tried to save Yagari’s fiance who was level e. Zero never was born hating anyone or anything. Zero and Yuuki and Haruka and Juuri represent pacifism.

It always amazes me when people forget that Zero was kind by nature. That he never would have had any hatred at all to overcome had it not been for Kaname!!! Hino clearly showed us that Kaname hated himself and all of his kind. He wanted to rid the world of his kind and turn Yuuki human therefore ending his own life. He went against everything that Juuri and Haruka stood for. Kaname held hatred in his heart for his race. People overlook what Hino tried to show and that is sad.

When Hino had Shizuka tell Kaname that by killing her and drinking her blood he had chosen darkness and would walk that path, what do you think that was for. It was to show that he had chosen not to follow the light. He had chosen to fall into darkness with no chance for a good outcome. That does not parallel Haruka but it does parallel Rido.

Kaien was left with both Yuuki and Zero. Kaname is left with both Ai and Ren. Yuuki and Zero gave a different type of meaning to Kaien’s life. Ren and Ai will do the same for Kaname. Yuuki and Zero were Kaien’s light. Ren and Ai are Kanme’s light.

Kaname and Rido both had an obsessive love that caused them to do horrible things to try to acquire that love for themselves. They could not escape the darkness that dwelled within them. Haruka and Zero had patience, kindness, and waited for their loved one to finally look their way. They were light.

Even though both Haruka and Zero had to wait for their love to be returned they both were always there beside the one they loved. Zero and Yuuki grew up together. Haruka and Juuri grew up together. They were always together until the very end of their lives.

I could go on but I am pressed for time right now. But I think the fact that Zeki parallels Haruka and Juuri can be summed up in Yuuki’s own words;

No matter how difficult a thing may be, they can surpass it for sure if they are together....these couples are nice.

This statement fits Senri and Rima, Kain and Ruka, Aidou and Yori, the Kiryuus, Haruka and Juuri, and Zeki. Zeki parallels Haruka and Juuri most closely and all other couples in the story parallel zeki in one way or another. The only couple who when they were together could NOT overcome anything was yume. That is canon. That is the absolute truth. They could not possibly parallel Haruka and Juuri.

Haruka and Juuri is Hino’s gold standard for what couples are supposed to be like in VK. Who did Hino have parallel them in so many ways as well as some of her art work? Only zeki.

Of course everyone is entitled to see the story as they choose to. But there are still some facts that are simply undeniable.

Well that was my two cents worth :)

#vampire knight #vampire knight memories #radiant zeki

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hellzyeahthewebwieldingavenger · 7 years

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I’ve been doing some thinking about Doc Ock recently.

Obviously I despise Superior Spider-Man and the characterization given to him during and after it for various reasons.

I say him but yet another issue with modern Doc Ock is...he isn’t Doc Ock.

No I’m not talking about how he’s simply portrayed in his personality, dialogue and so on (though yes that too) I mean he is literally physically not the real Doctor Octopus.

If you pay attention to how the pseudo science of Superior Spider-Man is explained (eventually it contradicts itself at points) you will be aware that in Dying Wish (ASM #698-700) Doctor Octopus did not truly swap his and Spider-Man’s minds. Rather he created a for lack of a better term digital copy of their respective minds and overwrote Spidey’s mind with his own and vice versa.

This is why Ghost Peter was a thing in Superior Spider-Man. That’s the actual real mind of Spider-Man suppressed in his own body by Otto’s. This is also why in Clone Conspiracy (specifically ASM Volume 4 #20 I believe) when Doc Ock entered the mind of his new clone body Peter’s mind was also there and he needed to erase it. In cloning Doc Ock Ben Reilly by extension cloned the copy of Peter’s mind Doc Ock had ‘uploaded’ into his own dying body.

In other words the Peter Parker who died in ASM #700 was not the real Peter Parker and the Otto Octavius running around in Spidey’s body in Superior Spider-Man was in fact not the original Doc Ock.

The pseudo science behind this actually has precedent as Doc Ock created a digital back up of his own mind in the 90s before Kaine killed him in the Clone Saga. This digital version of his mind was then uploaded into his body when he was resurrected shortly after the Clone Saga using a similar mystical ceremony to the one the Hand are famous for. It’s actually because Doc Ock’s memories post-resurrection are based upon this back up of his mind that he forgot Spider-Man was Peter Parker, a fact he’d learned in Web of Death, the storyline in which Kaine murdered him.

Anyway in Clone Conspiracy we learn that during Spider-Verse Otto created yet another back up of his mind whilst he was still Superior Spider-Man, and that back up lived inside the Living Brain robot for awhile before (like I said above) inhabiting a clone of his original body. At the end of Clone Conspiracy he then transferred his mind yet again to a new body, one which had DNA from himself and Peter Parker and that’s the body he has now.

What does this clusterfuck mean?

It means that the Doc Ock/Superior Octopus we have now is in fact a copy of a copy of a copy of Doc Ock’s mind living in an all new body with different DNA to the one he was born in.

In other words...he’s a goddam clone.

The actual original Doc Ock we met in ASM #3 in 1963 died in body and mind back in ASM #700.

Like I said...this is a clusterfuck.

BUT...I think there is actually potential for exploration here.

Thing about it.

Doc Ock died in Web of Death knowing Peter was Spider-Man and during what amounted to a midlife crisis for him.

He was resurrected but his memories were based upon events preceding that and then he went on with his life devoid of the midlife crisis and knowledge he’d been dealing with at the time of his death. In a sense you could argue he was a different person, or rather a different version of himself. And that version died in ASM #700.

Then you have Superior Spider-Man who existed from ASM #698-Superior #31 when he erased himself and admitted Spider-Man was better than him.

Then you got the Otto we have now, the one who’s ‘life’ diverged from Superior Spider-Man’s circa Spider-Verse and never went through the major life events such as bonding with Venom, confronting Norman Osborn, seeing places he cared about destroyed or admitting Peter Parker was better than him. Instead he lives on believing himself superior and now has an all new body of his own, truly unique to the ones previous versions of himself have possessed. It resembles himself and Peter Parker but is not a clone or literally either of them.

So essentially Doc Ock, the guy who famously has 4 metal arms has had 4 different incarnations.

This is grounds for some real exploration of issues relating to identity, and how events shape and influence us, even beyond our formative years in childhood and adolescence.

My suggestion would be to legitimately resurrect the original Doc Ock in mind and body. Have him remember everything leading up to Dying Wish, but including the events of Web of Death.

Meanwhile Superior Octopus somehow obtains the memories of the original Superior Spider-Man (so everything from beyond Spider-Verse).

What we’d wind up with is 2 distinct versions of Doc Ock with very different outlooks on how they are or should be superior to Spider-Man.

Whilst Superior Octopus believes he is superior by virtue of (in his eyes) beating Spidey at his own game, the original Doc Ock feels quite the opposite.

To him the plot to copy his mind into Spider-Man and become him was nothing more than an act of sickness and desperation. In his now healthy body and mind where his seemingly inevitable oblivion is not so inevitable anymore he actually sees the idea of becoming Spider-Man as the ultimate act of degradation.

Doctor Octopus always KNEW he was better than Spider-Man, he just happened to not prove it is all (symptomatic of how his ego blinds him to the truth). And if, as he always maintained, he is and always was superior to Spider-Man (as much as he admits Spider-Man is a worthy foe to him) then becoming him would be to lower himself to his level. Worse to become him as a way to prove he is better than Spider-Man would be to do just the opposite. If victory over his mortal foe can only be achieved through becoming him then by definition does that not mean that Otto was himself inferior to Spider-Man all along? If he can only outdo Spider-Man by becoming him then it means he could not outdo him as plain old Doc Ock.

This would be unacceptable and so Otto would double down upon proving himself better than Spider-Man by being himself and not by being like the wall crawler. And he’d probably have beef with the so called Superior Octopus whilst he was at it, determined to showcase his superiority to this deranged facsimile of himself.

And part and parcel of that would be illustrated in their starkly different attitudes to knowing Peter’s true identity.

Whilst Superior Octopus would use such knowledge exploitatively and in a spiteful manner, the real Doc Ock would absolutely not.

Doc Ock has deep down a humanitarian core and whilst it’s not well nurtured it is still there. And so Doc Ock would make a point of leaving Peter’s loved ones out of their conflicts, or at the very least not targeting them to get to Spider-Man. At most an abduction to lure out his foe would be as far as he went, so long as they didn’t do anything foolish they would not be harmed, especially Aunt May.

In fact the original Doctor Octopus is not particularly fussed that Peter Parker is Spider-Man. to him Spider-Man is his foe, who he is under the mask is incidental. Sure he could use such knowledge to kill him in his sleep, or poison his food. But these would be unworthy, debase ways of defeating his mortal enemy, mere trickery that almost any common thug or crook could dream up.

For Doctor Octopus nothing short of confronting Spider-Man in the battlefield armed perhaps with his latest genius invention will satisfactorily prove him better than the accursed arachnid.

This would also provide a nice contrast to Spidey’s 2 other major foes who’ve known his secret identity.

Whilst Venom simply knew Peter’s identity and targeted his private life to simply find him and kill him, Norman Osborn used this knowledge to torment Peter and hurt those he loved. Otto meanwhile would know the truth but ultimately not care nor use the knowledge in any way that would render his rivalry with Spider-Man that different to how it has traditionally been.

#Venom #Norman Osborn #Green Goblin #Doc Ock #Doctor Octopus #otto octavius #Spider-Man #peter parker #superior spider-man #clone saga #kaine #kaine parker #Superior Octopus

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dubredofanfics · 7 years

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Hit n Run [BONGLENI]

XXII. Lola Meldy

Weeks passed by, Leni slowly recovered from her mistake with Antonio. He made it easier for her as he avoided crossing paths with her again. Eventually, after a few months, he also moved to another department of Pangaea replacing him as the representative of their company in Rocos.

Bongbong, on another side, guided Leni during her recovery and made sure that she'll get through it wisely. He was happy to see her smile again.

Despite the miss that is sprouting on Bongbong's chest, Leni tried her best to keep herself from expecting anything from him. She knew that she still loves him but she knew that it is very unlikely that he would ever reconsider her again and she's been disappointed for a lot of times already — it was enough.

She just went with the flow, enjoyed his company. He stopped being too harsh on her hence, he became very supportive to her. He always encourage her to be tough and wise at work and in life.

—

Bongbong was having a bad day, he was having a hard time thinking what to give her mother for her birthday especially that she's coming home from London on the next weekend.

Leni entered his office to hand in some papers interrupting his thinking. She stood in front of him upon handing in the documents waiting for his further instructions. He reviewed the papers and suddenly came up with an idea upon looking at her.

"May gagawin ka ba ngayon sabado?" He asked. "May pasok po di ba?" She replied. He paused for a moment to think if there are important errands to do on Saturday.

"Sumama ka sakin sa Sabado." He requested. She was surprised with his order.

"Saan po tayo pupunta?" She spelled out making him chuckle. "Bibili ako ng regalo." He clarified making her a bit relieved. "Oh... Okay." She chuckled back. She nodded in approval and confirmation. She was about to leave the office when a question sprout on her mind.

"Uhm... Pwede po magtanong?" She sounded a bit hesitant. "What?" He replied. "Sino pong bibilhan niyo ng regalo?" He was silenced a bit as he wasn't very comfortable sharing family related things.

"Mommy ko." He uttered shortly.

She was a bit surprised upon hearing his response. She never thought he's that generous to his parents. "Oh... Okay!" She replied happily before leaving the premise.

—

Saturday came, Bongbong drove while Leni sat on the passenger's seat. "Ano bang maganda iregalo?" He asked. She felt overwhelmed for a bit. "Mmm... Ikaw, mas alam mo kung anong gusto ng mama mo... Ano bang mga hilig niya?" She retorted.

"Hilig..." He uttered. "Mmm... mahilig siya sa mga damit? She loves to cook. She always cooks for me and Imee when we were younger. She likes jewelries. My dad bought her a lot of jewelries when he was still alive..." He didn't notice that he was already sharing a lot. She felt entertained and honoured to make him feel comfortable sharing such stories.

Suddenly, Bongbong realized that he has been sharing a lot. He ended his sharing and focused on driving. "Siguro maganda kung bigyan mo siya ng necklace or bracelet. Yung pwedeng maging sentimental item." She suggested. "You think so?" He replied. "Oo, para maaalala niya yung dad mo." She continued. He agreed that it was a good idea. He shifted the stirring wheel and headed to the known jewellery store he knows.

They started to check on the stores to look for the perfect gift for his mother. Leni guided him as he chooses the perfect item.

"Ito kaya?" She took his attention and pointed at a rose gold heart locket necklace. "Excuse me, can I see this?" He asked the seller.

They looked at the necklace and inspected it. "Maganda kung lalagyan mo ng family picture niyo para kahit magkakalayo kayo pwede niya tignan yan" She stated. He was fascinated with the idea, he thought it's wonderful. He looked at Leni as his fascination continued. She smiled at him.

As he saw her smile at him with her brown eyes looking back, he felt a sudden flow of emotions inside his chest.

How come she talks like she knows my mother so much...

He looked back at the necklace and thought about her mom and that's when he knew it was the perfect gift.

"Gusto niyo po i-try ng girlfriend niyo?" The seller asked Bongbong and pointed at Leni making them chuckle with the mistake. "Ah..." They laughed.

"Hindi po kami...."

"Di po niya ako girlfriend....."

"Yeah... No..."

They clarified making the seller feel shy about her mistake. "Ay, sorry! Akala ko kase para kayong mga cute na magboyfriend na dumadaan dito." She apologized. "Ah, hindi po..." Leni chuckled.

"Tingin mo kami?" He asked the seller. "Pareho po kase kayong gwapo at maganda, ang hirap isipin na hindi." She chuckled. "Well, too bad hindi kami pero I'd like that." He replied making Leni look at him in curiosity of what he just said.

"Anyway, I'll take this." He handed the locket. The seller walked away to pack it up and write an invoice.

"Anong ibig mong sabihin kanina?" Leni asked him. He looked at her with a smile. "Anong ibig mong sabihin na anong ibig ko sabihin?" He asked back. She didn't know if it was right to ask again. She exhaled and shook her head. "Wala..." She replied. He knew that even without explaining, she knew what he meant.

Did he just say na maganda kung magiging girlfriend niya ako or nagaassume lang ako sa narinig ko? Ugh. Nevermind. Erase. Erase.

"Uy." He called her distracted attention. "Ha?" She replied shockingly. "Tinatanong kita kung gusto mo na ba kumain?" He asked. "Ah..." Her mind felt blank for a while. "Parang gusto ko ng baby back ribs, TGIF nalang?" He suggested. "Sige, go lang." She replied.

They immediately drove to TGIF to eat and exchanged some personal conversations throughout their meals.

"We used to be close and tight but when my father died... Ilang buwan lang yon after ko gumraduate ng college. Simula non lagi nang gusto ni mama mapag-isa. Ayaw nga niyang lumalapit kami sakanya, ayaw niya siguro makita namin siyang umiiyak." Bongbong shared. "Nakakalungkot nga yan... Malamang nasaktan siya ng sobra sa pagkawala ng dad mo. Naalala ko nga nung namatay yung magulang ko noon, magkahawak pa yung kamay nila until their last breaths. Grabe..." She shared.

"Grabe yung love noh? Sobrang powerful..." She stared blankly from afar.

"It is." He uttered and looked at her.

After a while, she looked back at him and took a bite of her sandwich to avoid an awkward staring. "Kain na tayo." She uttered to kill the silence. He knew she was feeling a bit uncomfortable, he smiled at her and took a bite of his meal.

"So... saan pala tayo pupunta after nito?" She asked and aimed to change the topic. "Uhm... may ano... yun... sa bibig mo." He uttered extraneously. "Ha...?" She uttered in confusion.

He felt a sudden discomfort, he didn't want to embarrass her but he also couldn't keep calm to see the excess mayonnaise at the tip of her lips. He took a tissue and wiped it off her lips by himself making her flabbergasted. "You have something on your mouth." He explained upon wiping her lips.

"Ah, sorry!" She chuckled at her own untidiness. "It's fine." He tittered.

She found it romantic and sweet of him but she tried to shrug it off as she recalls his real personality. Commitment isn't his thing and if she would allow herself to be carried away by his actions, it would just hurt her again.

—

Bongbong invited Leni in his place the same day that his mom will arrive to help him and Imee out in cooking for their mother.

"Alam mo Bongets, you should give Leni some extra credit for giving you a service outside Rocos." Imee joked making them chuckle. "Sige, ano bang gusto mo, Leni?" He asked jokingly. "Wala po 'yon. Maliit na bagay lang naman po ito." She stated and continued cooking.

"Sigurado ako magugustuhan ka ni mama." Imee assumed. "Ah..." She chuckled in flattery. "Baka po kase umalis rin ako after ko magluto. Ayoko naman po guluhin yung oras niyo kasama yung mama niyo po." She explained. "Ay ganon." Imee retorted. "Imee, anong sabi ni mama?" Bongbong asked.

"The more the merrier." They uttered simultaneously and chortling afterwards.

Leni smiled at them finding them so cute. "Pero kase, nakakahiya naman po. Sa ibang araw nalang po siguro. Nako di nga po ako nakapag-ayos." She replied.

After a few hours, Leni started cooking Mrs. Marcos (Imelda)'s favorite soup. They saved it for the last so that it would still be hot when served. Imee went to the airport to fetch their mother.

—

The car horn beeped. Leni isn't done cooking the soup yet but almost done. Bongbong went out and left her for a while to assist his mom. Leni felt elated to hear the greetings from the outside while cooking.

"Bongets! I miss you!" She was squealing, she was greeting every house helper too. She sounded so nice.

"What do we have for dinner?" She asked as she entered the house with Bongbong and Imee. "Syempre yung mga favorites mo ma." Imee answered excitedly as they took their seats on the dining area.

"Wow, ang sarap ng mga 'to ha." Imelda cheered upon seeing the meals served. She took a few bites and couldn't help but appreciate the delicious food served. Leni finally finished cooking the soup and lead the serving. "And of course! Your favorite soup!" Imee whooped. Imelda felt delighted to have her favorite soup but her delight turned into curiousity upon seeing an unfamiliar face — Imee and Bongbong knew how intrigued she was.

Imee immediately stood up and introduced Leni. "Mom, this is Leni. Halos siya yung nagluto ng mga yan." She shared. "Really? Dear, you have a talent! Ang sarap ha? Appetizers palang." She praised her making her blush. "Thank you po madam." She uttered softly. "She's really great and very nice." Imee added. "And not to mention, very beautiful young lady." Imelda followed up making her blush even more.

"Ay, nakakahiya po pero thank you." Leni covered her face with her hands. Bongbong smiled upon seeing her mother make Leni blush. It was a beautiful sight for him. "Bongets, you should go after these kinds of lady." Imelda teased making them a bit startled. "Ma?!" He turned red making them laugh.

"Nako ma, hindi mo na kailangan sabihan yan." Imee teased as she went back to her seat. "Ano?" Bongbong chuckled. "Ako nanaman ang napagtripan niyo." He stated. "Sorry, Leni." He apologized to her being included to the laughter.

Imelda was a bit off. She couldn't cope very much with the humor that they were throwing. "Ay, bakit? Girlfriend mo ba siya?" She asked for some clarification. "Ay, nako hindi po ma'am." Leni chuckled with the misunderstanding. "Muka bang kame?" He asked his mother.

"Teka, I'm lost." Imelda couldn't stop smiling. Leni remained silent and allowed them to talk. "Ano yung sinasabi ni Imee? Are you two dating?" She asked Bongbong and Leni, he tittered. "Kung papayag ba siya, bakit hindi?" He replied making Leni surprised with his response.

"Ha?" Leni squealed and tapped his arm in a mischievous manner. "Hard to get 'to, ma." He added. "Uy!" She squealed. "Di po totoo yon ma'am. Di naman po niya ako dinedate." She paused and felt a bit of regret with how she said that statement, they all looked at her. "I mean... Simpleng tao lang po ako." She uttered.

"Pero kung idedate ka ba nitong si Bongets, papayag ka ba?" Imelda asked bringing in such flattery to Leni as she sounded like she is in favor of them going out. "Ho? Uh.." She uttered in pressure. "Ito talagang si Bong ang hina, si mama pa talaga ang maglalakad sayo kay Leni?" Imee cuts in.

"Oy, Imee." He chuckled. "Come on, Bongets. Be a gentleman." Imelda joined Imee's vibe. He jokingly glared at Imee. Leni felt like she was on a hot seat, the house keepers were squealing over Leni and Bongbong from a distance.

He rolled his eyes and looked at her. "Leni." He uttered making everyone squeal their guts out already. "Pinagtutulungan niyo ako ha!" He interrupted trying to suppress his blushing. "Leni." He went back to her. "Will you go on a date with me?" He asked her out in front of everyone.

She covered her mouth with her hand in extreme flushing. As soon as she had a control of her emotions she released her mouth from her hands. "Hala. Totoo ba?" She pursed her lips to keep the huge smile from flashing. They looked at her with so much anticipation. "Osige po." She uttered humbly.

"Yes!" They squealed. Bongbong felt a bit humiliated but he liked the fact that he was being that sweet to Leni. "Okay, honey. Why don't you sit and eat with us?" Imelda invited her.

"Ho? Nako okay lang po ako ma'am-"

"Nope. I demand you to join us. I don't take no as an answer." She retorted. "Wow..." She uttered and had no choice but to sit beside Bongbong. "May pinagmanahan ka pala talaga." She whispered to Bongbong. He held her hand and stroked it with his thumb. "Kanino pa ba ako magmamana?" He smiled at her as they settled down to eat.

They exchanged a long and happy conversation at the dining area as they ate their meals. Imelda couldn't deny to herself how much she sees herself in Leni and how much Bongbong and Leni reminds her of her relationship with Bongbong's late father. She liked her so much, she liked her so much for his son.

She also appreciated how sweet, humble and caring she was to Bongbong just by seeing her serve him foods at the table and listening to the way she talks. She felt her sincere kindness.

She's perfect for Bongbong.

—

After cleaning up, Imelda informed them that she'll go to bed already leaving them behind.

"Good night, ma."

"Nigh, ma."

"Good night, ma'am."

Silence entered the room. Imee looked at Bongbong and Leni. "I think I'll go too. Night." She ran away upstairs leaving the two behind.

"So... I think we can call it a day." Bongbong cuts the silence off. "Oo nga e..." She replied with a smile. The awkward silence penetrated them again.

"So uhm..." He uttered randomly to end the deafening silence. "Hmm?" She replied. "Uhm... Sorry about my mom and Imee. Mahilig lang talaga yung mga yon pagtripan ako." He stated. She chuckled. "Okay lang, ang cute nga e." She replied, he nodded.

"So uhm..." He uttered again trying his best to avoid the silence. She looked at him waiting for him to speak. "About the going out... You were serious about it, right?" He asked for the sake of having something to talk about.

She gulped and smiled softly. "Uh... kung seryoso ka... malamang seryoso rin yung sagot ko." She pursed her lips carefully replying to his question. A smile sprouted on his lips. "Oo naman, seryosong seryoso." He cleared making her a bit surprised. She looked at him with the obvious astonishment in her face.

He paced towards her and kissed her forehead. "Good night, Leni." He uttered. She watched him walk away still baffled of everything. She suddenly saw herself smiling as she headed outside to go home.

Bongbong walked up to his room thinking about her until he laid himself on the bed. He couldn't help but smile whenever he recalls how she blushed in front of them when they were teasing her to him. She never changed and he always loved her and her ways.

Wait... Did I just say I love her?

#bongleni #hnr #series #rating pg

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