I just honestly want to write Electroborn fanfiction does anyone have any Electroborn requests they'd like fulfilled?
trying on a metaphor
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@froodycarn
I just honestly want to write Electroborn fanfiction does anyone have any Electroborn requests they'd like fulfilled?
More Than Insight
Description: Sometimes it's better to have someone there than suffer alone as a matter of pride.
Paring: Electroborn
Other: This is a little inconsistent but I couldn't find a way to change it around. This is outside of the series I wanted to do.
The first sign that something was about to go wrong was not the loud clattering of the pen hitting the glass surface of the work desk. The first sign was the change of the air in the room. A swift and involuntary clenching of the lungs spoke far louder than sound.
His hands would shake. Those violent shakes and Harry would clench his fists so tightly they made the whites of his knuckles show. No matter what he was doing at the time, no matter how important to the boys views, he would concentrate on that single movement that would keep his his from the continual rattling they would suffer from at random moments.
Electro himself would watch from whatever perch he had chosen that day.
Electro was generally content with just existing in the same space without doing much. He believed that Max Dillon had slowly begun to fade from his mind further and further every day. Like he was burning out of it one electrical current at a time. Things still remained strong within his mind. Little details of Max's desperation and fleeting sanity that had plagued him for so long it they would remain a part of the being that was becoming singularly Electro over time.
Those details of Max Dillon still lingering with Electro were what kept him continually by Harry's side even after the instance where killing the Spider had failed. He hadn't been able to retrieve the blood which Harry so desperately wanted to acquire but he had been able to... Gently coerce Oscorp back into Harry's favor with the agreement that the company was technically under Electro's control as well.
He had say over particular details and if he felt like really speaking beyond a few words a day. He even had the right to argue business related topics with the young Osborn heir himself. Harry got far too invested into his arguments, generally resorting to voice raising so they never really lasted long.
Electro wasn't a talker. He certainly wasn't a yeller. Not unless you pushed him hard enough, which Harry was careful never to cross that line.
That was something of Max Dillon that had faded. The stuttering rambling on and on had burnt out. He spoke forcefully and clearly now. He wanted to say as little as possible and MAKE people understand what he was saying. It was now so simple to achieve and left him with more satisfaction than he could ever imagine.
He was seen with Harry. He was heard with Harry. Even if he was feared with Harry he did not care. It was all good enough.
More than all of that, Harry could truly see him. He'd seen him since the first time they'd met. He considered himself to be Electro now, it wasn't that he didn't have any desire to be Max Dillon it was just that he wasn't. This Electro thought to be an absolute. Harry, however, continually called him just by Max. Even going as far to give him little nicknames, playing around with each syllable depending on his mood to call him by.
But he was never Electro to Harry. He was always Max or some alteration of it.
Harry was the last person on this planet to see 'Max' because no one had ever seen Max before. They'd only ever seen Electro. Max was dead to the rest of the world yet somehow he didn't mind if he wasn't quite dead to the kid who he almost took the job as a body guard toward.
Thus, just as Harry could see him, he could see Harry.
Sometimes he focused on anything but wherever Harry's hand had begun shaking in order to offer a sense of respect toward him while he got himself under control. Other times, he would watch until the tremble had passed. Harry never said anything, he would pick up the pen or whatever he'd been working with at the time and continue on without a word, whether Electro had chosen to watch him or not, and continue working.
By the time Harry had turned twenty-one it had only become increasingly worse. The trembles happened far more often and Harry couldn't catch them quite as quickly as he use to. They were harder to just hide by sticking his hands in his pockets or holding them in his lap when they could return during a handshake or spasm so badly that he would lose the pen he'd been holding previously. The disease had set in quicker in Harry than it had his father and perhaps others before him.
Harry was only calm when he thought he was alone, however. He didn't know he was almost constantly being watched, seen, by the man of electricity himself. That Electro saw when another piece of furniture or set of glasses would need replacing once Harry lost his temper on them. When he bent over his desk in a half sob muttering to no one that he didn't want to die.
Not like that. Not so soon. His father had died before he'd reached his sixties and Harry was due to be picked up by Death's boat before he even reached thirty.
Electro selfishly wondered where that would leave him if Harry died within the next ten years. Where would his purpose be left? Would someone who would take on the company keep him on as a similar roll or would they seek out to have him destroyed as others did before Harry hired him on by his side.
If anyone did would he honestly want to? When others saw them it was with fear and even disgust. When Harry saw him it was with interest and a sense of equality between their standing positions. It wasn't just Max he lost slowly but surely, it was also little pieces of the emotions that counted him as human. Things like sympathy and happiness were so easy to forget how to feel while anger and bitterness were still easily acquired.
The way he existed only the lightning could understand.
Yet seeing Harry diminish into these sickly states still brought up some sort of twinge of these difficult to reach emotions. Perhaps they would never truly fade but stay dormant until something awoke it... Like the beginning of one of Harry's increasingly frequent fits.
At the moment he was seated across the way at his glass desk where he was typing away at its surface some sort of contract he'd passively mentioned earlier. Hands rose from the surface while he blew out an air of air as lids closed slowly in a moment of concentration so it would just pass.
He didn't notice that Electro had moved to his part of the room until he saw the others constantly shimmering reflection in the surface of the table, staring down at him while he sat in his chair, he let out an unconvincing breathy chuckle, like he had no real clue why the man had crossed the room over toward him, “What? You're looking overly intense today.”
The joke was left to die in its place. It usually did anyway with Electro. He seemed to lose his sense of humor along with his fully human form. If the man had ever had one. Harry had never known him as a human anyway. He only knew as much as he could gather before setting Max free from his specially made containment cell.
He recognized that Max's arms were reaching down around the chair but wasn't quite sure of what he was doing.
He felt static right above his hand as the man slipped them right above Harry's, not quite touching but settled right above. The tingle of electricity made Harry tense up for a moment just from the unknown of what Max was really doing. He'd been a trustworthy companion up until this point and hadn't shown any signs of wanting to retreat from such a thing but he'd never been so brash as to approach him this closely.
“Max.” He began shortly, questioning tone in his voice but Max only made a sound that told him to be quiet. The suit the man had been given made it to where one could set a hand on Max where the suit covered him and they would only feel static. That was unless he pushed the electricity beneath the suit forth outward into the area around him. But his hands weren't completely covered by the suit, only his palms but his fingers were completely exposed.
The scientists at the Oscorp lab were still trying to figure out how Max's powers worked but he wasn't entirely compliant to aiding them in research. He didn't want them to figure them out. He wanted everything about his powers to remain his own. He didn't want papers printed about himself outlining how exactly he works. This would be his. No one would be the thief with the secrets of his very person.
Electro's hands slowly settled directly upon Harry's trembling hands, both fixed on the surface of his skin they easily stretched out above the top and over his fingers. Harry's shoulders tensed up for a few moments while the sparks of electricity lept about his skin. It hurt and only burned if it was left there for an extended amount of time.
Even with the pain and sting of the constantly traveling electricity Harry relaxed into it. He felt the tremble of his hands slowly come to a light twitch and Max's hands rose to level just above Harry's skin to avoid any further damage. There were already rising scorch marks on Harry's skin but he didn't stop thinking that it had been the right thing to do.
Harry let out a slow breath that that rivaled itself in both its relief and exasperation. He flexed his fingers back and forth only wincing when he felt the pain from his skin as a result of Electro's touch.
They remained like that for a few long moments. Electro did not make a move a muscle but his constantly static inducing skin made his presence known. Harry would only move ever so often to flex his fingers and watch with rapt attention as the light scorches traveled with them. He didn't know how much time had passed when Electro finally moved going back to his original post.
In all truth, the man had expected only silence from Harry past this. They would return back to their duties as Harry hated facing when he was in pain. He never wanted attention called to it. But Harry's eyes hadn't left him yet.
“Hey... Max.”
This returned Electro's gaze far faster than he would have liked.
Harry had taken a pen into his hand, tapping it into the desk in a rythmic pattern. A gesture of stress. Electro didn't respond, his stare was enough to absolutely know he was cateloguing every word you were saying.
Harry took in a deep breath, his eyes cast away, he obviously had no desire to say this, “Ya know... Thanks... Just... Thanks.”
With that Harry was back to his work at the desk, thinning fingers tapping away at the screens that contained his work, not bothering to retrieve the pen he'd dropped earlier.
Just for a moment he felt that small breakthrough which was Max Dillon still very lightly hovering between the thick glass which separated him from Electro. With the Osborn boy it really could surface ever so often.
“You're welcome...”
“...Harry.”
Just Give It A Shot
Descirption: Takes place within a sideverse where Harry was able to keep his company and befriended Max along the way. Of course being Harry Osborn himself he always has a few suggestions along the way to approve Max's life. At least, Harry thinks so. Which, of course, he is always correct.
Pairing: Max/Harry friendship with a few hints of mutual interest here and there.
Rating: K+
Warnings: There are mentions of a characters psychological disturbance and deluded habits but other than that it's totally clean.
Other: The Amazing Spiderman 2 Movie verse only. This is POSSIBLY going to be in a series of drabbles going to lead up to Electroborn. It all depends.
Sometimes, just sometimes, Harry could be really intimidating.
Alright... It wasn't just sometimes it was most of the time... For a twenty year old kid he could have you frozen in place and yet wanting to get on your knees and ask for forgiveness over whatever it was you did that made him give you that look. Most of the time you just held in place like some scared animal, awaiting in the defensive position until it was done. Usually, the strength of his glare, or really, gaze, was just over something trivial.
He just had a strong look in his eyes that would slowly soften once he left whatever subject he felt a little too strongly about. Or really, just was lost in thought over and you happened to be the subject that his eyes rested upon while you thought. That was honestly the worst part. You never had a single clue where it was going to lead and were left in the dark until he was kind enough, merciful enough, to tell you.
Right now, Max couldn't place together a single clue about what could be making the kid fix his gaze like that. Max continually fussed with but did not drink his own while he was stared at. He was just about ready to ask what he'd done or just excuse himself from Harry's household all together when he FINALLY spoke.
“Ya know, Max...” His tone was surprisingly light for the intensity from before, finally lowering the cup of coffee he'd been looking over while he was lost in thought, “You should really consider shaving your head. You're not fooling anyone with that comb over.”
There it went. Tremble worthy stares over something completely trivial.
Max slid a hand over the top of his subconsciously trying to cover up the balding parts of his head so he didn't have to face the inevitability of age and its decaying results, “I... I don't... I don't know what you're--”
“Oh c'mon Max.” His stammering was interrupted, he'd already been caught in the beginning of a delusion fueled lie and Harry Osborn absolutely never let him get away with those. He stopped him straight in his tracks and called him out on each thing, “You don't gotta put yourself down about it but you're not doing yourself any favors by covering it up!”
Max's hand carefully began lowering from the top of his head now that he was aware of where it had been. He didn't answer to Harry's claims yet, though. He didn't want to. He tried to tell himself Harry didn't know what he was talking about. Yes, he was able to take care of himself quite well but he also had a habit of grooming himself beyond the normal standards. He was beginning to become suspicious the boy did so to the point of putting on cover up in order to hide any acne scarring that came from his teenage years.
Which happened not too long ago he quickly reminded himself. This was something he was feeling the need to remind himself of more and more often nowadays.
“Hey.” Harry nodded upward, calling his attention to him with movement, Max's head moved in one swift movement a sign that Max was already moving to the defensive side, so Harry slowly lowered his voice a bit, something comforting, “Hair grows back, right? Try shaving it off.” He attempted to make it sound more like a suggestion, “You've been getting a pretty good track record of trying out new stuff lately so why not try a new hairstyle.”
Harry sat up from his previous lounging position on the couch and moved to cross his legs, looking equally relaxed, choosing to continue on to fill the silence Max was leaving behind, “Ya know, one of my... Many, many on hand hairstylists.”
He paused for comedic affect and it easily hit its mark, when Harry made fun of himself over his grooming habits it usually broke some of whatever tension had built up.
“She said to try new hairstyles every year. She said that it... Let's see...” His thumb swiped just beneath his nose while he thought, one of those compulsory habits that always seemed to come in hand gestures for Harry, “Ah yes. She said that it brings you a new perspective of self! And thus a new perspective of life.”
He'd changed his tone dramatically when quoting this person, if he was even quoting someone who existed or just making something up on the spot to make his point, once again sliding a bit of amusement in with the awkward subject of Max's self-forced hairstyle. Not even hairstyle, just a cover up.
They both sat laughing quietly, but it couldn't last for long before Max's shoulders tensed up again, he hated being on subjects he'd rather just completely drop and he would if he could, but he was so terrified of any conversation he had going being dropped that it was nearly impossible to just say no, “I... I just don't know... I'm fine with it. I'm fine.”
“Yeah, just fine.” Harry rolled his eyes a bit, leaning back against the arm of the chair on his side of the couch, he set back into thinking mode for only a few moments before the coffee cup was set down on the table just before the couch and hands clasped together in its place, “It's not like you'll be bald if that's what you're so scared of.”
“I'm not scared.” Max interjected swiftly, defensively. This was the point where territories had to be tread VERY carefully and Harry got that by this point.
“Right, right, it was just a little phrasing.” He slid his hands from side to side in the air as if that would help his emphasizing, “There's a difference between being bald and having a shaved head. A shaved head is a hairstyle. Max, I'm gonna go out on a limb here and say you're not a bad looking guy. You've got your but...”
He made a slight hiss noise between his teeth, “What you've got going now... It ain't exactly attracting too many ladies now is it?”
Even when Harry tried to be as light as possible about things he usually ended up becoming fairly blunt at one point or another. And even though it hurt he usually was able to introduce it in just the right way that really knocked you off your pedestal where you'd placed yourself higher and higher above the world in order to escape with those little comfortable lies.
“No... No no I can't... Harry, I just can't...” He had a hard time denying people but when it came to actually doing something right by himself … That's when he became so much more resilient. He'd gone on little... Adventures with Mr. Osborn and done many things that broadened his scope of life and the world itself. It was, of course, easier to do when one had an actual paycheck like Harry did and always insisted on letting him show him 'the delicacies of life' as he once phrased it.
But Harry had never talked about CHANGING his appearance. He made comments on his wardrobe here and there, told him he'd need a suit for certain things, and gave disapproving glances at this or that, it could be hard to tell, but among all the new things Max had been trying as of late, changing his appearance had not been one of them.
“Harry, I.”
“Say no more.” He made a single dismissive gesture, but he didn't look all that disappointed, “I get it. You're not ready. Or, it's just what you want. Whatever you want man it's not my place to talk about. But...”
He wasn't letting it go yet, “If you change your mind and you wanna take me up on my offer just say the word and I'll make it happen.”
“Does it really look that bad...?” Now he was feeling downcast. He didn't need to know his appearance was so unsavory that it needed to be adjusted with such persistence.
“Hey, hey.” Harry scooted over toward the other, closing a lot of the distance that Max was generally the one to set and put a hand over his shoulder, “It's not THAT. Nothing like that, man. I'm just trying to look out for you, alright. That's what friends do.”
When Max began to fall into his own self loathing there were little ways to pick him up... And honestly, easy ways to manipulate him toward believing what you were saying was the correct thing. It was a little cruel at times to use it but Harry tried to keep it to a minimum... But as the owner of a company and raised in the environment he had, in and out of school, he knew you had to play a few dirty tricks to get things to go your way.
Max was almost desperate... Not almost, completely... To hear someone two things.
You're my friend. I need you. Even down to his own name.
He had some sort of loss of place in the world with people that resounded about not being needed. He wasn't quite sure where it specifically came from but he could only guess it had to do with how intelligent Max could be and yet how he went unnoticed and pushed around. Harry couldn't quite put a marker on it.
But the moment one of the above was mentioned, Max was convinced.
“Yes, yes of course that's what they do, of course!” He acted as if he knew every aspect of 'friendship' when his ideas of it were sort of skewed and could even be downright obsessive, delusional, and almost creepy at times without Max even realizing it.
They were working on that...
Max had a lot to catch up on. Harry wasn't exactly an expert of friendship but he definitely knew more than Max...
He knew Max would warm up to the idea within the next week. He'd go home, look at the result of his hair laying in patches over his head and clumsily combed over and he wouldn't be able to stop looking until he would politely suggest that he MAYBE take Harry up on that whole hair thing.
Harry could be patient if he wanted to be.
“But, for now you gotta get out of here. I'm still your boss and I know you've got a couple'a projects you've gotta get done, right?”
“Oh... OH!” Max practically leaped off the couch with unusual agility than normal when any unfinished work was finished, “Oh no I have to go. I have to go right now.” He was in panic mode now, whipping around and muttering about where in the world his bag was.
“Max, Max, chill.” He snickered in his words, “You hung it on the coat wrack by the door, remember? Right when you got in here.”
“Oh...” Max felt those flustered feelings come back upon remembering this, adjusting his glasses as if this would stave off any embarrassment, “Yes, yes, silly me. Of course by the... By the door.”
Harry shook his head while he kept a toothy grin on his face, he gave Max a strong few pats on the back, “I'll walk ya. Just in case you get lost, it's a big place you know!”
He gave Harry a look back at the teasing remarks but followed the shorter man along down to the exist of the living room, “I could rewire this entire household and make a light switch upstairs turn on the garbage disposal downstairs. I am more than certain I could find my way to the door on my own.”
Taking a few steps so that he was walking backward and facing Max he pointed at the man joining in on a few more remarks, “Sounds pretty cool, I'd like to see you try. But. You can't forget you still lost your briefcase in the most OBVIOUS place in the world, Max.”
“Yes...” His tone was still slightly in the play but defeated, “Yes I suppose you're right there.”
Since Harry was a bit up ahead of him he'd swung the briefcase off of the coat hanger and offered it out to him, “That's part of being an Osborn, you know. I always gotta be right.”
Max smiled fondly at the lively boy, surprised by all the energy he could have given... Given the state of health he was in... He pushed the thought out of the way for now, “I think that's more of a Harry thing over an Osborn thing.”
And all he could do was shrug his arms outward, “Alright, yeah you got me there.”
There was a long pause. Those always happened when they were just on the way to saying a farewell to one another. Silence reigned and neither of them really looked at each other just existed in the same space for reasons beyond them to waste so much time.
“Well I will... See you around.” Max began.
“Yes! That, see you around!” Harry practically jumped at his voice, grabbing at the doorknob he swung it open in order to let Max out. He stepped out onto the front entrance as Max made his way out, “Don't forget to think about my offer! I think it could give you a good turn about on that whole 'perspective' thing!”
“I'll think about it!” Max called back. Yes, Harry did look out for the best of him... He ran a hand over his head feeling skin among hair... It really was that noticeable wasn't it? It was in that brief second of pondering that Max had recalled Harry saying he was good looking and the shave could give him a better appearance.
Harry wasn't exactly what you would call 'nice'. If you did he'd probably make some half cracked but offended joke about what being nice was really considered in the world and then finalize on the fact that he wasn't nice. So what was Harry?
Caring? Pitying?
Max had troubles considering anyone who even gave him a single hint of kindness to be someone who wanted to befriend him. But when Harry stuck around and didn't just disappear off the map like he was use to... So utterly use to... He began having troubles figuring out how or why. The more Harry talked him down from things like his dangerously plays of pretend on other people and played him up in other aspects of his life.
That was where he was caught. Was Harry nice or did he just have pity for the invisible man that Max recognized himself to be even more so since having a singular person to speak to. Harry couldn't mean a word of it. He just couldn't.
Not something like that. It was easier to live in a world where you could play pretend with others rather than get to know who they really were. Make real life bonds that were... He shook his head denying himself anymore access to those thoughts. Put a passcode on there just like a computer and he wasn't allowed to make a code for it.
He had to get home. There was a lot of work to be done and a lot of time to be spent obsessively trying to fix his hair to appear in a proper, more appealing, manner