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youre-amazing-say-it · 4 months ago

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The Truth We Unveil

Pairing: Peter Parker x OC, Tony Stark x OC, Bucky Barnes x OC, Steve Rogers x OC, Natasha Romanoff x OC

Warning: Emotional abuse, manipulation, OC;s mother is a bitch, physical violence to OC, Bucky stops OC.s mom with his arm, panic attack, arrest

Word Count: 3.8 k

The drive to Stark Tower was suffocatingly silent, punctuated only by Anne’s barbed pronouncements. "Sit up straight," she snapped, her hand reaching out to adjust Carrie’s collar with a force that belied the simple gesture. "You can't show up looking like a mess." Carrie’s hands twisted in her lap, a knot of anxiety tightening in her stomach. The only solace was the knowledge that Peter would be there. His presence was a balm, a reminder of normalcy in a world constantly tilted on its axis. He’d be her shield, her buffer against her mother's relentless criticism.

“And I expect you to stay quiet,” Anne continued, her voice laced with a saccharine venom. “This isn’t the time for your… interruptions. Or anything dramatic.” The car stopped at a red light, but Anne’s gaze remained fixed on Carrie, a palpable weight that made her shrink in her seat. “Remember,” Anne’s voice dropped to a stage whisper, sharp as a shard of glass, “one wrong move, and we’re leaving. Got it?”

“Yes, Mom,” Carrie murmured, her heart a frantic drum against her ribs. Resignation warred with the fear churning inside her. As the light changed and the car surged forward, Stark Tower loomed larger, a gleaming monolith of all the expectations that awaited her within.

The dining room at Stark Tower was breathtaking. Expansive windows offered a panoramic view of the city lights, while strategically placed lighting cast a warm glow over the scene. Anne, in a figure-hugging black dress, her face meticulously made up, wore a smile that was as bright and brittle as ice. Tony Stark, a whirlwind of charisma, was already engaged in conversation when they entered.

“Mr. Stark,” Anne purred, extending a hand. “Such a lovely invitation.” Tony raised a perfectly sculpted eyebrow, his smile polite but distant. “Please, call me Tony.” Carrie sat quietly beside her mother, the dark green of her dress feeling suddenly too severe. She took a small comfort in the memory of Peter’s earlier compliment. "You look great," he’d whispered, his warm smile a flicker of reassurance in the storm brewing around her.

Dinner began, and Anne, true to form, monopolized the conversation. “The CEO called me personally,” she announced, her diamond bracelet flashing as she gestured. “Said my investment strategy was precisely what Morgan Stanley needed—”

“Speaking of strategy,” Tony interrupted smoothly, turning to Carrie, “I hear you cracked that efficiency problem in the lab. The one everyone said was impossible?” Anne’s carefully constructed smile faltered. “Oh, Carrie just tinkers with her little experiments,” she dismissed airily. “Now, as I was saying about my meeting with the board—”

“Actually,” Carrie ventured, emboldened by a subtle nod of encouragement from Bucky Barnes, who sat across the table, “we found a way to reduce power consumption by integrating a new neural—”

“Sweetie,” Anne’s laugh was brittle, “nobody wants to hear about all that technical jargon. As I was telling the executive team—”

“I do,” Natasha Romanoff interjected, her gaze pinning Anne with laser precision. “It sounds fascinating.”

“Please,” Anne scoffed, examining her perfectly manicured nails. “Let’s discuss something more… sophisticated. Real business, not student projects.”

“The neural interface design,” Carrie pressed on, Bucky's quiet support giving her strength, “if we adjust the response time—”

“Carrie, dear,” Anne’s voice dripped with condescension, “the grown-ups are talking.”

“Actually,” Tony leaned in, his usual playful demeanor replaced by genuine curiosity, “I’d be very interested to hear more about this interface. It could revolutionize how we power the entire tower.”

“Oh, Tony,” Anne sighed dramatically, “you might want to reconsider. Some of us are built for success, and others…” she trailed off, casting a pointedly pitying glance at Carrie, “…well, they’re better off dreaming.”

“Funny thing about reconsidering,” Bucky’s voice dropped to a low, dangerous rumble, the faint whir of his prosthetic arm almost audible, “makes you think about all sorts of things. Like how some mothers—”

“Hey,” Steve Rogers interrupted sharply, shooting Bucky a warning look before turning to Tony with a forced casualness. “Tony, didn’t you mention something about that new training facility? The one with the advanced simulation room?”

The tension in the air crackled, thick and heavy, before Tony caught on. “Right, yes! We’ve incorporated some fascinating new tech…” He launched into a detailed explanation, while Bucky sat back, his jaw tight, a silent storm gathering behind his eyes.

Once the conversation had shifted and dessert was served, Tony straightened his tie and addressed Carrie directly. "You know, Carrie," he said, his voice surprisingly gentle, "I've seen a lot of brilliant minds come through my labs. But what you've done here—finding solutions where everyone else saw dead ends—that's special. That's the kind of thinking we need at Stark Industries." He paused, a genuine smile finally breaking through. "How would you like to join us as our newest intern?"

"YES!" Carrie blurted out, the word escaping before she could stop it. She immediately shrank back in her chair, cheeks burning with a sudden rush of shyness.

Anne's carefully composed facade crumbled. "Absolutely not."

"And why not?" Tony asked, his voice laced with the kind of easy confidence that could unsettle even the most powerful individuals. He leaned back, observing Anne with a detached curiosity, as if she were a particularly perplexing puzzle.

“She’s not prepared. She can barely handle her current coursework,” Anne began, pointedly ignoring Natasha’s quiet scoff. “Her grades aren't perfect—that B+ in French was embarrassing enough. She needs to focus on her regular studies, not waste time with these… experiments.”

"You know, I failed French too," Tony quipped, a trademark smirk playing on his lips. "Didn't stop me from revolutionizing clean energy." But Anne, undeterred, plowed ahead.

"The commute would be impossible. And I need her at home. Someone has to help maintain the house."

"Interesting priorities," Natasha remarked, her smile sharp as a knife. "The house matters more than her future?"

"And she's not emotionally mature enough," Anne continued, her polished veneer beginning to crack. "She's scattered, unfocused, always daydreaming about these ridiculous inventions instead of focusing on practical matters. And her social skills—"

“Like talking over people?” Bucky muttered, the rhythmic tap of his metal fingers against his glass a counterpoint to Anne’s diatribe.

"—need serious work. Really, Tony, she’s just not Stark Industries material."

That was the breaking point. Carrie’s carefully maintained composure shattered, tears silently tracking down her cheeks. Her hands trembled against the pristine white tablecloth, the napkin between her fingers twisting and turning in a silent plea for escape.

Anne didn’t miss a beat. She laughed, a sharp, dismissive sound. "Ugh, always so dramatic," she muttered, taking a deliberate sip of her wine, pinky finger held aloft with practiced elegance. "It's clearly time for us to go."

"No."

The word was barely audible, yet it reverberated through the room like a gunshot. Anne’s hand froze, her crystal wine glass suspended halfway to the table.

"What did you just say?" Her voice dropped to that chillingly quiet tone that Carrie knew all too well.

Carrie's chin lifted slightly, tears still flowing, but a spark of defiance flickered in her eyes. "No, Mom. I… I want to do the internship."

The transformation in Anne was instantaneous and terrifying. Her social mask shattered, revealing the raw, ugly anger beneath. "After everything I've done for you? Everything I've sacrificed?"

"Mrs. Mitchell," Tony interjected, his casual tone a thin veil over the steel in his gaze. "Perhaps we should—"

"No, you don't get to interrupt," Anne snarled, whirling on him before turning back to Carrie. "I've given you everything. EVERYTHING! And this is how you repay me? By embarrassing me in front of everyone?"

"That's enough," Steve's voice, low and resonant, held the unmistakable ring of command.

"You need to listen to me!" Anne's voice rose, edged with hysteria. "I'm the only one who truly knows what's best for you! I'm the only one who's ever cared enough to guide you—"

Natasha’s warning was glacial. “I suggest you stop talking.”

“YOU DON’T TELL ME WHAT TO DO!” Anne shrieked, all pretense of composure gone. “I am her MOTHER! I have sacrificed my entire life for her, and this is the thanks I get? Disobedience? Disrespect?”

It happened in a flash. Anne lunged, her manicured fingers clamping around Carrie’s arm like a vise. The sleeve of Carrie’s blouse rode up, revealing a mottled pattern of yellowing bruises. As Carrie tried to pull away, Anne’s other hand lashed out, nails like polished claws.

“Security,” Tony’s voice sliced through the pandemonium, his hand already reaching for his phone. His other hand gripped the edge of the table, knuckles white. “Conference Room B, now.”

Natasha moved with the fluid grace of a trained assassin, inserting herself between Anne and Carrie. Not fighting, but blocking—a practiced shield against violence. “Let her go,” she commanded, her voice calm but edged with steel.

Steve pushed back from the table, his imposing presence radiating authority. “Mrs. Mitchell,” he said, his tone brooking no argument, “remove your hand from your daughter. Now.”

But Bucky was faster. His movements were precise, controlled—the honed reflexes of a soldier trained to disarm and de-escalate. One hand firmly detached Anne’s grip from Carrie’s arm, while the other guided her back, using her own momentum against her. Anne stumbled, catching herself against the table as wine glasses teetered precariously, one tipping over to spill a crimson stain across the pristine white tablecloth.

“Touch her again,” Bucky said, his voice low and menacing as he positioned himself protectively between mother and daughter, “and assault charges will be the least of your problems.”

Security arrived, their hurried footsteps echoing in the hallway, but Carrie was oblivious. A wave of familiar panic washed over her, constricting her chest, stealing her breath. Her chair clattered against the floor as she stumbled back, someone’s voice calling her name a distant echo in the roaring in her ears. The instinct to flee overwhelmed her.

She ran, the sleek, futuristic corridors of Stark Tower a blur. Spotting a conference room with its door slightly ajar, she slipped inside, instinctively seeking the furthest corner, her back pressed hard against the cool wall – a reflex honed by years of trying to disappear. Breath hitched in her throat; coherent thought was impossible. Her mother’s venomous whispers echoed in her mind: ungrateful, embarrassing, disappointment.

The soft click of the automatic lock was a small, hollow sound in the sudden silence. A calm, disembodied voice, the tower’s AI, resonated from the intercom. “The room is secured, Miss Mitchell. Security has been notified.”

“Don’t—” Carrie choked out, the words fractured by ragged gasps as she slid down the wall, collapsing onto the floor. “Don’t let her in. Please.”

“Your mother is being detained by security,” the AI assured her. “Would you like me to—”

The AI’s voice faded into the white noise of her panic. Her chest ached, a crushing weight. The fluorescent lights pulsed, too bright, too sharp. Curled into a tight ball, forehead pressed against her knees, she sought the same desperate comfort she used to find hiding in her closet at home, a child seeking refuge from a storm she couldn’t understand. The phantom pressure of her mother’s grip lingered on her arm, a burning reminder of the bruises blooming beneath her skin.

A soft rapping at the door cut through the suffocating fear. "Carrie?" Bucky's voice, low and steady, was a lifeline in the roaring chaos of her mind. Gone was the sharp edge she'd heard moments before, replaced by a quiet understanding that resonated deep within her. "I know what it's like," he murmured, his voice barely audible through the thick door. "The panic. The tightness in your chest. The way the world shrinks down to nothing but the fear." A pause, heavy with unspoken shared experience. "I used to get them too. Still do, sometimes."

The faint shuffle of his weight shifting against the door was oddly comforting. "You don't have to talk," he continued, his voice a grounding presence. "Don't have to do anything. Just breathe, okay? Listen to my voice. In through your nose, out through your mouth. Slow it down. Nobody's coming in here unless you want them to. You're safe now."

The silence that followed was filled only by the erratic rhythm of Carrie's breathing, gradually slowing, evening out under the calming influence of Bucky’s words. As the terror began to recede, leaving a bone-deep exhaustion in its wake, a fragile thread of voice returned.

"Bucky?" she whispered, the sound thin and reedy. "Can you… can you come in?"

A beat of hesitation. "You sure, kid?"

"Yeah." Her voice cracked, the single syllable thick with unshed tears. "I just… I don't want to be alone."

The door clicked open, and Bucky slipped into the room, moving with a quiet grace that belied his imposing frame. He settled against the wall a few feet away, close enough to offer comfort, far enough to respect her space. The gentle clink of metal against the wall, the steady rise and fall of his chest as he breathed, were tangible anchors in the swirling disorientation of her fear.

"Will you be honest with me?" Carrie askedher fingers nervously twisting the hem of her sleeve, her gaze fixed on the intricate pattern of the carpet. "Like, brutally honest? No sugar-coating, ?"

A faint, almost imperceptible smile touched Bucky's lips. "Sugar-coating's never been my forte, kid."

"What's happening with my mom?" she finally asked, the words barely a breath.

Bucky shifted, the fluorescent lights glinting off his metal arm. "Right now? She's in conference room B with two security guards and Natasha. Tony's lawyers are already drafting paperwork – restraining order, assault charges, child abuse. Steve's making a call to CPS." He paused, his gaze searching hers, gauging her reaction. "She's gone, Carrie. For good."

Carrie wrapped her arms tighter around her knees, a flicker of disbelief in her eyes. "She'll find a way. She always does."

"Not this time.unwavering. "Your mom's used to being the biggest monster in your world. But tonight?" A dry, humorless laugh escaped him. "Tonight, she's up against Tony Stark's legal team, Natasha Romanoff's evidence gathering, and Steve Rogers' 'deeply disappointed dad' stare. And that's not even factoring in what I'll do if she comes within a hundred yards of you again" Bucky's voice was quiet but ."

A soft chuckle escaped Carrie's lips, a fragile sound that quickly faded into a quiet contemplation. "Did you… did you guys plan this? Tonight?"

Bucky ran a hand through his hair, a weary sigh escaping his lips. "Not exactly. Tony invited you both because of your work, your neural interface. But… we had our suspicions. We were watching, waiting for the right moment." He hesitated, then cleared his throat. "Can I ask you something now?"

Carrie nodded silently, her gaze still fixed on the floor.

"Are you still mad at Peter?"

Carrie stiffened, her body tensing. "For reporting on my mom?"

"For being a friend," Bucky corrected gently. "For caring enough to say something when he saw the bruises you tried to hide in the lab."

Carrie's fingers traced patterns on the carpet, her silence heavy with unspoken emotions. "He should have talked to me first."

"Would you have listened?" When she didn't answer, Bucky continued, his voice soft but firm. "Carrie, he saw you come into the lab day after day with bruises you tried to cover up. He saw you flinch when people moved too quickly. He heard the way you talked about your mother – or didn't talk about her. He knew something was wrong, and he couldn't just stand by and do nothing."

"I didn't know what to do," she whispered, her voice barely audible.

"No, you didn't," Bucky agreed, his voice filled with a quiet understanding. "Because that's what abuse does. It isolates you. Makes you keep secrets. Makes you protect the person who's hurting you." He exhaled slowly. "Peter broke that cycle, Carrie. Not because he wanted to hurt you, but because he couldn't bear to watch someone he cared about suffer anymore."

"I…" Carrie's voice wavered. "I told him I hated him."

"He called himself worse," Bucky admitted softly. "But he'd do it again in a heartbeat. Because that's what real friends do. They save you, even when you don't want to be saved, even when you push them away."

Carrie hugged her knees tighter, burying her face. "What happens now? With school… everything? Mom paid the tuition…" Her voice trailed off, the unspoken question hanging heavy in the air.

The revealing Tony Stark, remarkably composed considering the recent upheaval. "About that," he began, hands casually tucked in his pockets, an air of effortless nonchalance radiating from him. "Did I forget to mention the internship comes with a suite? Right here in the tower. Oh, and full educational coverage – high school, college, probably a few PhDs if you’re inclined. Which, judging by your work, you should be.”door swung open,

Carrie stared, speechless, her mouth slightly agape.

"What?" Tony cocked an eyebrow, a hint of amusement in his eyes. "You thought I'd let the mind behind that neural interface breakthrough scramble for tuition money? Please. I'm investing in the future. Yours, specifically."

"But…" Carrie stammered, her voice trembling. "You don't have to—"

Tony's demeanor softened, the playful facade momentarily dropping as he crouched down to meet her gaze. "Kid, let me tell you something. When I was your age, I had every resource imaginable, but no one truly in my corner. And look how I turned out." A self-deprecating smile played on his lips. "Imagine what someone like you could do with both."

"I don't want charity," she whispered, her gaze fixed on the carpet.

"Charity?" Tony chuckled, a genuine laugh escaping him. "Have you seen the schematics for your neural interface? That's not charity, that's pure self-interest. I want that brain working for Stark Industries for the next thirty years, minimum. The housing and education? That's just smart business." His expression turned serious. "But even if it wasn't – even if your work wasn't groundbreaking, which it is – you'd still have a place here. Because that’s what family does."

"Family?" Carrie echoed, the word catching in her throat.

Tony shifted uncomfortably, scratching the back of his neck. "Yeah, well," he mumbled, clearly not used to such earnest pronouncements. "Consider yourself stuck with us now. Me, Terminator over there," he gestured towards Bucky, "the whole circus. Speaking of which, Peter's probably worn a hole in the floor pacing, waiting to see you. Want me to send him in? Kid's been rehearsing his apology speech for weeks."

A genuine smile, the first of the evening, flickered across Carrie’s face. "He has?"

"Oh yeah," Tony grinned, rising to his feet. "Highly dramatic. Lots of 'I'm sorry' and 'please don't hate me' and 'I'll let you win at Mario Kart forever.'" He brushed imaginary dust off his pants. "So, what do you say? Ready to give the kid a break? See your new suite? Pepper might have gone a little overboard with the lab equipment, but honestly, who am I to judge?"

Peter’s entrance was tentative, a stark contrast to his usual exuberant energy. He hovered near the doorway, nervously fidgeting with the hem of his shirt. "Hey," he murmured softly.

"Hey," Carrie replied, her voice equally subdued.

A charged silence hung between them, broken only when they both spoke at once.

"I'm so sorry—" "I didn't mean—"

They stopped abruptly, and for the first time that night, Carrie laughed, a genuine, unforced sound. Peter’s shoulders visibly relaxed.

"You first," he offered, sliding down to sit cross-legged near her.

"I didn't mean it," Carrie began, her voice thick with emotion. "When I said I hated you. I was just…"

"Scared?" Peter finished for her, his voice gentle. "Yeah, I know. Me too." He paused, his gaze falling to his hands. "I almost didn't say anything. But then… I saw that bruise on your arm last week, and I just… I couldn't…" His hands clenched in his lap.

"Thank you," Carrie whispered, her voice barely audible. "For not listening to me."

Peter's head snapped up, surprise evident in his eyes. A slow smile spread across his face. "So… we're okay?"

"Yeah," Carrie replied, a wobbly smile gracing her lips. "We're okay."

"Good," Natasha’s voice interjected from the doorway, startling them both. She entered the room with her usual fluid grace, leaning casually against a desk. "Because starting Monday, you're both training with me."

"Training?" Carrie asked, a note of apprehension in her voice.

"Self-defense," Natasha clarified. "Basic stuff. How to break a hold, how to fall safely, how to get away if someone grabs you." Her voice softened. "How to never feel helpless again."

"I…" Carrie hesitated. "I don't know if I can—"

"You can," Natasha stated firmly. "And you will. Three times a week, after school. Peter's already in the class."

"She's actually a really good teacher," Peter chimed in. "Like, terrifyingly good."

A ghost of a smile touched Natasha’s lips. "I'll take that as a compliment." She turned back to Carrie. "You don't have to decide right now. The offer's there when you're ready."

Carrie nodded slowly. "Can I… think about it?"

"Of course." Natasha pushed off from the desk. "For now, maybe you'd like to see your new room? Tony's practically vibrating with excitement to show you the lab setup."

"It's insane," Peter grinned, his usual enthusiasm returning. "Seriously insane. He put in one of those holo-projection tables and a whole robotics station—"

As Peter continued to excitedly describe the room, a hesitant sense of possibility began to bloom within Carrie. The fear hadn't vanished entirely—it lingered like a shadow, a reminder of the darkness she’d just escaped. But amidst the fear, a tiny spark of hope ignited. This wasn't healing, not yet. It was more like the first, unsteady step on a long, unfamiliar path. A path that might, just might, lead somewhere better.

Pushing herself up, surprised by the sudden strength in her legs, Carrie met Peter’s gaze. “Hey, Peter?” The words caught in her throat, a mix of nerves and newfound courage warring within her. “I… I haven’t given up on that neural interface design,” she finally managed, her voice still a little shaky. “I actually have a few new ideas.”

A flicker of uncertainty crossed Peter’s face, quickly replaced by a hopeful smile. “Really?”

“Yeah,” Carrie replied, a small, genuine smile gracing her lips, a glimmer of her old self resurfacing. “Think you could help me test them out sometime?”

Peter’s face broke into a wide grin. “Only if I get to name the first successful prototype,” he teased, his usual playful banter returning.

Carrie laughed, a genuine, unforced sound that echoed in the quiet room, chasing away the last vestiges of the fear. “Deal,” she agreed, a sense of anticipation, fragile yet real, taking root in her heart. Maybe, just maybe, this new beginning wouldn't be so terrifying after all.

#avengers x reader #avengers x teen!reader #peter parker x reader #peter parker x teen!reader #tony stark x reader #tony stark x teen!reader #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x teen!reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x teen!reader #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff x teen!reader

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winterspiderpurrs · 2 months ago

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In Vitro

Parker luck was at it again. After years of bad dates, breakups and just not lucky in love. Peter meets Tony Stark.

He accidentally ran into him when he was dropping off lunch for his Aunt at the hospital.

" Oh my gosh! I am SO sorry sir. I... your...Tony Stark? "

After Peter apologized a few more times, he offers to replace the coffee that he accidentally knocked out of Tony's hands when they collided. He didn't expect him to accept.

Tony apparently, had heard his speech about his research proposal a few months back; at that time. While Stark Industries doesn't do much in the way of the medical field. 'Not in my wheel house and not wanting to step on toes', a comment that Peter didn't quiet get. He was interested to know if anyone has offered him a grant or had taken him on.

While people loved his idea, when they hear it from a 22 year old Omega. Well. People tend to brush it off. So Peter had only gotten a job recently at the hospital where they had run into each other. A receptionist job, Aunt May(Beta) was able to pull a few strings.

After that, they started to met up at coffee shops, then inviting Peter to the lab to see what other ' ideas are tinkering around in there'. Tony didn't CARE that he was an Omega, he valued his brain, and if he didn't have a crush on him before, he definitely did after that.

With in a few weeks, Tony asked Peter to dinner. And the rest would be history. Except, when Peter asked about them seeing if they should live together after about a year of dating. With Tony's busy schedule, it would be easier, Tony like that idea, but said he wanted to be slightly traditional.

"Let's do things the proper way Gioia Mia, lets get engaged first. And then once we are finally bonded, we can get our own place or move to my family home upstate"

In a society where Omega's are almost 2nd class citizens. When an 'Engagement' happens, the Omega must go in for testing. As it isn't FAIR to the Alpha to possibly be stuck with someone who cannot carry.

And THAT, is where the Parker Luck comes in. Just when Peter thinks he can FINALLY have it all. Well. The test results are in. They didn't say he COULDN'T have kids, just that he would have a very hard time getting there. And they recommend treatment.

" Don't worry Tesoro. Stephen will know how to fix this. Bastard is good at what he does, going to gloat probably, and we will make sure you can have the pups for us."

"I'm so sorry Tony...if you don't want to.. to see me anymore. I ... I can understand"

"Hey hey... its not your fault. Dry your tears. Your still Perfect Peter. Knew it the moment we spoke. This is just a bump in the road. We will make sure your ready when the time comes."

Phone rings.

"Dr. Stephen Strange's office, this is Mindy, how can I assist you today."

" Hey Mandy, can you patch me in to Stephen"

"Of course Mr. Stark! Right away, please hold while I transfer"

Click, stale music.

" This is Dr. Strange"

"Stephen, looks like we will be needing you expertise"

Stephen sighs could be heard from over the line.

" Of course you do. This the road your really want to go down now? Won't some.... other Omega do?"

"No no. Peter is it Stephen. We HAVE to make this work. You'll see once you meet him. Please as a favor to me. You know I don't like asking for favors. "

"Fine. I'll help"

"Grazie cuore mio"

"Your insufferable"

********************************************************************

Talked to @professional-benaddict about this idea after they got the ask and we decided we were inspired! And to take it on a wild spin of our own creation.

Link below of the original ask and response! ( which is quiet delish)

https://www.tumblr.com/professional-benaddict/781460953688686592/would-you-ever-consider-writing-ivf-into-a-blurb?source=share

#Gioia mia (“My joy”)#writing prompt #rafni giving us ideas and we going wild #starker #tw: infertility #ivf treatment #omegaverse #tony stark x peter parker #ironspider #omega peter parker #alpha tony stark

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missuscupid · 2 months ago

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content warnings: dbf!john price, hand jobs, f!reader, use of the term good girl, riding, a little bit obsessed!john, unmentioned age gap (reader is in their 20s, john late 40s)

part one.

18+ minors do not interact

john knew how independent you wanted to be since your return home- but there were a few things his new little love couldn’t quite handle. and how was he supposed to be a good neighbor if he let his best friends daughter struggle? even as he listened to your dad tell stories about how you were trying to find yourself a place or going out with your old friends, all john could think about was finding a way back in.

so it started with the car trouble. a whole afternoon of car trouble with john bent over the hood of your old beater in your dads empty garage, just looking to catch a glimpse of you. he should’ve been thinking about the oil leaking but even that couldn’t deter the dirty thoughts that bled in, thinking about you pressed up against the wall of a dingy bathroom stall days ago. the last time he got a taste of you because you seemed so adamant on avoiding him.

and that just wouldn’t do.

so after fixing that rattling in your engine and the leak of oil, john had to find other reasons to stick around. suddenly he was more interested in football games and tinkering on whatever project your dad was spending the afternoon working on.

if you wanted to be stubborn, ignoring a man in front of you that was growing obsessed, john could be patient. he was a captain for godsake. he didn’t get far on ambushing without a little patience to learn.

but none of his targets during his time with 141 looked this tempting. tiny shorts tucked under a large t-shirt covered by the logo of your favorite football team. braless with nipples that poked through the well loved fabric. you were staring at him and he was staring back just not at your eyes. john’s hand flexed around the coffee cup he was holding.

“morning love,” john spoke, finally lifting his eyes from the staring contest with your chest.

you offered a soft, “morning mr. price.”

mr. price so respectable. so sweet. so nice compared to the whine of john on his cock. you stepped around him, the waft of sweet perfume falling over him. he didn’t turn, listening to the soft sound of footsteps across the kitchen to the utility room off the side of the house. john leaned back in his chair, watching shamelessly with the way your body bent over the top load washer. shirt sliding up, smooth skin exposed to be grabbed. he needed to get his hand on you before he snapped. or get out of this house.

john stood from the table, chair scraping as he slid from the table. his heavy footsteps echoed as he slipped out the back door to the patio table where his half finished cigar sat. he plucked the lighter from the table, lighting his cigar and dragging in a deep inhale of smoke.

john was a patient man but nobody said he was good at not letting the temptations slip into his thoughts. it was like every night he was slipping his hands down his pants to stroke at the thought of his best friends not so innocent daughter looking at him. how good she felt squeezed around his cock.

minutes ticked by before the door opened and you stepped out again. “is my dad here?”

“had to get a part before we started on the master bedroom.” john shook his head.

you hummed, nodding slightly before stepping over. the smell of cigar smoke lingered but you didn’t seem to mind as you stood in front of john. he spread his thick thighs, accommodating your sudden movement to press in between them. without a word, his free hand slid up your thigh, teasing the lingering warmth from your bed.

“i didn’t have the chance to properly thank you, mr. price.” your voice dropped low, dragging john’s eyes to yours. “for fixing up my car and helping unload all those boxes.”

john swallowed thickly, “no need to thank me love.”

but that didn’t deter you, sliding to your knees on the pavement of your fathers patio. an innocent blink of your eyelashes as you slid your fingers up his thigh to pop the button of his jeans. he was already growing hard, bulge straining underneath denim and boxer shorts.

a soft groan slipped from his lips as your delicate fingers wrapped around his cock, stroking him until he was hard. john’s cigar dangled in his finger tips, smoke curling over his thick fingers into the air as he watched with half lidded eyes as your hand moved up and down the thick of his cock. your eyes were glued to him, pupils blown wide with want. each stroke of your fingers around his cock was enough to have him dragging his hips upward into your palm but you were slow, almost teasing each movement.

john snubbed out his cigar on the ashtray, pushing it aside and wrapping his hand around the back of your neck. he tugged you from between his legs, pulling you towards his lap with a swift tug. john crashed his lips into yours, the mingle of mint toothpaste and his cigar swapping on your tongue.

it was a hurried kiss, teeth and tongues battling against each other while john tugged you down to his lap. you moved with him, legs straddling over him in the flimsier chair on the patio. you sat on his knees, legs spread to accommodate for his cock slotted against your clothed pussy. with a shift of your body forward, john could feel the warmth and wetness against his cock.

“what do you want love?” the words felt heavy, thick with want and demand from his throat.

“you,” his thumbs dug against your hip, dragging you impossibly closer. your pussy rubbed up against his hard cock, desperately looking for any friction. “please john-”

john gripped your hips harder, a soft tsk of his lips. “ah, no, no i’m not john- remember love.”

his fingers slid to the top of your shorts, sliding them down slowly until you lifted your hips to slide out of them. it was an awkward movement but when he settled you back down, your bare pussy dragged up the denim of his thighs. john pulled you forward, hovering your pussy over his cock.

“mr. price-“ he groaned softly at your words, “please”

“if you’re so independent now, work for it angel.”

you sank down fast, a soft whine slipping from your lips as you dragged yourself up and down on his cock. john didn’t move, didn’t even speak as you desperately bounced up and down on his cock. he watched with an amused glint in his eyes as you desperately used him for your pleasure. each soft moan another temptation daring him to push just a little further.

“good girl,” john groaned, eyes trained on your lips. he slid his hands from your hips, pushing up the large t-shirt you were wearing. his fingers traced around your nipples, pinching to see the way you reacted. “doing so good for me angel.”

your pussy clenched, whining at the stimulation of his rough hands sliding over your nipples. your head fell back, eyes squeezed shut as his thick cock stretched your walls. all warmth and slick juices of your pussy pooling on his thighs, the denim dark with the need that slipped between you two.

“mm close.” you whimpered, hips still moving unsteadily on his lap.

john gripped your hip again with one large hand. he quickly started jerking upwards, pushing himself into you with a furious pace as your thighs trembled. orgasm crashed over you, curling your body back into his with a soft cry. john tugged you close, his own orgasm shooting deep into your pussy, a mix of cum pooling between your thighs.

john held you on his lap, fingers pressing little bruises into your hips. in the haze of orgasm, you two barely caught the sound of squeaky breaks pulling in the drive. with unsteady legs, you were up off his lap and shimmying those shorts up your legs while john tucked himself back to his jeans. you made your quick exit, gripping the glass door once more to peak back at him.

“thanks again mr. price,” you smirked knowingly before dipping into the house.

he was in trouble; he knew it as soon as he saw that glint in your eyes. so much for patience- you wanted him just as bad.

#john price #cupid writes #cupid still has daddy issues #john price smut

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terrestrialnoob · 1 year ago

Text

Robert Hawkins sat at the kitchen table, cutting out a news story for the slowly growing binder beside him. The headline read "Local Heroes Static and Gear Team Up with Two New Friends to Defeat Concrete Menace". Just as he got the cutout safely into a sleeve, he heard the front door open.

"Anybody home?" Virgil's voice called.

"In the kitchen."

Soon enough, Virgil was there with two people following behind him that Robert didn't recognize, but could guess the identities of. One was a little shorter than Virgil, a white boy with black hair and blue eyes who looked dead on his feet and desperate to cover that fact. He had the jumpy nervousness of a kid scared of any and all adults. The other was a little taller than Virgil, tan skin, black hair, and sharp green eyes. He looked at everything around him with disinterest, but Robert felt the boy was astounded by how mundane the home was.

"Sharon home?" His son asked.

"She's out with friends." He answered honestly.

"Cool," Virgil said, and then to the horror of the white kid, "This is Danny and Damian, they're some superhero friends of mine."

"You're dad knows?" Danny asked, his hand moving as if to grab Virgil and pull him away - a protective gesture, not meant to offend.

"Not everyone has villain parents, Fenton." Damian said, then stepped forward and almost too respectfully addressed Robert with a small bow. "It is a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Hawkins."

"Ye- yeah." Danny feebly agreed.

"Don't worry, my pops is cool with heroes and all that." Virgil reassured then explained, "They're going to hang out here for a little while, Richie kinda wrecked the station when his tinkering got out of hand."

"I told him not to plug the ecto-battery directly into anything he didn't want coming to life." Danny commented.

"So, we're just going to hang out while he fixes that, then we'll get back to work."

Robert nodded and smiled, "Don't push yourselves too hard, take all the rest you need. That goes for Richie too."

Virgil beamed at him, "Thanks Pops! we'll be upstairs."

"Let me know if you need anything," Robert called as his son and his new friends left. He pulled out his phone and looked up what kind of heroes he just let in his home and try to find those parents he was going to have words with should they ever meet.

#dpxdc #danny phantom #dc static #dc robin #robert hawkins #virgil hawkins #danny fenton #damian wayne #fic prompt #dcxdp #dp x dc prompt #dp x dc crossover #fic idea #I would love for these three to exist in the same space #I want Damian and Virgil to be friends #and I'm just danny phantom brained so he's there too #static shock #my fic #my writing

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the-fiction-witch · 11 months ago

Text

Little Lamb

Media - The Artful Dodger Character - Jack Dawkins Couple - Jack X Reader Reader - Miss Y/n Y/l/n Rating - 18 (Blood / Gore / Nudity) Word Count - 2609

Jack was working late in the morgue everyone else in the small hospital already fast asleep, but he tinkered away under the electric lights in the hospital basement practicing a new surgical technique on a fresh cadaver. Every so often checking his book and struggling with the swirling words to understand what he was meant to be doing.

However, the silence soon came to a end as he heard footsteps. Jack's eyes shot up from his book to the entrance of the morgue he’d left the doors open as he never lived being shut in here so late, he was concerned for a moment but soon realised it was just Y/n. Jack had a lot of affection for Y/n, he would very nearly say he loved her, she was a nurse in the hospital and the two spent an awful lot of time together. He wanted to make her his wife but… the rules and social etiquette of Victorian dating were something Jack didn’t understand and frankly couldn’t be bothered to learn,

Jack let out a sigh of relief. "Don't sneak up on me like that."

Y/n stood in the doorway in her little silk nightgown her curls loose around her, clearly she'd been in bed. But she carried a book in hand, "I didn't mean to spook you, Jack,"

Jack’s eyes wandered her body for a moment before focusing again. "What are you doing down here? You should be asleep."

"I had a question" She hurried inside shutting the door softly,

Jack turned his body more to her. "A question? You do know it's the middle of the night, right?"

"Well you’re awake, I'm awake. And I have questions" she shurgged opening her book and flicking through her various notes,

Jack let out a soft groan, but didn't protest. "Alright, go ahead."

"... Mr Clarke in bed seven. We've been dosing him on morphie and noticing his shaking and trembling hasn't stopped I pondered... Did we ask if he smoked?"

Jack sat there for a moment, processing. He mentally slapped himself for forgetting to ask such an important question the last time he spoke to the patient. "No, we didn't ask."

"Could that not be why he's trembling given he hasn't been allowed or able to smoke for the last four days?"

Jack leaned against the table, and let out a sigh. "That's... very much possible. Good point. I can't believe I forgot to ask. Bloody hell.” Jack looked at her again, “Is this what you do at night?”

“How so?”

“Just lay in bed with your note book thinking about patients?”

“... Yes,” She nodded, “why? What do you do in bed?”

“Sleep,” He answered,

“I mean like before you fall asleep,”

“...Drink. Or gamble.” he explained, “Or… think about you,” He suggested trying to give her waist a playful tickle but she elbowed his stomach before he even got close,

“Hands to yourself Doctor Dawkins,”

"So... why such... little clothing?" he smirked,

"I thought I was asking you questions not the other way around?"

He chuckled, “I’m curious,”

"what's wrong with it?"

He was quiet for a moment, his eyes wandering her body again. "Nothing at all. Just very... revealing."

"it's Australia. Its summer. Our bedrooms are both in the attic. Oddly enough I'm hot." She explained, "Besides why is what I wear to bed any of your business."

A smirk formed on his face, as he jokingly said, "Never said I didn't like it. Besides… it’s nice to know what you wear to bed, I can better imagine you now.”

she rolled her eyes "Anyway... I've been considering Mrs gains I don't think she actually has muscle pain... I think she has hysteria"

He raised an eyebrow. "Hysteria? Why do you think that?"

"... She complains about every... Three weeks or so coincidentally the time her husband goes out of town for business, complaining about muscle pain in her upper thigh, and every time we send either you or sneed over to give her a thigh massage that seems to fix it. I don't think she actually has anything wrong with her... Just wants a man to touch her while her husband's away"

It took Jack a moment to process everything that she'd said and then he let out a sigh and ran his hand over his face. "So... Mrs Gains only complains about muscle pain in her thigh every three weeks. Coincidentally the time her husband goes out of town... she complains about it to us so we send over me or Snead to give her a 'thigh massage' and then suddenly it's all fixed as soon as her husband arrives home again.. correct?"

"exactly, does that not seem suspicious to you?"

Jack stood there for a moment, thinking. It did sound rather suspicious, "I suppose but... she's married. Surely she wouldn't cheat on her husband. Right?"

"I don't think she wants to cheat on her husband I think she just likes having you boys massage he upper thigh"

Jack let out a sigh, "Bloody hell.. I've been spending hours just massaging her thigh while her husband is away for work? Christ."

"yeah exactly" she Nodded

Jack groaned again and rubbed his eyes, before looking at Y/n again "How'd you even come up with the idea she might have hysteria anyway?"

"... When you break it down that's all female hysteria is jack, it's women fainting and faking for attention so doctors go over and make them feel better"

Jack sat silently processing. "That's a dark way to think about it but... I suppose you're right. I think you may be right."

"of course I'm right" she smiled shutting her book "That's all, that's what was swimming in my noggin before bedtime."

A soft laugh escaped. He stood close, now towering over her. "Right. Well.. do you mind if I ask another question myself now?"

"... Fine" she sighed

Jack leaned down closer to her "Do you wear clothing like this every night? Or just for me?"

"every night... Why?"

Jack shrugged but had a small smirk on his face and leaned even closer, so close that their bodies were almost touching. "No reason in particular. Was just thinking that I'd like to see you wearing this more often, it's very pleasing to the eye."

she scoffed "Whatever would people think they saw me wondering around the hospital in my nightie let spending time in said nightie alone with a bachelor such as yourself" She used her proper lady tone

Jack chuckled softly and whispered in her ear, "Oh I'm sure we both know nobody would have a problem with the two of us spending time together in here alone."

she glared "You know full well if my father found out you were alone with me he would come down here pack my things and march me home. After beating you with his cane to a bloody plump"

Jack sighed and leaned back slightly, having a grimace on his face. "And don't remind me how much I bloody hate your father. Honestly, he has no good reason to hate me."

"... Doesn't he? You are often alone and make lewd remarks towards his only unmarried daughter."

Jack let out a small 'pfft,' and chuckled "I think 'often' is.. a stretch. Besides, how is flirting with his daughter a reasonable reason for him to hate me?"

"If you had a daughter and found out some boy was flirting with her you wouldn't be angry?"

Jack sighed and rubbed his face again, contemplating an answer. A few moments of silence later, he responded. "I understand it'd be... worrying. But why anger? You're not a child anymore, you're an adult, You can defend yourself and know what's appropriate and not appropriate. So why shouldn't you flirt with the opposite gender if you please? Namely me."

"because that's not how society works jack."

Jack scoffed and rolled his eyes. "Bloody society. So because society says it's not okay for two people to flirt, it's not okay for a man to give a compliment to a woman. Makes perfect sense."

"I didn't make these etiquette rules."

Jack sighed, and slowly wrapped his arms around her waist. "I know that. But that doesn't mean it's reasonable to follow these bloody etiquette rules."

she rolled her eyes resting her hands on his, "I am an unmarried young lady and you are a bachelor. Like it or not there are rules we have to follow. We get away with alot more because your a doctor and I'm a nurse we have excuses to be alone together. If we weren't if you wanted time alone with me you'd have to court me like everyone else."

Jack chuckled at first before rolling his eyes. "Court you? That's a damn joke. You know damn well I won't court you just to be able to spend time alone with you. Besides, if I went and courted you, I'd have to meet with your bloody father, and I'm not exactly in any rush to see that old bastard again."

"...he'd let you, you know." She said quietly

Jack raised an eyebrow, surprised by her answer. "Would he now? The ol' prick would truly give me permission to court you?"

"he's told me before. He'd give you permission if you actually went about properly"

Jack fell silent for a moment, contemplating what she'd said. "... And what exactly would going about it "properly" require me to do?"

"To bathe. Get dressed up in your best shirt. Come to the house. Perhaps bring gifts for my family. Sit down to dinner. Then ask my father for permission to court me."

Jack groaned and rubbed nose against her neck as he imagined the scenario she was describing. He groaned again and rested his forehead against her shoulder. "Good god... that sounds like absolutely torture." He stayed rested against her for a long moment, not saying anything. After what felt like forever, he lifted his head up. "... Say I did go through all that. The bathing, the best clothes, the family dinner and all that bullshit... would you actually say yes?"

"... Not my choice. Father will decide if you can have permission then you'd have to ask me and then go about the courting"

Jack groaned again, "How many damn steps are in this courting situation anyway?"

"... Well asking for permission, asking the lady, first stage of courting where your chaperoned, second stage where you’re unchaperoned, balls and formal events, then engagement."

Jack groaned again, "Christ... that sounds... bloody exhausting."

"oh it is."

"And this is all because society says two grown adults can't spend time alone without being bloody chaperoned?"

"Yep." She nodded "I mean... You could try your luck do all the same things and just ask father for my hand. It's more a risk but if he agrees you jump straight to engagement "

Jack lifted his head back up and raised an eyebrow. "And what exactly is the likelihood of him agreeing? Because if I'm going through all this bullshit I'd like to know if it's pointless or not.."

"... Agreeing to court, I'd say 70% leaving room for potential social issues. Asking for my hand... 50%... If you catch him on a good day... And maybe wait till he's a few whiskeys deep"

Jack chuckled softly. He was surprised to hear those odds. "Damn. That's a surprisingly high chance. I'd assumed it'd be in the 10% range."

"as I said. He's told me before if you were to go about it properly her happily allow it"

Jack let out another long sigh. "Alright. I'm... slightly considering this now. Very, very, slightly considering this."

"you do realize either way we'd have to get married?"

Jack went silent, staring at the ground to the side while he processed that. A few moments later he spoke in a quiet voice. "Y-Yeah... I'm very much aware of that…” He went silent again, thinking. It was hard enough for him to actually imagine himself getting married, but… for y/n. A frown formed on his face as he spoke again. "Bloody hell... your father as my father-in-law..."

she chuckled "You'd only have to see him like once a year"

Jack groaned again. "One too many times if you ask me. Honestly, I can't stand the thought of being in the same room as that old bastard." Jack went silent for another moment, staring at the floor. But after that moment, he let out a long sigh and spoke up again. ".. But I suppose having to deal with him once a year would be... bearable.. if it meant being married to you"

"hum... Getting to see under my nightie really worth that much to you? That you'd go though all the chaos of courting, marrying me, and dealing with my father for the rest of your life?"

Jack couldn't help but chuckle a tiny bit. "Trust me, seeing under your nightie is only a part of the reason I'm considering this. Getting to marry you is the major reason." he pressed a gentle kiss to her cheek, "Besides... I would rather marry the woman I love, even if I have to deal with her father being a pain in my ass for the rest of my life"

"or you could just go down the pub and pay a lady a few pounds to see under her dress and just remain a bachelor forever?"

Jack chuckled again and slowly leaned even closer to her. "Ah, but there's only one little problem with that idea. I'm in love with bloody you, not some random pub girl."

she chuckled "Well, you know your options, now can I get to bed or you just going to keep me down in the morgue with you all night?"

Jack let out a sigh and very slowly released his grip on her waist. He took a step back. "I suppose you can go off to bed. I'll see you tomorrow as usual?"

"of course, first thing in the morning. You want me to wake you or just meet you in the ward for rounds?"

Jack shrugged and let out a yawn. "Just meet me in the ward for rounds. I'm planning on staying up a little later, you can go get your beauty sleep."

"alright" she chuckled heading to the door but just before she left she turned back "you’re really thinking about this aren't you?"

Jack stayed silent for a moment, as if he was contemplating the question. He eventually let out a sigh and nodded. "... Yeah, I am. I'm actually... genuinely considering it."

she chuckled and nodded slightly a wicked look on her face for a minute "Well..." She smirked her fingers moving to the small straps of her silk nightie and pulling them down to her waist for a brief few seconds exposing her collar, chest and bare breasts before she quickly moved it back up concealing herself again

Jack went completely silent and still while she lowered the straps, his jaw-dropping as his eyes rushed to memorize every tiny little inch of her skin,

"Some encouragement." She blew him a kiss before she headed out of the morgue "See you in the morning doctor Dawkins"

He let out a breath he didn't realise he was holding, "Bloody hell..." he whispered before quickly composing himself "Y-yeah.. see you in the morning."

Jack continued to remain completely motionless after she'd left. He just stood there for a while, his mind and body practically frozen while his brain desperately tried to process what had just happened. The image of her for those few seconds was now burnt into his memory.

After a few minutes, he seemed to finally have enough self-control to move again. He let out another heavy sigh, running his hand through his hair to try and keep himself from feeling the burning sense of desire. He quickly tried to distract his mind by thinking of the patients, the paperwork, anything that could make him push that goddamn image out of his mind but too late he saw and he was so so happy he saw.

#thomas sangster #tbs smut #thomas brodie sangster #tbs imagines #thomas brodie sangster imagine #thomas sangster imagine #thomas brodie sangster smut #tbs imagine #tbs #thomasbrodiesangster #jackdawkins #jack dawkins #jack #dr dawkins #thearttfuldodger #theartfuldogger #the artful dodger #jack imagines #jack dawkins x reader

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eggs-attorney · 6 months ago

Text

[<<< First] [< Prev]

Reiker: (Well, the battered pieces on the legs definitely aren't normal. Come to think of it, they kind of match with the ones in the other photo...)

Reiker: (Given the background of the photo Flash took, it's likely that this was at the maintenance appointment, but why wouldn't she fix his legs? That's gotta be part of the job description... That, and Yanshu doesn't seem like the type to be friends with a spy. Let me see if there's anything-)

Reiker: (... Wait, on the autopsy photo! That mark…)

Reiker: I'VE GOT IT!!

Rythen: Tch… Usually the turn of phrase is "objection", my dear boy.

Reiker: I'm not going to object to my own client's statement, but I am going to amend it using evidence!

Rythen: This really is an "anything goes" trial, isn't it…?

Reiker: Just… Listen, I was able to find another one of those marks on Flash's body.

Eggman: Oh? So you're saying even more of this Robian's parts were counterfeit!? Wonderful! NOT GUILTY!

Reiker: (If he didn't look so fierce, I'd joke about taking him up on that…)

Reiker: If you look here, you can see that mark, and If you look at it a little closer… I think I can tell exactly where those parts came from, and it definitely wasn't a spy.

Eggman: Just spit it out, Strait.

Reiker: Yanshu made Flash. That's why she made sure she was the one doing his maintenance, that's why she let him leave without replacing the counterfeit parts, and most importantly, THAT'S WHY SHE COULDN'T HAVE KILLED FLASH!

Yanshu: AHH!!

Eggman: Yanshu, is this true!?

Yanshu: P-p-please don't have me roboticized, s-sir! I promise I'm not a spy!!

Yanshu: It'sJustThatIMadeHisAIAndIHadHimInMyComputerAndMyWatchAndHeGrewAndIWasLonelyAndIGotAttachedAndWantedSomeoneToHugAndHeSaidHeWouldIfHeCouldAndItWasSoSweetAndIThoughtAboutItAndGotIdeasAndGotCarriedAwayAndI-!

Yanshu: [Sniff] I… I figured n-no one would miss a few recycled p-parts… It made him so happy... P-please, I'm so sorry!

Eggman: … Why on Earth do you think I'd have you roboticized?

Yanshu: B-… Because I used your parts…? I-I took them out of the disposal bin and modified them myself and I-… [Hic] My manager told me that stealing parts is one of the worst things I could do!

Eggman: I certified each and every one of my organic staff personally. As much as I prefer robots, you and your cohorts getting creative making working parts out of whatever scrap I leave behind means I don't have to. Do you have any idea how time consuming it is recycling all this junk?

Yanshu: Y-you... But he-! Ooogh...

Reiker: Mr. Payne, given this enlightening information, I hope we can agree to a not guilty verdict here?

Rythen: Ha! As if! You really don't see this for the petty farce it is? Do you forget I have an eyewitness to the crime!?

Reiker: Ah yes… That would be Yanshu's manager, right?

Rythen: Indeed. In fact, I'd like to call Mr. Axel Bolton to the stand to testify on what he saw that day!

Reiker: Good. I have a few questions for him myself…

Rythen: Can the witness state their name and occupation?

Axel: Axel Bolton, Head Robo-Tech for the Main Division.

Reiker: Are you… Supposed to have that in here?

Axel: Sorry, tinkering helps my thinkering. Killing two birds with one stone.

Reiker: (Tinkering helps his-... Is he a child?)

Eggman: That's the trademark efficiency I hired you for! Now then, can you testify to the actions you saw Ms. Yanshu take that day?

Axel: Happy to!

Testimony 4: Maintenance Supervision

1:) So I had just gotten back from lunch. Yanshu was the only one working, so I decided to go check on her.

2:) I went over and immediately noticed the weird personality core in the E-5000 she had.

3:) The screws weren't ours, and she was panicking. I told her to look for some other tools while I took a crack at it.

4:) She couldn't find any, and my next appointment came along, so I told her to keep at it and left.

5:) When our shift ended, I found the maintenance sheet on my desk with no note! Or parts!

6:) As per protocol, I dropped everything and chased after the 'bot, but when I arrived… It was too late.

Reiker: (We shouldn't still be talking about this, but I feel like he's already slipped up with his wording here… I should take advantage of it and point out the error!)

[Next >]

#sonic the hedgehog #sonic #sth #ace attorney #eggs attorney #reiker strait #yanshu dryll #dr eggman #rythen payne

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all-together-now · 1 month ago

Note

FOF!Belle was just walking out the machine shop, when - you guessed it - wormhole.

It appeared right in front of her, so she couldn’t get out of the way in time, going straight through it.

As the tinkerer stopped herself from falling flat on her face, it closed behind her.

“Not this again…” she grumbled. “Where am I?”

She took in her surroundings, and found that it was the machine shop. Things looked somewhat the same, except-

“Hmm… no, no, that shouldn’t go there. Too dangerous.”

In front of her was a version of herself with her original design, using Grease’s computer to play what seemed to be some kind of carnival simulator.

"Augh...what do you mean I can fit it there?" ATN!Belle grumbled, "Stupid rollercoaster hitbox..."

"Um...hello?" FoF!Belle tried.

ATN!Belle perked up and spun her head around. She smiled widely upon seeing her counterpart.

"Hi other me!" she waved, getting up from her seat, "Let me guess, wormhole?"

"Wormhole," FoF!Belle groaned, "I couldn't even try and avoid it. It's like these things actively want us to go to other universes..."

"I wouldn't be surprised, "ATN!Belle snickered.

Both tinkerers chuckled. FoF!Belle looked over her counterpart's shoulder and eyed the game on Grease's computer.

"What are you playing?" she asked.

"OH! RollerCoaster Tycoon 3!" ATN!Belle beamed, "I'm obsessed with it. It's a game where you build theme parks for guests. You make rides, place stalls, this version even lets you build zoos, but I don't really do that much."

"Heh. So Grease lets you borrow his computer to play it?"

"Uh...n-not often. I have my own computer, b-but its getting fixed, so I...asked him if I could borrow it for tonight."

FoF!Belle snickered, to which ATN!Belle huffed and turned away. FoF!Belle went back to staring at the computer screen. She saw a teacups right and a kiddie coaster entertain her counterparts digital guests.

"You like amusement parks then?" she asked.

"Oh yeah," ATN!Belle grinned, "They're, like, my biggest hyperfixation. I've always loved the different kinds of rides and attractions and themeings of different parks. Even if some are too intense for me, I still love everything about them."

"Hmm," FoF!Belle hummed longingly, "That must be nice..."

That got ATN!Belle's smiled to fall. She looked at her counterpart concerned.

"Is everything okay?"

"Yeah. Yeah," FoF!Belle replied, "Just...you know where you got that love for amusement parks...right?"

ATN!Belle paused.

"Yeah...Mr. Tinker's old 'Eggmanland' project," ATN!Belle sighed.

"Mhm..." FoF!Belle nodded, "...Sorry, I didn't mean to dower your love for amusement parks, I just..."

She frowned and looked away. ATN!Belle gave her a questioning look.

"Do you still think about our dad often?" FoF!Belle asked.

ATN!Belle blinked. She thought for a moment.

"...Not really, no."

FoF!Belle's eyes widened.

"You don't?"

"No. Come to think of it, I haven't even really thought about him in...weeks. Maybe months."

"Huh...that must be nice..."

Just then another wormhole opened under the mouse tinkerer and she fell through with a squeal. ATN!Belle gawked as the hole closed up. She frowned at the space in the floor her counterpart fell in.

"I hope you find someone who can be his successor..." she whispered.

#belle the tinkerer #future of freedom au #all together now!

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gumballavocadoharry · 3 days ago

Text

Slushies:

The fluorescent lights of Mr. Walcurst’s lecture hall buzzed faintly overhead, casting an artificial glow over the rows of scribbling students. Yn sat near the back, her notebook filled with meticulous notes, her pen pausing occasionally to glance at Harry. He was three rows ahead, his dark brown hair slightly unkempt, his green eyes fixed intently on the professor as he scribbled equations in his usual flurry of color-coded notes. Every so often, he’d turn slightly, catching her eye and offering a warm, knowing smile before returning to his work. It was a small, simple gesture, but it was enough to make Yn’s cheeks flush faintly before she refocused on her notes.

Their chemistry—or rather, the unspoken tension between them—had become a constant hum in the background of Yn’s days. She couldn’t deny the way her heart quickened when Harry lingered by her desk after class, offering quiet insights into the lecture material or asking for her thoughts on some obscure engineering concept. And yet, despite the obvious connection growing between them, neither dared to step beyond the line of friendship. For Yn, it was a matter of caution, of not wanting to risk complicating the safe, predictable rhythm of her academic life. For Harry, it seemed, it was simply a matter of waiting—of letting Yn come to him in her own time.

Outside of class, their friendship deepened. Yn found herself drawn to Harry’s toolshed lair, a cluttered, whimsical space filled with half-finished projects, blinking lights, and the faint scent of solder. It was there that Harry’s true brilliance shone brightest. His inventions, while often unconventional, were undeniably clever—clockwork birds that flapped their wings in time with the beat of nearby music, holographic sticky notes that floated in midair, and, most recently, a machine that turned thoughts into sounds, which had resulted in several hours of unintentional, hilarious chaos.

One afternoon, as Yn watched Harry tinker with a pair of goggles that shot tiny confetti explosions, he paused, wiped his hands on a grease-stained rag, and turned to her with a mischievous grin. “I’ve got something for you,” he said, disappearing into the crowded corner of the shed. He emerged with a small, sleek machine, its surface painted in swirling shades of blue and silver.

“A slushie machine,” he announced proudly, setting it on the workbench. “Fully portable, temperature-controlled, and it comes with three interchangeable flavor cartridges. I thought you might like it.”

Yn’s eyes widened as she took in the device. It was oddly elegant, considering it was one of Harry’s creations. “It’s… beautiful,” she said, reaching out to touch the cool metal surface.

Harry chuckled. “Function over form, as always, but I’m glad you like it. Consider it a gift. For putting up with me, I suppose.”

“You didn’t have to do that,” Yn said, her cheeks warming.

“I know,” Harry replied simply. “But I wanted to.”

That moment, small as it was, lingered in Yn’s mind long after she left the shed that day. It wasn’t just the gift itself that touched her—it was the thoughtfulness behind it, the quiet, unassuming way Harry always seemed to know exactly what to do to make her feel seen.

As the weeks went on, Yn found herself growing more and more comfortable in Harry’s presence. She began assisting him with his projects, offering her own insights and ideas, and even helping him troubleshoot when his inventions inevitably went awry. In turn, Harry became her unofficial study partner, helping her navigate the increasingly complex material in Mr. Walcurst’s class. His explanations were always clear, always patient, and Yn found herself understanding concepts she’d previously struggled with.

And yet, despite her improving grasp of the material, Yn couldn’t shake the growing sense of unease whenever Mr. Walcurst’s eyes landed on her. It started subtly—small, pointed comments about her answers, overly harsh critiques of her assignments, and an unspoken implication that she wasn’t quite measuring up. At first, Yn dismissed it as paranoia, but as the weeks went on, the pattern became impossible to ignore. It wasn’t just that Mr. Walcurst was tough on her—he was tougher on her than on anyone else.

“Have you noticed anything… odd about Mr. Walcurst lately?” Yn asked Harry one evening, as they sat in his toolshed, tinkering with a new design for a solar-powered heater.

Harry looked up from the circuit board in his hands, his brows furrowing slightly. “Odd? Like how?”

“Like the way he treats me,” Yn said, her voice tinged with frustration. “He’s always picking at my answers, finding fault in everything I do. And it’s not just me being sensitive—I’ve seen him go out of his way to criticize me in front of the class. I don’t understand why he’s doing this.”

Harry set the circuit board down and leaned back in his chair, his expression thoughtful. “I’ve noticed,” he said quietly. “I didn’t want to say anything, but… yeah, it does seem like he’s singling you out.”

“Why would he do that?” Yn muttered, shaking her head. “I’m trying my best. I really am.”

Harry reached out, placing a reassuring hand on her arm. “You’re doing great, Yn. Walcurst’s behavior doesn’t reflect on you—it reflects on him. Maybe he’s got some kind of bias, or maybe he’s just having a rough semester. Either way, it doesn’t define your abilities.”

His words were a balm to her frayed nerves, and Yn felt a surge of gratitude toward him. “Thank you, Harry,” she said softly. “Just talking to you about it helps.”

Harry smiled, squeezing her arm gently before withdrawing his hand. “That’s what I’m here for.”

As the days turned into weeks, Yn found herself leaning on Harry more and more—both for emotional support and for help with her assignments. Despite Mr. Walcurst’s growing hostility, she refused to let it break her spirit. And with Harry by her side, she felt a renewed sense of determination, a quiet confidence that she could overcome whatever challenges came her way.

Even so, there were moments when the weight of it all felt almost too much to bear. Late one night, as Yn sat at her desk, staring at a particularly brutal critique of her latest assignment, she felt tears of frustration prick at the corners of her eyes. She blinked them away, her jaw setting in a firm line. She wasn’t going to let Mr. Walcurst win. She wasn’t going to let him make her feel like she didn’t belong.

As she reached for a tissue, her phone buzzed on the desk beside her. It was Harry. Hey, his text read. I know it’s late, but I just wanted to check in. How’s it going?

Yn smiled despite herself. It’s going, she replied. Just trying to survive Mr. Walcurst’s wrath.

There was a pause before his response came. You’re doing better than you think. And if it helps, I think you’re amazing. Don’t let anyone make you feel otherwise.

Yn’s heart swelled at the words, a warmth spreading through her chest. Thank you, Harry, she typed back. You always know just what to say.

That’s because I mean it, he replied. Get some rest. We’ll tackle whatever comes next together.

As Yn set her phone aside and turned back to her notes, she couldn’t help but wonder what the future held—for her, for Harry, and for the increasingly fraught dynamic with Mr. Walcurst.

As the days went by, Yn couldn't shake off the feeling that Mr. Walcurst was deliberately targeting her in class. Every time she answered a question, he would find fault in her response, no matter how accurate or well-reasoned it was. He would raise an eyebrow, his expression skeptical, and proceed to dissect her answer, pointing out minor flaws or perceived weaknesses. It was as if he had a personal vendetta against her, and Yn couldn't understand why.

Harry, sensing her distress, tried to reassure her that she was doing her best, and that Mr. Walcurst's behavior didn't reflect on her abilities. But it was hard for Yn to shake off the feeling of inadequacy that had begun to creep in. She started to doubt herself, wondering if she was indeed not good enough, if she was somehow lacking in a way that Mr. Walcurst could see but she couldn't.

One day, in class, Mr. Walcurst asked Yn to solve a complex math problem on the board. Yn, confident in her abilities, stepped up to the challenge, carefully working through the problem step by step. But just as she was about to write down the final answer, Mr. Walcurst interrupted her, his voice dripping with condescension.

"Ah, I think you're going about this the wrong way, Yn," he said, his eyes scanning the room as if to say, "Can anyone else see how misguided this student is?" "Why don't you try it again, and this time, pay attention to the details?"

Yn felt a surge of frustration and embarrassment. She had been so careful, so meticulous in her approach, and yet Mr. Walcurst was implying that she was careless, sloppy. She tried to composed herself, to redo the problem, but her hands were shaking, and her mind was a jumble of self-doubt.

Harry, sitting in the back of the classroom, watched the exchange with growing concern. He could see the hurt and frustration in Yn's eyes, and he knew that Mr. Walcurst's behavior was not only unfair but also damaging. He made a mental note to talk to Yn about it later, to try and help her see that she was not alone, that Mr. Walcurst's behavior was not a reflection of her worth or abilities.

After class, Yn and Harry walked back to his house, the tension between them palpable. Yn was quiet, lost in thought, while Harry tried to reassure her, to lift her spirits. But as they sat in his toolshed, surrounded by the familiar comforts of his inventions and gadgets, Yn finally broke down, tears streaming down her face.

"I just don't understand why he's doing this, Harry," she sobbed. "I'm trying so hard, and yet he always finds fault in everything I do. It's like he wants me to fail."

Harry pulled her into a warm hug, holding her close as she cried. "You're not alone, Yn," he whispered. "I'm here for you, and I know that you're an amazing student, an incredible person. Mr. Walcurst's behavior doesn't define you – it defines him. He's the one with the problem, not you."

As Yn cried, Harry stroked her hair, his touch gentle and soothing. He knew that he had to do something to help Yn, to make her see that she was not alone, that she was worthy of respect and kindness. And as he held her, he began to formulate a plan, a way to expose Mr. Walcurst's unfair behavior and bring him to account for his actions. It wouldn't be easy, but Harry was determined to help Yn, to be her rock, her safe haven in a world that sometimes seemed cruel and unforgiving.

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ranchracoon · 2 months ago

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Chemistry

AU Cassandra x Fem Reader

Requested by: Misa_Amane19382

"Alright sound check for act 2, actors on stage, beginning with your cue Cassandra."

You adjust your headphones in the sound booth, flicking on the mics and swelling the music before bringing it down for the scene. There's an outline of the play in front of you which you use as guide, following along for when there's a sound cue, and when you need to play it. The microphones are all synced and working properly, the theater teacher Mrs. Prune follows along as the actors on stage perform. She calls for a pause, giving notes on performers when the mic cuts on one of the actresses. You're called down to fix it, and of course it's the main actress Cassandra Dimitrescu. The other techs tease you relentlessly because it's so obvious you have a crush on her, but she's Cassandra Dimitrescu! She's the headliner in every show since she was a freshman, of course many thought it was because her mom is the principle but she's actually just that good. Damn. Even defending her in your mind sounds bad and you can hear the techs snickering about it already.

You come down the stairs and walk through the aisle until you're up on stage, tinkering with Cassandra's mic which sits right at her hip. She smells really good, not like the cheap vanilla perfume that lots of the other girls wear, she smells like a field of fresh flowers with a hint of rain. You want to drown yourself in it but right now is the time to be professional, and definitely not taking your time on purpose so you can be near her. The mic is an easy fix, the cord is coming loose and you tape it up quickly, well, not too quickly then rush back up to your box. The other tech with you snickers, they don't even have to say anything before you start blushing.

Everything goes smoothly for the sound check, this next week is set building which you are also apart of. Painting, building, sanding, even a little electrical work to make sure everything is up and running for the play. You use one of your empty class slots to come into the theater and work on the sets, Mrs. Prune trusts you enough to give you a key so you pop some music on your phone and work away. Your music is so loud that you don't hear the door opening to the main auditorium nor the footsteps approaching as you're on a ladder reaching up to fix some scaffolding.

"Hey what are you doing?"

The voice startles you so much that the ladder rocks and you curse trying to catch yourself, whomever scared you runs up on the ladder, steadying it before you fall to your death. You pant heavily as you clutch to the ladder for life, looking down to see Cassandra holding the ladder for you.

"I'm sorry! I didn't mean to frighten you" she apologizes quickly.

"No worries" you pant out, descending the stairs and turning off your music.

"I didn't know it was you and thought it was some, rando messing with the set. I'm sorry."

"It's fine, really. I'm okay."

"What are you doing here anyway?" She asks.

"I come here during my free period, I don't have anything to do until rehearsal. What are you doing here?"

"Same thing, kind of. My class got let out early so I asked Mrs. Prune if I could come in here and rehearse. Hey, maybe you could help me?"

You swallow thickly, "uh sure. I'd be happy to."

Cassandra beams and runs over to her bag she dropped pulling out her script and handing it to you.

"I need help with the last scene. She keeps giving me all these notes for the final act but Markus is so...flat. I honestly don't know how he got the lead in the first place."

You chuckle and hand the script back, "I've read this thing probably as much as you have. I know the lines pretty well."

"Great, lets get started then."

Cassandra starts with her lines, it's the final act when the main protagonist, you, are reunited with your love, Cassandra, after being forced apart. You remember the stage cues and look for the tape on the stage where you'll be before rushing onto the stage, grasping Cassandra by the hands. She hesitates for a moment before a light flicks in her head and she resumes, fully enveloped in the scene. She plays it so naturally, as if she really has been without her love and you can't help but blush brightly as she locks eyes with you. Proclaiming her undying love, how she'll fall in love with you no matter what, her monologue. Of course then there's a kiss, and the play ends with them running off together for their happily ever after.

Cassandra takes a step back, clearing her throat as she releases your hands and you blush harder upon seeing how red her hands are from how hard you were gripping them. She pushes some hair behind her ear, catching a soft blush on her cheeks as well.

"That was way better than Markus" she compliments.

"Thanks" you say shyly as you rub the back of your neck.

* * *

"Where is Markus?" Mrs. Prune yells.

"He's at the senior boys auction" someone says.

"What about his back up? Leon?"

"Also at the auction" another answers.

"Well, who's going to step in for him? We're less than a month away from opening. We need everything perfect."

"Y/N can" Cassandra answers.

Your head shoots up from the opera pit looking up to see everyone looking down at you making you break out into goosebumps.

Mrs. Prune sighs heavily, "do you know the lines?"

"Um-ye-"

"Yes she does. We practiced once before" Cassandra defends.

"Very well. Y/N, get up here."

The other techs in the opera pit start teasing you, making "ooh' sounds which you curse at as you climb up onto the stage. Mrs. Prune orders the play from the start and to get into starting positions. It takes you a minute, but you get into the groove of the play only missing a line or two which Mrs. Prune reminds you. You lowkey hate her when she's close to an opening, she becomes stressed, and snappy. Cassandra and the rest of the cast are in full costume which makes you stick out but somehow it still flows nicely and you cruise through the show. The ending comes and you and Cassandra have built up so much that when the ending kiss comes in, she goes full send. It's a theater kiss, she places her thumbs onto your lips and kisses you, but it still sends your head reeling. When she drags you backstage she's giggling at your flustered state.

"That was amazing! I wish Mrs. Prune would put women in male positions because you did such a better job than Markus."

"Um yeah you-you did great too" you stutter out.

* * *

Opening weekend comes and goes, the play finishes out with a full house and you switch the mic off because the audience erupts in thunderous applause. You high five the other techs for a job well done as you pack up while the actors and actresses meet with Mrs. Prune for the final debriefing. You cart the sound equipment back to the storage which is in a small hallway littered in clothing because many of the ensemble use it for their quick changes. Cassandra stomps out of the room with Markus in tow.

"I can't believe you just rejected me in front of everyone!" Markus yells.

"That's your fault for asking in front of everyone. I don't even like you like that." Cassandra snaps.

"What about out on stage?" Markus asks.

"It's called acting for a reason dipshit."

"Oh please, you're gonna tell me that after all we've been through you don't even have the slightest bit of feelings for me?"

"Does disgust count?" Cassandra scoffs.

"Whatever" Markus scoffs back, leaving the hallway.

Cassandra rubs her face before looking around and seeing you, but you kept pretending to put equipment away, mindlessly moving things back and forth as to try to act like you're not listening. Cassandra comes up behind you and shoves you into the tech storage room, shutting the door behind the two of you.

"What are you doing?" You whisper scream.

"How much of that did you hear?" She asks.

"All of it....are you okay?" You ask quietly.

There's a long pause and you're about to ask again when Cassandra's hands roam around in the dark to find your face, cupping your cheeks softly.

"Y/N, I've been doing theater since I could walk and talk, and I've never felt anything like I did with you on stage. All I could think about was you when Markus was talking, even kissing him I imagined you. This is gonna sound so stupid....but I don't want to let these feelings go to waste. I know you like me, and I think I like you too. Would you be willing to give me a chance?"

"Yes" you spurt out.

You clear your throat to curb your enthusiasm, "yes" you say more calmly.

There's a shuffle in the room, you're thankful for how dark it is because otherwise she would see your face is burning. She can probably feel it as she tugs on your cheeks to pull your head down then you feel something soft on your lips. She's kissing you. You close the space and kiss her back, fumbling in the dark as your hands find her waist and pull her into you.

Master Post

#cassandra dimitrescu x fem reader #resident lover #au cassandra dimitrescu #modern setting #resident evil modern setting #re8 #resident evil village

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rainestorm-theerror · 1 year ago

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My proposal for the next iron man movie

Iron Man 4: A New Dawn

Slanted = voiceover, Bold = descriptions of what’s on screen, strikthrough = in movie but not trailer, no extra = talking and can see the people having convo

Clips of Hydra taking over things, people kidnapped, things burning, avengers are not available (as said above)

Fury: The world needs help, Hydra is rising and nobody else is around, we need Iron Man, and the only Stark Heirs are here.

Clip to Pepper and Morgan sitting next to eachother and Peter across the table in the meeting room, Maria hill I’m at the Head and Fury in a chair facing everyone

At the same time

Pep: no, you are not sending my daughter into battle-

Peter: I’m Spider-Man I need to look out for the little guy! *as everyone stops talking and looking at him cause he didn’t deny* I’m also not a Stark so like, *so so gesture w/ hands*

Fury: Ms Potts, Mr Parker, I am not suggesting to send someone who is not yet a teenager into battle, and I am not saying I believe Spider man should retire, I have someone else in mind, ever heard the name Harley Keener?

Flashes to Harley getting off a bus, greeting someone, getting coffee drink from a vending machine and walking towards his garage

Pepper: I’ve heard the name, all I remember is that Tony broke into his garage and then he fixed the iron man suit

Peter, turning his head w/ this crazed out looking his face: He did what?

Harley opens the garage door, sees Hill, Fury & Pepper there, sips his drink, closes the door, opens it again,

Harley: What the fu- (in full movie, he will get cut off by Abbie) (Hey Harley, these assholes sort of just barged in here earlier, sorry, Harley: why aren’t you at school? Abbie: I dunno, my parents are dead, ever thought of that. Harley: *blinks* wow, you’re so unique)

Hill, feet on meeting table, notepad or phone in her hands, looking up from whatever she’s doing

Hill: Well, he’s definitely got the attitude

Clips of Harley using the holograms to design a new suit, less chunky than the OG suit, more like peters, but still w/ all the stuff that Tony had. And then clips of him building it, and tinkering around,

Harley: So you want me to be iron man?

Fury: No, we need you to be iron man

and then there’s a clip of him asking Abby for a screwdriver and from the couch she flips him off

Harley: Can you pass the screwdriver

Abby: *flips him off from the couch*

Clips of world being taken over, Harley completing the new suit,

Fury: Hydra is coming back, right under our noses, they took Morgan, and we’re going to stop them and get her back, more specifically, you two are gonna stop them and get them back

Harley and Fury walking out the elevator and Harley sips on his coffee

Harley: me and who?

Peter: I think he’s talking about me,

Harley spits out his drink as he sees this teenager hanging upside down from the ceiling, Peter gets down and hold out his hand for a handshake

Peter: Oh I’m so sorry, are you ok? hi! I, I uh, I’m Peter Parker, Spider-Man, nice to meet you!

Harley: Harley Keener

Peter: Yeah I know!

Fury: great you met, now let’s get onto defeating Hydra

Big meeting room, where there are plans on how Peter and Harley are going to infiltrate Hydra, Fury explains a bit on how they’re gonna get the kidnapped people out.

Harley: So the fate of the world rest on two teenagers

Peter: Not your brightest idea Fury

Fury: *sighs*

Later, alone. Fury: Not my brightest idea, well you try to deal with a severe lack of Tony Stark!

In a dif meeting, finalising plans, Harley looks kind of bored

Friday alerts them,

Friday: Mr Keener, the security cameras outside of Abigail Keeners school show here getting taken by a black van which appears to have the Hydra symbol on it

A clip do Abigail getting kidnapped into the car and Harley looking pissed, Peter looking sad and pissed, Pepper is horrified, Fury and Hill look kinda annoyed but not really

Harley: This just got personal

And then shows the release dates and where and stuff

#iron man #tony stark #spiderman #marvel #the avengers #iron man 4 #iron man trailer #nick fury #pepper potts #morgan stark #harley keener #peter parker #i wrote this #i wrote some words #i did this instead of sleeping

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vioyume · 1 year ago

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An Analysis about Eggman and his Creations

youtube

^ Very interesting video, please give it a watch. It's what inspired me write this in the first place.

I always enjoyed exploring the dynamics and relationships between characters. The one between Shadow and Eggman never took my attention until now, most likely because the Shadow the Hedgehog game is a big rabbit hole in many ways. But I sometimes questions this relationship between Shadow and the Robotnik generations that came after Maria.

But I very briefly put my thoughts out about Eggman's relationships between his creations before. And since Frontiers I wondered how his new found fatherhood will go, I think it's clear to me that Eggman obviously has a favourite, and has made him soften up a little and that is for Sage, and yet why?

Is it because she is more human? Someone who has more sentience? the reminder of Maria? or that she achieved more than and over done than any other of his creations (That's probably what he thinks at least, argue with me if you want). Despite what you may think continuity wise, he was perfectly ok with throwing Metal Sonic out and a part of me thinks that he was there during TMOSTH because Sage grew fond of him and viewed him as an older brother, even Orbot thinks so as well.

Eggman has built many robots with sentience (and shows successful potential) and has all felt resentment after their abandonment or realized what their current situation is. He is an abusive creator, and does things for his own gain, because after all he can always build another robot.

Specifically with Belle, she was made by Mr Tinker, and had a loving relationship with each other. Afterwards, when Eggman regained his memories, he held no respect to their previous relationship when she finally decides to let go of the past and faced that Mr. Tinker is no more, she is a reminder of the pathetic man he saw himself as before and did not bother holding on to what that life gave him (and also we can't kill off Eggman).

Metal Sonic, in recent years, is a very loyal dog. He will stick by Eggman's side no matter what. He endures the abuse that is put up from Eggman, and is content when being praised when succeeding. He has shown to be rebellious before, I assume Eggman has fixed that after the events of Heroes, but he still has thoughts of his own.

And yet why does he still stick around? Is it the fear of what happened post Heroes? Is he bounded to his programming or does he truly feel that he owes Eggman his loyalty? If the pursuit of being the true Sonic is still there, then why work for him?

Then there's Sage, an AI, a technology that outputs the best results based on facts and information. It is shown that she has grew fond of Eggman during her time in Frontiers and shown to be just as, if not then more loyal than Metal Sonic. She is still made by Eggman, so she is obligated to stay by his side at the very start, but she is young and analytical. Part of me wants to question how much of this relationship is built upon just making the other happy, and how much is just pure love.

I believe Sage shows the human side of Eggman, someone who hasn't had second thoughts about himself until now. His manipulative and arrogant demeanour is still there but he tries to be a father, and actually shows remorse when he loses her. Both characters make each human and inhumane, and that Eggman will turn out to be a faulty father to Sage, but at the very core he cares for her.

From the very beginning this whole family tree is shown to be very dysfunctional, but they've tried at least.

#sonic #dr eggman #sonic idw #metal sonic #belle the tinkerer #sage robotnik #sage the ai #character analysis #rambles #vio.txt #long post

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soyoudontlikejazz · 4 months ago

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Dwayne McDuffie’s Fantastic Four/Doctor Doom graphic novel outline, preserved here in its entirety! (Original link below as well!)

“To Hell And Back!”

Years ago, while still a graduate student at Columbia University, REED RICHARDS lives at the boardinghouse of JEWEL DINKINS. Jewel is the aunt of twelve-year-old SUSAN STORM and her younger brother, JOHNNY. Reed is hard at work on the "Star-drive" that he hopes will someday propel a spaceship to another solar system.

Despite Mrs. Dinkins' repeated warnings not to "open space-warps in the house," Reed has a small device in his room that he tinkers with incessantly. Whenever he tests it by opening a small dimensional "wormhole," Jewel appears to give him a firm dressing-down concerning the rules of her household. "How does she always know?", Reed wonders as he thumbs the warp closed with a remote control unit.

Reed also wonders, to the extent that he notices, what to do about the painful adolescent crush that Sue ("Susan", she insists) has on him. For her part Sue is equally embarrassed as her attempts to be seductively ladylike are frustrated at every turn by her omnipresent kid brother.

The big news in the boardinghouse these days is the impending visit of Reed's old roommate, All-American football star (Heisman Trophy winner? What position did he play? And what did he get his degree in anyway, Aviation? Also, why didn't he play pro ball?) Ben Grimm, who is coming by (perhaps on leave from the Air Force?) to spend some time with his old buddy.

On the roof of Jewel's brownstone, Johnny shows Sue the toy Reed built for him, a remote-controlled flying vehicle (which may visually prefigure the "flying bathtub" Fantasticar). They argue about Reed. Johnny thinks that Reed is too cool to be interested in "mushy stuff". Sue contends that Reed loves her. "He just doesn't know it yet."

Meanwhile, Jewel has let in a visitor, an old classmate of Reed's, and calls Reed down to meet him. The figure, who wears a hooded cloak that shrouds his face, is known to Reed but isn't who he expected. He is VICTOR VON DOOM. Doom claims, in an especially unconvincing manner, that his arrival is coincidence. He simply needs a room, and although this place isn't up to his usual standards... Sue and Johnny enter the sitting room. Johnny races towards Doom shouting, "Mister Grimm?" Doom pushes him away and Johnny hits the floor. Sue threatens, "You hit my brother again and I'll pound you !" "I don't need my dumb sister to stick up for me, I'll pound him myself!", Johnny protests.

"Don't call your sister 'dumb', kid. She was just lookin out for ya." It's Ben Grimm, standing in the doorway. "Hi, stretch. You didn't tell me this was a class reunion. I like the hood, Doomsie. But if I had a puss like yours, I'd do the public a favor and stay off the street !"

Ignoring Ben, Doom comes on courtly with Jewel. He made a mistake, Johnny surprised him. With Reed's encouragement, Jewel gives Doom a room. Doom retires to it.

Reed makes introductions. Johnny is impressed by Ben and adds to his sister's introduction. "She's Reed's fiancé." Embarrassment all around. Johnny is confused, Ben amused. Jewel shoos Sue and Johnny away to prepare for dinner, then leaves herself. On the way out, Sue smacks Johnny on the head. "What'd I dooo?", he whines.

Ben wants to know why Reed encouraged Jewel to let Doom stay. Doom has been obsessed with proving he's Reed's superior ever since "the accident."

FLASHBACK to Reed and Doom's first confrontation.

Reed suspects Doom is up to no good again, and wants to keep an eye on him. Ben concurs uneasily, then invites Reed to hit some nightclubs with him. Reed agrees. Ben wants to know if Reed'll ask Sue to fix him up with one of her friends, as he "don't want to be no third wheel." "Give me a break, Ben."

Much later, Jewel is checking up on the peacefully sleeping Johnny when Sue calls her into the next room, "Hurry Auntie, it's coming on !" Jewel enters the den, and sits on the couch next to Sue. They begin to watch The Avengers on television. Sue wants to be Mrs. Peel.

Reed and Ben are at a table in a Village nightclub. As a jazz trio plays behind them, Reed tells Ben about his plans for a spaceship. Even with the government's help, he's already spent over half of his considerable inheritance. However, he remains confident that he can solve the remaining technical and financial obstacles to his spaceflight. As once before, he asks Ben to fly his ship on its maiden voyage but this time he means it. Ben accepts, truly honored. They shake hands. A longtime friendship deepens.

Doom sneaks into Reed's room and ponders Reed's warp projection apparatus. Just as he thought, this will do. He attaches leads from a potentiometer-like device to the warp projector and opens a warp. "Yes, with a few, simple adjustments... Soon, Mother. Soon..."

"Mrs. Peel, we're nee...--fissssszt--" Back in the den, The TV picture turns to static. "Hey !", Sue complains. Jewel gets up muttering that "Reed's got that thing on again." Sue follows her out of the room.

Sue and Jewel discover Doom testing Reed's equipment. "What do you think you're doing?" Doom uses "the mists of Morpheus" or somesuch to put them to sleep.

Sometime later, Ben and Reed return to the boardinghouse. Ben banters as Reed pays for the cab. "I think the redhead would have gone with me if you'd've taken her friend." Johnny interrupts, running down the front steps in his pj's. "Aunt Jewel and Sue are 'sleep and won't wake up!"

By the time they arrive in Reed's room, Jewel and Sue are awake again but confused. "Doom!," Reed exclaims. Ben adds, "Hey, he stole your doohickey!" Jewel confirms, filling Ben and Reed in on what happened. "He just waved his hands and we fell asleep like magic," Sue finishes breathlessly. "Probably some sort of hypnosis," Reed allows. "What could Doom want with my warp drive?"

Doom explains his scheme-and the incredible apparatus surrounding them-to Boris. A few adjustments to Reed's projector and he can open a portal to Hell that his dead mother's spirit can pass. By using "Mephisto's Tears" -mystical gems somehow connected to the demon- the portal will bar Mephisto himself.

Johnny is flying his toy around. It annoys Jewel but gives Reed an idea. They can use the remote control to turn the projector on wherever it is. A device in Reed's Columbia University lab can detect the projector's signature radiation and they can find out where it is.

Sue and Johnny plan to go with. Sue is dressed in a black leotard and ballet shoes, the closest she can come to an Emma Peel jumpsuit. Johnny refuses to wear a bowler.

Sue and Johnny arrive in the vestibule, ready to go. Both Reed and Jewel insist, "No!" Ben says to Reed, "Sure, we're just gonna go get your doohickey back. Let's give Mrs. Dinkins a break and take 'em along."

At his Columbia lab, Reed tries to turn on his projector by remote control. No go, it's out of range. If only they had a more powerful transmitter. Ben's got an idea. Reed thinks it could work. Johnny and Ben go off to the college transmitter. Reed explains the plan to Sue who embarrasses the hell out of him by flirting shamelessly, if inexpertly.

Ben and Johnny sneak past a guard at Columbia's WKCR radio transmitter. Johnny "cries," distracting the other guard, who Ben grabs in a bear hug from the rear and tosses into a closet. They then reset the frequency of the transmitter, in effect turning the entire station into a remote control for Reed's projector. "Hope the FCC doesn't hear about this," Ben mutters.

As Doom continues to prepare his spell/experiment, Reed's warp projector suddenly switches itself on. "Richards is often more intelligent than I give him credit for. Still, he is too late. I am ready."

Back at Reed's lab, Sue helps Reed pinpoint the energy surge on a map. Ben calls and gets directions.

Everyone meets outside of a warehouse. Reed is holding a detection device and proclaims, "This is the place. Ben and I are going in. You two stay right here." Ben disagrees. "No way we're leaving them outside in this neighborhood at this time o' night. They'll be safer in there with Doom!"

The pre-fantastic four enter through an ominously open front door and head up the stairs. Steel bars shoot up and form a cage around them. Ben can't budge them. Doom reveals his plot and boasts of his genius. His melding of Science and Magic has accomplished something that neither could alone. He tells them about his mother. Reed explains the set-up but doesn't understand the mystical aspect. Doom laughs. Sue listens very carefully. Doom turns back to his preparations.

The Pre-FF discuss the morality of the situation. Reed doesn't believe in Hell and wonders what Doom is really up to. Johnny thinks that trying to save your mom isn't such an evil thing. Sue agrees, it won't hurt to let him try. "Yeah," says Ben. "Let him use the doohickey. Then punch him out!" At least they all agree that they have to get out of the cage. No problem. Sue squeezes between the bars. Johnny doesn't even have to squeeze. With directions from Reed, Sue opens the cage. Doom doesn't have time to fool with them. He sics primitive Doombots on them.

Ben takes a poke at one, probably breaking his hand. Sue takes a powder. Reed is distant, thinking it out. Johnny buzzes a bunch of them with his flying toy. Three of the robots chase the toy out of a window and fall to the ground several stories below. The toy flies back in. "Not too bright," Johnny says. Reed has found the control panel and gives Ben instructions how to turn the robots off. Ben runs through the robots like a kick-off return specialist as robots close threateningly on Johnny and Sue. After making his way through the bulk of them, even tricking some into crashing into each other, Ben's way is blocked by one last robot. There's no way around it. Reed bowls it over by blocking it across the knees. Ben shuts them down and they freeze in mid-motion. Sue pushes over the one that was reaching for her. Reed is shaken up but okay. All of this is too late. Doom finishes his spell.

A mystical portal opens at the center of Doom's apparatus, debris sails across the chamber. Demons and spirits pour out freely and the warp widens. Mephisto's Tears are not acting as a barrier the way Doom thought they would. Reed says that Doom didn't consider negative pressure. Obviously this dimension Doom's tapped into has a higher energy density than our own. The warp will widen, and draw in ever greater amounts of matter, perhaps the entire city, before the effect exhausts itself. Ben is disinterested in the lecture. "How do ya shut the blasted thing off?" Reed turns off the projector with his remote control. Nothing happens. "Ben, disconnect the power supply!" Ben rips a heavy power cable from the apparatus. Sparks fly, and the effect is reversed, everything in the lab is sucked towards the warp, which is shrinking, but not quickly enough.

Sue notices that a scrap of paper inside of the pentagram isn't moving. It's safe in there. Reed doesn't see why this should be but hauls the unconscious Doom into the safety zone nonetheless. Ben does the same with Boris. Johnny and Sue are also safe inside the pentagram. Reed does some quick calculation and realizes that at the moment before the warp closes, there will be a point singularity in the room with them. Even if a full-fledged black hole isn't formed, there will an incredibly dense object suddenly appearing in real space. It will create intense gravitic waves and deadly radiation fully sufficient to destroy the Earth. It shouldn't be happening but it is. There has to be some way to cut it off from whatever its energy source is. "I know what it is!," Sue says. "It's magic!" She fastens her lipstick to the side of Johnny's flying car and tells him to draw a star around Mephisto's Tears just like the one they're standing in. Johnny draws a pentagram around the tears and the warp disappears. The Tears, which were hovering a foot above the ground, fall to the floor in the pentagram's center.

Doom awakens just in time to see the warp close. His mother's spirit, along with all of the others, Johnny's toy, and Reed's projector are all pulled spectacularly to the warp, then trapped on the other side. Doom curses Reed and launches himself at him. Ben intercepts, flattening Doom with a hard right. Boris rushes to Doom's aid. "You want some too, pal?" He does not. As the Pre-FF are intruders on Doom's property they decide to get out. Doom nurses his busted lip, clutching the Tears in his hand and hiding the tears on his face. Today's indignities will not be forgotten. But, if he is to free his mother, he must first learn more magic.

In Hell, Mephisto laughs at Doom's failure. He's been watching the whole thing. When Doom is ready to try again, he will be waiting.

Meanwhile, in a deserted corner of Mephisto's realm, the warp projector lays ignored only a few feet from Johnny's broken toy.

Back at the boardinghouse, Ben says his good-byes. He's sure that they'll all meet again. "Yes," Reed muses. "We do make quite a team, don't we?"

A giant two-or-three page splash illustrates highlights of the Fantastic Four's career aided by a series of captions that go something like this: "A daring spaceflight. A billion-to-one accident. The discovery of power. And of purpose. Righting wrongs. Saving worlds. Discovering new worlds. Love, marriage, life. Heartbreak, separation, death. Secrets revealed. Victories won. And...a loose end or two..." At the last, we see an inset panel of Reed's warp projector coming to life where it lies half-buried in Hell.

It's the present. The Thing is walking the streets in his somewhat concealing trenchcoat. There'll be captions to let us know that this is the Ben we met in the first half of the story. He sees a car spin out of control and smash into a wall. Throwing aside his trenchcoat [this is the first time we see him clearly -now we know what the caption was referring to when it spoke of him gaining the power to do good...at a price], he rushes to the side of the badly crushed car. When he tears the car's roof off he reveals Mrs. Dinkins. She's older, he only met her once -and that years ago- but he remembers her. "Lady, are you alright? Hey, don't I know you?" Jewel claps her palms over the Thing's ears. He howls in pain and grabs his ringing head. She punches him in the face with a roundhouse right. The impact sends him sailing through the air. He lands in a heap at the foot of a building and struggles gamely to his feet. "It's clobberin' time..." he offers weakly. Indeed it is. Jewel pulls the pin from a hand grenade with her teeth, then extends the arm in front of her so that it is pointing towards the Thing. Her arm detaches midway between elbow and shoulder and flies off, rocket exhaust streaming from its rear. The new angle reveals that the arm she punched the Thing with is now a twisted mass of metal and wires. The other arm, with a live grenade clenched in its fist slams into the wall behind the still-dazed Thing, exploding and burying him under tons of rubble.

Johnny Storm, "the Human Torch," and his wife Alicia are taking advantage of Indian Summer with a walk through the country. Johnny is shocked to see Aunt Jewel, who appears from nowhere asking for help. Johnny sits Alicia on a bench and follows Jewel to a nine foot wide metal pipe set into the side of a hill. Using his finger as a light source, he follows Jewel down the long pipe until they reach its end: an iris. Jewel pushes a button and the iris opens. A wall of water pours out at deadly speed. Johnny bursts into flames -except for his arms- and grabbing Jewel under the arms, flies towards the open end of the pipe. The water is gaining on him. We are looking at the exterior of the pipe when abruptly, water rushes out, dumping an extinguished and unconscious Johnny , and a "broken" Jewel on the ground.

Sue Richards, "the Invisible Woman" finishes a charity performance that allows us to see the range of her powers. She finally makes it to her dressing room where, no surprise by now, Jewel is waiting for her. Sue greets her warmly. "Aunt Jewel! I didn't know you were going to be here tonight." As she hugs her, Jewel injects her with a hypodermic hidden in her index finger. Sue falls to the ground unconscious.

Reed Richards is at a big university's particle accelerator looking at some fusion-power research. Jewel appears but Reed isn't buying it, he recognizes the subtle but tell-tale motion that gives away even the best robots. He stretches towards it to attack. Jewel discharges a massive amount of electricity into Reed's body. Reed writhes in pain as only he can and then, mercifully, passes out.

The Fantastic Four awaken in a gigantic room in Doom's castle. They are each bound in traps designed to neutralize their powers. Johnny floats in a tube of liquid; his arms behind his back, his feet lashed together, and an oxygen mask obscuring his face. Ben has been cast into a solid block of metal, only his neck and head are free. Reed is in a plastic bubble [actually that's kind of boring -maybe he's wound painfully around some kind of reel?-I'm still working on this but I'll think of something]. Sue's arms are bound behind her and her head is in some Kirbyesque helmet to prevent her from using her force-field powers. They are all facing a platform -almost a stage- that is dominated by a large screen. On the platform is Doom, who stands at the center of an apparatus that looks like an updated and much more powerful version of the one he tried to use to free his mother years ago. Doom's armor has been altered in a high-tech and visually appealing manner. Reed might comment that it looks like an ELF reception web has been bonded to his armor. Doom begins to explain what he's up to. The Fantastic Four were all present when he suffered his most humiliating failure. Now they will watch him succeed at the same task. He has a new approach to the problem of his mother's imprisonment. "Boris?"

Boris hits a switch and the screen comes to life, showing that Reed's warp projector is already operational. Johnny's flying toy rests in the background. Doom enters a pentagram amid the tangle of high-tech and mystical artifacts and exits (we see on the screen) through the warp into Hell.

Mephisto greets Doom gleefully and torments him by torturing his mother's spirit as graphically as I can get away with. Doom is enraged and threatens Mephisto. Mephisto laughs and reminds Doom that this is his realm and that here, his word is reality. Doom's only response is to say, "Now, Boris."

Back on Earth, Boris is ready. He presses the enter key on a computer that has a mystic spell displayed on its monitor. The spell vanishes, replaced by the word "Running."

Doom 's armor unfolds into a huge receptor web not unlike solar collector panels. Mephisto is amused. "Do you think a machine can protect you from even a fraction of my power? Burn, Doom!" Mephisto fires a mystic bolt at Doom and is horrified to discover that he can't stop -his power is flowing out of him and into Doom! Mephisto discorporates painfully. Doom's armor glows until we can't see him within its glare. When the glow fades, Doom is transformed, his green robes are now red, and are those flames flickering behind his faceplate? "This world is mine!," he shouts, turning to look out on the FF from the screen. "Do you see, Richards? do you grasp my plan?"

Reed does, and begs Doom not to do it. "Do what?, asks Johnny. "He can't free his mother from Hell so..." "So I am bringing her the Earth!," Doom concludes. He has usurped Hell, and when he moves Earth into his dimension, he will rule over it as well. Doom creates a giant warp and the Earth moves through it as he speaks. "I have had but three goals in my life, Richards: To free my mother from Mephisto, to prove that I am your superior, and to rule this world. Today, my grandest dreams and your worst nightmares have come to pass at once. Today is Doom's day!"

The Earth now rests securely in Hell. It is hideously transformed. Everything is recognizable but twisted into the Dante version of same. This is really a chance for the artist to go nuts. Everything is disturbing, familiar but hellish, even Doom's playroom, where the FF are still bound, has been changed. The Doombots that guard the room, for instance, have been transformed from ultra sleek, high-tech, fighting machines to metallic demons. Doom appears. "Boris! Take a note, we must do something about the decor." Boris, also transformed, does as he's told. Doom uses a fraction of his power to transport his mother into the room. She is dazed and confused (as anyone would be after decades of torture) but she understands that somehow, her son has rescued her. They hug. "Mother, I would like to introduce you to my most hated enemy, Reed Richards, and his lackeys the Fantastic Four. Richards, my mother, Cynthia von Doom!" Mom is tired. Doom creates a doorway to an elegantly decorated bedroom and sends her to rest.

Doom turn his attention to the FF. He informs them that they are the only four free minds in Hell. He has done this both to provide him with the challenge of opposition missing the last time he conquered the Earth, and to allow him to prove his continued superiority to Reed. With a wave of his hand he frees the FF from their bonds. "We can't fool around. Take him!," Sue shouts, projecting a spike-shaped force field through the torso of one of the Doombots. "Flame on!," cries Johnny. He fires a flame blast at one of the robots, then realizes that his power isn't the most useful one to have in Hell. "Great. Now what do I do?" The Thing sinks his fingers into the chest of one robot and smashes it into a second one. Reed winds his way through the feet of several of the robots, tripping them and sling-shoting one into several more. Johnny buzzes around a handful of robots, annoying them. A robots hand and arm are smashed against Sue's force field when it tries to punch her. "Reed, how can we put the Earth back where it belongs?" Reed is absorbing force blasts with his elastic body. He is confused by the mystical aspects of the apparatus. Johnny flies out of a window and the three Doombots on his tail follow him, then fall to the ground far below. Johnny flies back in. "Hee hee hee!" Sue tells Reed not to think of it as a magical problem but just as a problem. The Thing bashes Doombots with great success and makes it to the control panel. Reed has an idea. Sue blocks a force blast that was about to hit Ben from his blindside. Reed postulates the mystical power totems as 3-D shadows of Nth dimensional machines, if so this device can return the Earth to its normal hyper and real space coordinates... "Never mind the lecture!, Ben bellows. "How do ya turn the blamed thing on?" "Oh. Pull the red lever." Ben reaches for it then he the rest of the FF are suddenly transported to Times Square.

Imagine Times Square if it really were the Hell that some people think it is. The FF are in the middle of it, and Doom's face is on the screen above the Coke sign. "Ne deja vu pas.." says Johnny. "What?"

"That's the persistant feeling that you've never been somewhere before." Doom speaks. He is surprised that Reed's formidable but rigid intellect could solve the problem but it's not going to be quite that simple. He will see them when they get back to Latveria.

The FF plan their next move. Sue wants to go find Franklin. No. He wont even know you. Our first priority has to be transportation to get back to Latveria, Johnny believes. If we save the world then Franklin will be safe too. Reed is wrestling with a plan. It's difficult to do because Doom is so much more powerful than they. Ben says that power isn't the point. "It wuz never power that beat him. We sure didn't have no power the first time we took him. It wuz...I dunno. Us together." They are going to go to Four Freedom's Plaza and see if they can get a Fantasticar going.

Mama Doom has been watching her son and she is shocked at his behavior. She realizes that the misshapen creature beside him is Boris, her husband's best friend. "What kind of man have you become?" Doom restores Boris to human, and explains to his mother that he plans to change Hell to paradise. He begins with the castle which he returns to its normal opulence. The FF crash through the wall flying a Fantasticar that looks like everything else does in Hell. After quickly routing a few Doombots, the FF face Doom. Ben tells Cynthia that Doom hasn't just come to Hell -he's brought the entire Earth here.

Doom roars with anger and throws himself at Ben. His gauntlets crackle with energy. He is tearing Ben apart. The rest of the FF try to restrain him. Sue projects a field to separate Ben from Doom and a second thicker one to protect them from him. It's not going to hold for long. Reed says that they have to get to the console. How can they keep Doom away? "A pentagram!" Sue's isn't carrying lipstick. Reed has an idea but they'll need Cynthia's help. "My son..." she says sadly, then agrees. Reed orders the FF to form a pentagon with each of them forming a corner and Cynthia, who is standing by the console, forming the fifth corner. "Hurry. please," Says Sue, whose shield is withering under Doom's attack. Reed stretches his arms around and through them forming a pentagram. Sue drops her shield. Doom rushes forward but is barred by the pentagram. "Mother, no!" Reed asks her if she understands what she's doing. She does. "Victor, never again do evil in my name." She pulls the lever...

...And reality shatters. The Earth returns to its place in real space. Things and people regain their normal appearance. And inside Castle Doom...

Everything is as it was. Doom's robes are green again, the FF stand in their positions in the pentagram and Cynthia is gone. Reed's warp projector is on the floor forever closing the doorway to Hell. Doom sinks to his knees, throws back his head, and screams.

Sometime later, the FF visit the real Jewel in her boarding house. The current college residents swarm them in the lobby. The real Jewel appears and announces to everyone that these are 'her kids' and that she's proud of them. She always has been.

#reed richards #mr fantastic #victor von doom #doctor doom #fantastic four #johnny storm #human torch #ben grimm #reference material #text #the thing #susan storm #invisible woman #cynthia von doom #storm siblings

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