#Extremis virus

[elgaberino-mcoc]

As part of a series of content celebrating potential future Champs (i.e., Marvel characters not yet added to Marvel Contest of Champions) seen in Marvel holiday media, Coldblood-7 has been added as an “obscure pairing” on a listing on the MCOC Wishlist.

[therealdisneyfan2319]

The Spider and The Witch Chapter 4: The Mission and The Mistake

Summary: As Y/N's time with the Avengers comes to a close, Tony wants him to get some firsthand experience by joining the team on a mission.

Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x Male Reader

Warnings: Mild language

Word Count: 2.5K

A/N: Sorry for the sporadic posting. I've been dealing with a lot of personal stuff that hasn't given me the mental capacity to write or do anything really. The urge to write has been extremely low and I don't really want to anymore. I'm hoping it's just a phase and that I'll be able to power through and keep writing. In the meantime, enjoy chapter 4 :)

“No.  Absolutely not.  He’s not ready, Tony.  He’s not coming.”

“He’ll be fine.  We’ll make him our water boy.”

“Who’s going to watch him?  Are we supposed to get a babysitter?”

“He’s got Karen, she’ll keep him out of trouble.”

The back and forth between Steve and Tony drolled on as you zoned out.  You were due back in Manhattan at the end of the week and you were more than excited to get back to late night study sessions and chemical equations.  The past month at the Compound was a transformative experience in so many ways, but you didn’t particularly enjoy it all too much.  It was difficult making friends with the rest of the team.  Bucky was the closest thing you could consider a friend seeing as you spent every morning in the weight room with him, Natasha coming in at a close yet still distant second.  Most evenings you spent alone in your room, frozen vegetables strategically spread over your battered body and the faintest image of your corpse being magically driven by the Scarlet Witch in the corners of your mind. 

Being an Avenger wasn’t what you wanted.  If anything this experience further solidified your decision to pursue medicine.  But Tony didn’t want you to leave without getting some real-life experience.  There was a mission planned for the end of the week.  Rogue A.I.M. agents had been tracked to a secure facility in Washington, D.C. where they were planning on stealing the last remaining samples of the Extremis virus.  The mission was simple: get in, get out, ensure the sample’s safety.  It was going to require all hands on deck.  A month of training had given you rudimentary Spider-Man skills.  You didn’t think that you would be useful, but Tony obviously thought otherwise.

“Tony, Steve’s got a point.  He’s only been here a month,” Natasha added.  “What if he gets caught up in a mess?  We can’t have eyes everywhere all at once.”

“There’s going to be more than enough of us to make sure that he’s got backup if he needs it,” Tony explained, rubbing his temples.  

“Look, I don’t have to go.  That’s more than okay with me,” you interrupted.  A dozen heads abruptly turned in your direction.  It felt like everyone forgot you were actually in the room.

“You’re going and that’s final, young man,” Tony snapped.  “I’ll keep him under my watch.  He won’t cause any problems.”

“And what if someone gets hurt?  Then what, Tony?” Steve asked. 

“He won’t get anyone hurt.  Well, except maybe some bad guys, but that’s okay.  You won’t hurt anyone, Y/N.  Right?”  You quickly nodded.  “See, look, he just promised he won’t.  Case closed, he’s coming, see you all tomorrow.”

Great.

******

Spandex clung to you a little too tight as you sat in the very back of the Quinjet.  Maybe it was the anticipation of your first mission, but everything felt a little too tight, a little too warm, and a little too loud as you flew towards D.C.  You nestled up into the back corner, cool metal radiating through your suit and feebly working at cooling your skin.  The apprehension about your first mission was one you’d never felt before: it was like the anticipation of a final exam dialed up to an eleven.  While you could always retake a course if you failed, there were no do-overs if you messed up on the mission.  A sense of dread looming over you, you failed miserably at relaxing into your seat.

“So,” You looked up as Tony plopped down next to you, “how are you feeling?”  You shrugged.  “Nervous?”  You shrugged again. “Everyone’s first time is a little nerve wracking.  Performance anxiety’s a killer.  Hey, did you know that one out of every-”

“Where exactly are you going with this, Mr. Stark?”

“Here’s the deal: we’ll drop in, you hang back.  We’ll call you when we need you.  Water cooler’s over there.” He motioned to the orange cooler resting in the opposite corner.  

“So that’s it?  Just swing in with the water and swing out?”  

“Pretty much,” Tony nodded.  “I just want you to get a smidge of experience before you get out of here.  Nothing too crazy, maybe have you shoot a web at a building or a tied-up bad guy.”  He clapped you on the shoulder rather awkwardly.

“Thanks,” you replied.

“Look alive, kid.  We’ll be heading in soon.”

While Tony turned to address the group, you found yourself deep in your own world.  Logically you understood that the likelihood of being in danger was extremely low.  Even so, images of Peter’s final fight flashed through your mind.  The last thing you wanted was to end up like him.  You also felt incredibly unprepared.  These were literal superheroes fighting literal bad guys.  It wasn’t your wrestling room, faux-city training sessions with Tony’s drones: this was the real deal.  Things could go very wrong and people could get hurt.  While Tony asserted his confidence in you, you doubted your own instincts.  Your “spidey sense” was still faulty in the sense that it was difficult to tell what was a true threat and what was a false alarm.  If you couldn’t trust your own superpowers, how could anyone rely on you to get the job done?

“You get all that, kid?” Tony’s voice snapped you back to reality.

“Huh?” you answered, jerking your head towards him.  “Uhh, yeah.  Yeah.  Let’s do this.”

Natasha chuckled, shaking her head as she tossed Clint some more trick arrows.  “This is gonna go well,” she muttered.  

******

“Rogers to base, we are over the drop zone,” Steve called over the radio.

“This is base.  Area secured, you are all clear,” the agent’s voice crackled over the other end of the radio.  “I repeat, you are a go.”

Steve stood up, placing his headset on the dashboard before turning to address the group.  “You all know your parts, let’s get the job done.”  Bucky snapped off an exaggerated salute as Steve rolled his eyes.  

“Once we land, you’ll-”

“Stay on the ship, I got it,” you interrupted as Tony tried to remind you yet again of your inaction on the mission.

“Call if something catches fire,” he instructed, his nanosuit deftly encapsulating his body.  

As the ship landed, you hugged the back wall as everyone departed.  Steve, Bucky, Natasha, and Clint took off toward the main bunker where the virus was being held.  Wanda and Pietro would secure the perimeter while Tony, Sam, and Rhodey took to the sky to keep an overhead watch.  Sighing, you slumped down, clutching the silky mask in your hands and watched the mission unfold in real-time over the holographic display.  Steve’s crew expertly navigated the maze of buildings and security measures as they trekked toward the holding facility.  Wanda hovered overhead, observing Pietro dash wildly around the entire complex.  He was a mere blur against the grainy screen, barely visible to the naked eye.  Even higher were the three flyers: stationary yet constantly scanning for threats.  

So far, so good, you thought.  No enemy agents had been spotted, making this retrieval of Extremis easy.  Standing up and stretching your arms overhead, something caught your attention on the bottom of the screen.  A small shadow flickered near one of the other buildings.  It was difficult to make out what it was at first.  As you studied it further, your eyes straining against the low video quality, your heart started to race: a group of A.I.M. agents had somehow made it through all of the Avengers’ defenses.  Regardless, they were slinking their way towards Steve and his crew were retrieving the virus.

“Karen, I need to talk to Mr. Stark,” you shouted as you pulled the mask down over your face.

“Hold on, I’ll connect you,” Karen’s quasi-robotic voice politely responded. 

“Fire extinguisher’s right under the-”

“There’s a bunch of bad guys heading toward the south entrance of the building where Cap is, Mr. Stark!” you exclaimed somewhat aggressively.

“What?  You sure?”

“I just saw them on the video feed.  There’s, I don’t know, maybe half a dozen of them?”

“Armed?”

“Yeah-?  At least I think so.”

“Well, you spotted them.  Finders, keepers, so why don’t you swing on in?”  Your heart lurched, as did your stomach.  You were being called into action.  

“Karen, I guess we’re going in,” you sighed, tugging at your mask.

“Would you like to activate instant kill?” she asked.

“No.  No, I’m good.  Let’s…let’s just see what happens, I guess-?”  Taking a deep breath, you jogged off the ship toward the commotion.  Your jog quickly morphed into a sprint as you eyed the nearest tall object.  An oversized gate post became your target as you flicked your wrist, a silky white web launching out and attaching itself to the concrete structure while you used your momentum to propel yourself into the air.  

The weightless feeling of web-slinging wasn’t one you particularly cared for.  You hated roller coasters and anything of the like.  The inevitable lurch and stomach drop were two sensations that were extremely unnerving.  At least while swinging you could control whenever the weightless sensation occurred.  

As you crested in mid-air, no webs to tether you to solid ground, you shot another web to the side of a building, pulling yourself closer and closer to your foe.  The rhythmic thwip and release of your webs and the wind whooshing past your ears was unusually calming: it calmed your overactive senses and focused you on your objective.  

“Karen, can we get a location on the bad guys?” you asked as you landed somewhat awkwardly on the side of one of the robust brick buildings.  

“Targets are in the building directly to the southeast.  They’re heading north toward the building where Captain Rogers is.”

“How many are there?”

“Eight, but there could be more.  I’m not able to scan inside the buildings.  That building’s walls are lead-lined.”

“Okay, umm, guess I’ll just follow them-?”

“Would you like to activate instant kill before you start moving?”

“What is it with you and that goddamn instant kill, Karen?” you gritted.  As you stuck to the wall, postulating what your next move was, you felt something whoosh by you: it was the flyers.  Rhodey and Sam were nosediving directly toward the agents, Redwing following closely behind them.  Tony fell back and drifted over toward you.

“Nice job,” he complimented as his helmet flipped up. “We can take care of it from here, but if you wanna hop down and shoot a web at them just to kick a little extra sand in their face, be my guest.”

“Sounds good,” you responded.

“Great!  I’ll let you know when we’re ready for you.”  He flipped his helmet back down, his hand propulsers firing him toward the fight on the ground.  Steve and his team had joined in, fighting and easily overpowering the A.I.M agents.  You smirked underneath your mask.  As much as you didn’t like being part of the Avengers, it was pretty cool to see them kicking butt.  Clint was shooting off trick arrows that were exploding and dropping nets.  Steve had one of them cornered, using his shield to keep another one at bay while Natasha roundhouse kicked him.  Bucky was shooting in every which way.  It was reminiscent of a Fourth of July celebration.  The colorful fireworks and booming explosions were replaced with the hazy smoke and echoing pops of gunfire.  The sulfuric scent of the powder overpowered your scent even though you were stories in the air.  Yet as the scene wore on, your spidey sense told you something was off.  

“Hey Karen, can you scan the area again?”  The eyes of your mask narrowed as you slowly circled your head around the perimeter.  “Wait, hold on, what’s that?” you asked, the hair on the back of your neck standing up as something spooked your senses.

“Three more agents, heading up the southwest corridor.”

“Shit!”  The rest of the team was directing all their attention to the primary group of agents.  There was no way they’d be able to see these other three.  But there were only three.  The odds were in your favor and you could probably deal with them long enough for Tony to fly over and give you a hand.  “Karen, if they get into that building they’re gonna take the samples…shit.”  Time you spent contemplating what to do was time wasted in the grand scheme of stopping anything bad from happening.  Taking a deep breath, you lept from the building, aiming your webs as close to the targeted building as possible: it stuck.  You swung forward with all your might.  

Your field of view narrowed and sharpened as the three assailants drew closer to you.  Hoping they didn’t sense your incoming presence behind them, you shot a web at the one furthest from you.  It snared his legs and he hit the ground with a loud yelp.  The other two whipped around, their guns pointed straight at you.

“You know, I’d like to get home in one piece,” you quipped as you trapped the next one to the wall of the building just as you landed on it yourself.  He stuck to the wall just as you landed against it.  The man yelled in protest, so you webbed his mouth shut.  The third assailant sprinted on, firing sporadically at you as he ran past the building.  The bullets pinged off the building, chunks of brick popping off in every which way.  Somehow you could tell where the bullets would land before they did: chalk one up for Spidey sense.  

“Nope,” you shouted.  The assailant dodged and weaved as you shot burst after burst at him.  His luck quickly ran out.  You awkwardly trapped him on the yellow bollard set alongside the sidewalk.  The angle of your webs caught him on the butt.  It left him wriggling like a worm.  

The sight of three rogue agents caught in your trap unexpectedly filled you with a sense of smug satisfaction.  Maybe you weren’t as helpless as you and everyone else thought.

“Hey Karen, can you let Mr. Stark know about these guys?” you asked.  Just then a wild dust cloud tore towards you: it was Pietro.  The dust settled around him as he stopped, his hair whipping wildly in the remnants of his self-contained cyclone.  His blue shirt, drenched with sweat and dirt, clung to his heaving chest as he caught his breath.

“Did you do…this?” Pietro asked, motioning to the three captives with his finger.

“Yeah,” you yelled, jumping down from the wall.  “Karen’s gonna let Mr. Stark know about them.”

“Nice,” Pietro grinned as he pushed a strand of hair from his face.  “I’ll go back in and double check on everything.  Make sure it’s all safe, you know?”  He turned on the spot and jogged toward the door.  You were a fair distance back from the building watching Pietro head inside when you saw it: the thug you strapped to the wall managed to wiggle his hand to his utility belt, get his hands on a grenade, and, much to your horror, pull the pin as Pietro opened the door to the pressurized building.

[justahumblememefarmer]

Ultimate Doctor Who Poll Round 1 - Matchup 24

Episode Summaries under the cut

128: The Pyramid at the End of the World - Season 10, Episode 7: After the Doctor received a message from his virtual self in the Extremis simulation, Bill is taken by the United Nations Secretary General to meet with The Doctor, who has been temporarily named the President of Earth. A 5,000 year old pyramid has appeared in Turmezistan, at a key military point between the U.S., Russia, and China. In the meantime at a biochemical lab, two workers are shown going mixing chemicals. As one worker broke her glasses, she asks her coworker, who is hungover, to do it. The Monks watch this through a security camera. The hungover scientist accidentally enters 10 times the amount of one chemical into the mixture.

The Doctor greets a Monk at the Pyramid, who says that his race will be invited to enslave the Earth, and sets all clocks on the world to a doomsday clock. The Doctor allows the military to attack the pyramid, but the Monks teleport any weapons launched at them a safe distance away, and teleport the ships and their crews to be safely on the ground. They then invite the Doctor and the world leaders to talk. They claim the end of life on Earth has begun, and that they will stop it if they submit to the Monks rule.

At the biochemical lab, the scientist realizes that something has gone badly wrong with the formula, but in his panic, he does not properly close the airlock door.

The Doctor deduces that the Monks placed the pyramid in a war zone as a distraction, and that war will not be what destroys the Earth. They question whether bacteria could be the cause. Looking into potential sources, the Doctor decides to send a signal to all the security at biochemical labs across the world, and sees which one the Monks turn back on. He then goes to the lab, where one human has already been infected and several plants used for study have died. The Doctor realizes the lab has a filtration system to take toxins out of the air which would release the virus into the atmosphere. The only way to stop it is to destroy the lab.

The Monks deny several requests from world leaders for help as their request is impure, but recognize Bill's authority as a representative of the Doctor. She stalls for time as the Doctor works on the bomb, but he gets stuck in the airlock, and is unable to activate the release code due to his blindness. Realizing the Doctor will die if she does not do this, she makes a deal with the Monks to restore the Doctors sight. He escapes, and the Monks take control of the planet.

129: The Eaters of Light - Season 10, Episode 10: The Doctor takes Bill and Nardole back in time to investigate what happened to the missing 9th Roman Legion. They separate to look for the soldiers. Bill is chased by a Pictish girl and falls into a hole where a Roman soldier is hiding. The Doctor and Nardole come upon a Roman corpse, which suffered from decades of lack of exposure to the sun. He thinks that there is an alien on Earth that is either eating or harvesting solar energy. They go to find Bill, but are ambushed by the Picts, who take them prisoner.

Bill and the Roman are attacked by the creature, and the soldier she was with is killed as they make their way to the rest of his comrades. The Doctor and Nardole escape from the Picts, one of whom is their "gatekeeper" who claims to have defeated the Romans. The Doctor sees a stone structure and as the sun rises, a portal opens and he walks into it. He sees several creatures, then walks back out to find Nardole chatting with the Picts, who tells him that it's been two days. Speaking to Kar, the gatekeeper, she reveals that her people have been guarding the gate and fighting off the monsters as they came through, once a generation, but that she let one out to destroy the 9th legion. She claims that it is weak and will die soon, but the Doctor counters that it is getting stronger the more it consumes.

Bill leads the Romans to the Picts and the Doctor. The Doctor extends his translation technology to allow them to speak to each other. They agree to work together to fight the creature, and lure it back to the portal. So far the gatekeepers stalling it for a few minutes in there leads to 60-70 years of peace outside. He originally plans to enter and keep the beast at bay, with his extended lifespan allowing him to keep the creature at bay for much longer. However the Picts and Romans declare it is their responsibility and enter the portal instead. So many people going in destabilizes it, closing it forever.

[ronearoundblindly]

The Stark Legacy (29)

Tony Stark's daughter x Bucky Barnes epic slowburn

Logic, Part of Book III: Power (see previous or series)

Summary: Samantha finally admits she used a version of Extremis to save Sam Wilson's life. Tony's attempts to punish his daughter don't exactly work.

Warnings for rough parenting, verbal fighting (out of love but they don't know how), and flirty/fun bonding. Rated Teen/15+ ONLY, please. WC 4k

CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE—July 2039

Shirtless and a little cold, Bucky sat in a lab with someone poking and prodding at his arm…again. Tony and Samantha stood arguing over him, radiating the same stubborn righteousness. 

Tony mumbled critiques of Bucky’s impeccably detailed arm, each proving moot upon inspection or a single-phrase reason from its designer. Bucky watched Sam’s shoulders raise, her back shrinking with each backhanded compliment. She was defensive, but for his part, Bucky thought she should be proud. He had no complaints, save for the one time Tony continued to harp on.

“But the neural overload of being hit by Thor’s lightning…?” Tony jabbed again.

“Corrected by a tissue-specific Extremis, locally injected, as you witnessed,” Sam answered.

Tony hovered over the shoulder, wearing magnifiers. “You got lucky,” he scoffed finally.

“No, I didn’t.” Sam backed towards the far chairs, tired and avoiding eye-contact. “It was engineered to die after one proliferation. Captain Barnes was never in danger of infection.”

 “So you admit it’s an infection?” Her father straightened, bouncing a reflex tool off of Bucky’s elbow to measure the flinch. There was no point to it, but Tony always enjoyed making Bucky furrow his brow in annoyance. “Do you know how many things could have gone wrong with an adaptive virus like that?”

Sam’s nostril’s flared. “It worked on Wilson, didn’t it?” 

The room filled with lead. Tony dropped the tool, eyes wide. “Excuse me,” he breathed. 

A light clicked on so ferociously in his mind it made Bucky’s eye twitched. Her concern on our flight to Wakanda, testing Wilson with cards during training…A surge of irritation for not connecting it sooner swept through him.

Sam broke the heavy silence. “I knew the neural-isolated virus would work on Big Sam because I’d already used a dermal version on myself. He wasn’t getting better. Steve told me you all had as good as given up.”

So Steve had to have pieced together what she’d done… This meant she had already used Extremis on herself before that day in the woods. Sam knew exactly what she carried around with her. She had pointed for him to use it. She was exactly as brilliant as Tony and just as self-destructive. He watched her closely in the quiet.

“And Buc—Barnes’s enhanced nerve cells just hadn’t adjusted to the magnification effects of vibranium—” stares followed every move of her anxious hands “—so I…aided their rapid adaptation.”

Bucky tried to help. “And now I’m fine, so we are all good.”

“You experimented on a member of this team?” Tony’s face went purple, several veins dangerously pulsing with every word. “Without his permission? In this building?”

Bucky distinctly remembered Tony saying they had run out of viable therapies. 

Sam rang her hands. “You lied to me,” she spat, “at the wedding you told me he would be fine. Of course I tried everything—I tried more than you did.”

“So you graduated to organ and limb replacement—”

“—treatment—”

“—after one success? That’s ridiculous. That’s reckless.” Tony almost charged at Samantha. She leaned towards him, unafraid. Bucky couldn’t get between them this time.

“How was I supposed to know Buck would get hit by 30,000 amps in a newly connected neuron path?” Sam threw up her arms in Tony’s face. “Even if he had his metal arm, you can’t just dial people up to eleven.”

Tony buckled. “That—” he shouted, waving a finger in his daughter’s face “—that movie is a classic.” He took a long moment to swallow a boulder of pride. 

Sam teetered, eyes darting around from place to place. She had no more reference ammunition.

Bucky sat still as stone, waiting for the accusations of personal endangerment and downright stupidity certain to come, but Tony shifted. His muscles slacked. The crinkling around his eyes smoothed, and Stark turned to Bucky, dismissing him with a pat on the back. 

“You’re done. You’ll survive.” Tony shoved his sleeves up his arms. ”You can go, too, Sass.”

Her neck tensed, lip twitching again, jaw tight as a wire about to snap, but Sam made it out the doors before Tony could even turn around. Standing, Bucky grabbed his shirt, surprised she let Tony have the last word. 

Before Bucky pulled the fabric over his head, however, Tony made his way over to whisper, “other than her ass on that chair behind that screen, nobody discusses Avengers’ business with her. Got it?” Tony pointed to Banner, who stood frozen with a look of utter bewilderment. “Good talk.”

Life at Headquarters attempted normalsy after weeks of changes following Tony’s return. Sam Wilson retired to permanently train new recruits. Steve Rogers returned to the quiet life in the hills, regularly asking Tony if he wished to join him and Sharon for a day. Tony declined and joked about needing to be the center of attention. Not enough cameras. No reason to wear a suit, iron or three-piece.

The dynamics at HQ were shifting, but they needed to, fast. 

Standing inches from a glass wall overlooking busy workers, Stark hoped his outer appearance betrayed nothing of the deep fatigue weighing his insides. He recovered from space-sickness months ago; something more sinister plagued him now.

Bruce Banner sat with Samantha at a far station, several projected screens in front of the doctor while Sam sat quietly ‘being instructed.’ She remained safe at what amounted to an incredibly expensive cubicle with the world’s most over-qualified tutor. Tony convinced himself that Sam felt included doing busy work at the computer.

“I don’t like people handing me things,” Tony grunted, spurning an offering from Maria Hill.

The agent rolled her eyes. “You have taken files from me before, Stark.”

“Well—” he shrugged “—I’m an enigma. Humor me. What’s the lay of the land?”

Maria dropped the files on the shining steel table with a thud, glancing across the room. 

“Shield teams are on every continent dealing with outlying threats or suspected D-Lite transformations. We’ve got alerts out to all morgues to check all overdose victims for traces of the drug to see the scope of its distribution, but not everyone has the resources to test.” Maria sighed. The Director of Operations withheld the current estimated death toll from her briefing. Bruce mentioned to Tony it had reached over one thousand since Cloak and Dagger survived the drug. “Three aquatic inhumans have been assigned to Atlantis to help Namor. Still no sign of Victor Von Doom, but we’ve been unable to search Latveria—”

“Why not?” Tony cocked an eyebrow.

“Diplomatically, it’s a non-starter seeing as we are basically accusing the country of being complicit in harboring an enemy of state—our state, that is.”

Which they are, he thought. He missed the old days of smash-and-grab, asking for forgiveness after he got what he wanted. Iron Man had no nation as Earth’s savior; he landed wherever, whenever…before the Accords.

“Their rep’s language is vague, but it sounds as if our targets are some sort of national treasure. The country’s GDP and living standard have increased remarkably over the last decade. Our enemies are Latveria’s heroes. The people seem to revere Doom.”

“Heroes plural?”

“Again, it’s vague, but they emphasize that no citizens will be considered for extradition whether we have proof of crimes or not. The UN Inhuman Oversight Committee has no jurisdiction. Latveria never signed the Accords and holds no official participation.”

“Where are they getting all this cash, all that industry?” Bruce face sank, his eyes darkened with concern.

Director Hill shrugged, adding only “unknown.”

Sam chirped to attention across the room. “Did we consider the doctor was trying to access vibranium for the benefit of his people?”

Tony shot her down. “We don’t need to give this guy the benefit of the doubt—”

“So motivation isn’t important?”

“We don’t rationalize crazy.”

“Sorry, Tony,” Bruce interrupted, “but we do if it helps figure out motive. We can use it to figure out where he went.”

“So, what’s a substance like vibranium most helpful in use for?” Sam continued. “Weapons? Infrastructure? Medicine? Do we know how much he wanted? Is there an alternative material he may go after?”

“He wasn’t prepared to physically carry much alone over a sea,” Tony thought aloud.

“Adamantium,” Bruce added, “but it’s a poor substitute in certain applications.”

“Has any source of that been attacked?”

Maria flipped open one file. “Nothing. Wanda is with the X-Men, has been for a while, and there’s been no action against their facility, even with teams away on missions consistently.”

Sam sat back in her chair, twiddling her finger clipped inside a monitor attached to an electrified wire. Today’s experiment. “So what did Doctor Doom get that replaced his need for vibranium? Could he have gotten it from somewhere else?”

Tony fitfully paced along the windows. “You are not an agent. Eyes on your screen, Killian-two.”

Sam’s lips tightened in frustration. Her physical training had come to an abrupt halt after Tony woke from his first decent night’s sleep on Earth. She was relegated to sit silently beside Bruce and answer only when asked a question. In her newly free time, Tony allowed Hill to use Sam to check positioning orders. It may have been equivalent to assigning a supercomputer basic algebra, but her mother had been good at it. Why shouldn’t Sam? Sam stayed during a brief only because he was currently testing electromagnetic resonance to disrupt her energy production.

“She has a point,” Maria jumped in. “We originally thought he was trying to update his own shielding with vibranium but if he wanted to do something else…”

“And why did he approach so obviously? Like he wanted to fight you guys,” Sam added.

“Don’t you have a caffeine addiction to feed?” Tony snapped.

 Sam stood and fired a small ball of plasma from her left hand into the steel waste bin inches away from Tony’s leg. It smoked as he turned away, defeated. Current running across her skin caused no disruption. Test failed. Next theory.

“Yeah, I can do that too,” Tony mumbled.

Smug atop her high horse, Sam shifted on her feet. “Without a suit?”

Maria rolled her eyes before they landed on Bruce. “I don’t need to be here for this. Call me if you think of anything else,” she grumbled while walking out.

“You know, I pioneered the functional use of clean energy.” Tony’s chest puffed farther out.

Unamused, Sam’s eyes went wide and her mouth gaped. “No shit? That’s so cool. What’d you say your name was again?”

He clucked his tongue. “Makes me feel a tad disrespected when you speak to me like that.”

“Said everyone who’s ever spoken to you.”

A snort sounded beside her. “Damn it, now there’s two of you,” Bruce murmured, stifling a cough before dismissing himself for a break. 

“And that’s lunch,” Sam said, skirting the table towards the door. “Your bull makes me hungry.”

“Burns calories. Keeps me trim.” Tony slapped his stomach and followed her out. “A burger does sound good.”

She shrugged. “Ty’s got me hooked on cereal now. I mean, I crave it—”

“Also your Hogwarts letter came today,” Tony added, pulling the opened card from his pocket. “Trash can comes out of your allowance.”

Tony walked beside Sam to the kitchen, reciting the fancy cursive words on the oversized page by memory.

Samantha Stark

7am October 5th, 177A Bleeker Street. 

Sorcerer Supreme, Dr. Steven Strange

“Notice how he took twice as much space for his own name. Classic Strange. If you learn any party tricks, be sure to teach me.”

Sam stood firm in a familiar hallway, torn between working her station by Bruce or being alone in her room. Both options made Sam want to cry in boredom.

The gorgeous, strawberry-blond looked back at her from the frame on the wall. Virginia Potts’ dazzling smile, the delicate height of rosy cheeks, and beautiful blue eyes taunted Sam. Her mother looked effortless, radiant, calm. Hung among all sixty-eight portraits, Pepper still stood out in a crowd.

Sam could see that maybe their eye shape was similar, perhaps the fullness of their lips, possibly their jawline. She could remember her mother’s bubbly nature, a story time or two, the gentle sweep of hair across her face when Pepper leaned to kiss her goodnight. It tickled. It tickled her still, the thought of that kind of proximity. Sam sometimes imagined it was Pepper when the room was dark and Laura Barton called ‘sleep tight’ to her.

Pep put out fires for Tony. She said no to him. She put up with years of one-night stands. He paid closer attention to those women than her, even if momentarily…

Sam imagined what advice Pepper would give her now. Consistency, sweetheart, perhaps, and then he’ll see you. But Pepper herself was all Tony ever truly wanted. Nothing Sam could ever do would matter as much.

Her fingers went limp in her daydream, releasing Strange’s invitation to flutter to the grey floor. As she picked the paper back up, Sam had the urge to rip it apart. This wasn’t what she wanted; this wasn’t worth any of the hell she’d gone through. Sam couldn’t sit behind a screen behind Dr. Banner behind the enormous umbrella corporation behind her father. That wasn’t her place.

She was no fighter, and there was never anything mystical about her. Sam would disappoint Strange just as she disappointed Tony.

“Hey.”

Sam startled, spinning around.

“Sorry,” Bucky added, reaching out to help her balance, “I’ve got you. Almost didn’t find you. You weren’t in the lab.”

Sam tried to focus after lost so deep in thought. “Nope.”

Bucky smiled. “Okay, Sass, I had an idea. You game?”

Sneaking a glance back at Pepper’s portrait, Sam haplessly nodded, shrugged, and shook her head all at once. She never knew what she should do at any given time these days. Missy would know, but Sam didn’t.

The pure joy on her face distracted him from the scalding splatter of beef fat on his arm.

“Look! The grill marks are in the shape of my palm,” Sam exclaimed.

“Be careful with that,” Bucky cautioned to her outstretched hand. Cooking seemed a safe activity for Sam to participate in, one of which he assumed Tony would approve, and it proved equally entertaining to Bucky. Everyone eats, and as Sam pointed out, learning to make her father’s favorite from scratch could only help her.

The novelty of Sam’s skin reaching a high enough surface temperature to cook the meat wore off on Bucky much faster than Sam. Seeing her so excited held its luster though. As always when he’d found her, she hadn’t eaten.

Sam slapped down her first charred patty with glowing pride. I could make a habit of this, Bucky thought, I might have to. Ever since Tony and Bruce panicked at Samantha’s confession of injecting Wilson with Extremis, whatever version of it, Wilson was unceremoniously ‘retired,’ moved to D.C. to work with engineers of projects following his upgraded EXO-7. This left Bucky without a partner and benched to do his own worst nightmare—PR.

Public relations made Bucky long for the days of hiding in Romania, speaking to no one, and sitting alone in an apartment in the dark. That was preferable to the flashing cameras, every so often being shrieked at by an over-excited ‘fan.’ Uncomfortable didn’t cover the feeling, a fact Samantha noticed.

“Saw you on TV,” she offered, grabbing another patty. Her glance skittered away when Bucky looked up in question. “I’m sorry you have to do that. You look so miserable.” 

“I thought I pulled it off rather nicely.” Without the infiltration expertise of Natasha, Bucky was far more transparent than he hoped.

Sam snorted. “Sure. Oscar-worthy even.” She defiantly grabbed a potato chip with her free hand and popped it in her mouth, smirking just like her father when he coined a new nickname.  From what Bucky witnessed, the Stark duo were evenly matched in everything except pop-culture references and anecdotes about team members. 

Sam gnashed her teeth as if she’d been raised by monkeys. She flipped the burger like a pancake in her hand.

Her smugness reminded him how irritating Tony could be, and the surge of indignation caused Bucky to strike back, less playfully than intended. “You eat like a heathen.” 

Sam’s smile fell. She rummaged for small chips, eating piece by piece, becoming a model of dainty and quiet chewing. She changed into the type of delicate bird Bucky recently met on dates. That was not his intention, his valid observation surpassed by a twinge of pain seeing her deflating spirit.

“It’s a shame everyone now is so formal,” he said through a frown, hoping to be more convincing than promotional outings.

Sam furrowed her brow in question but remained focused on eating politely.

“I mean, these dates Sharon sets up, coffee and drinks. We just sit there. What happened to dancing or a hike or exploring a city? It’s stifling to not move around.”

“Doesn’t sound all that bad to sit still,” Sam offered before fully swallowing another chip, shoulders relaxing. “Picnics are outside but you’re sitting.” Slapping down the cooked burger, she tightened again when she noticed her manners. “How many you up to now?”

“Six.” In half as many months but also in twice as many years. “I’m a regular Casanova of the Coffee Shop.”

Sam snorted. “Librarians not doing it for you?”

“Four were—are agents,” Bucky said, mumbling, “but I’m here all the time when not on mission, so talk always circles back to work and clearance level and what she’s allowed to know. Then I have nothing else to talk about because this building—the job—is, unfortunately, my whole life.”

“There’s the door.” Sam pointed with her free hand. “You just said you wanted to get out there.”

“Yeah,” Bucky sighed, “Sharon said that.”

“So nothing sparked? Did you even try?” Sam fluffed the heap of lettuce beneath the cooked burgers. “Buck, you aren’t Quasimodo. This shouldn’t be that difficult for you.”

“She said that, too.”

Sam raised her shoulders and hands, one still glistening with grease, waiting for an explanation. 

Bucky mimicked her gesture. He had no reply, but the corner of his mouth twitched when he heard her call him ‘Buck.’ She’d done it before, but he couldn’t pinpoint when it started. It was nice, friendly and familiar as when Steve said it, comforting.

Sam sighed a few more times while washing her hands and holding up the plate for Bucky to remove the other patties from the heat.

“Odd question,” she said finally, “are you unhappy?”

“What? No. We both…were alone for so long, Steve just wants the same companionship for me that he’s found.”

The eyebrows raised again as Sam waited for more of an answer that never came. Then she set down the plate to say, “I may not have much experience with…people, but I never saw the appeal. I may have been unhappy with myself at times, but no person brought me out of that. If they had, that would be unfair to hang my happiness on them. Personally, I don’t believe that’s what love is for.”

At 18 years old Sam instantly became the wisest person in the building.

“But,” she added, “you also don’t want to end up like my father because that is just sad.” Sam looked Bucky dead in the eyes, saying “even Frankenstein’s monster had a bride.”

“Sam!” Tandy burst around the corner. “Found you. Oh gosh, smells great. You coming down for bowling? Ty’s setting up.” The blond huffed, out of breath from her excitement and race through the halls. Her gaze landed on Bucky. “You can come too if you bring the food.”

“Jeez, Dee, tell him your priorities,” Sam retorted but snapped up the plate all the same. She made no attempt to ask Bucky if he would join. “We’re in. Grab whatever fixings you want from the fridge.”

Bucky couldn’t argue; after making a big deal about not having activities, bowling qualified as another safe and normal pastime. He followed with the chips.

He did not prepare himself for the contrast between the sage wisdom Samantha had laid forth in the kitchen and the crouching form centered in the lane, heaving a ball from between her legs. It was truly painful to watch and yet utterly hysterical.

He laughed until tears ran down his cheeks.

“Everyone’s a critic,” Sam grumbled, planting hands on her hips as she stood up. “You don’t like my granny-roll?”

Bucky could barely get out the words through choked breaths. “Why…why can’t… you just…throw it normally?”

Sam opened her mouth to make some indignant reply but was cut short by a third, neutral party.

“We found out the hard way—” Tyrone indicated a sloppily patched hole in the wall above the pins “—that Sam cannot roll gently into that good lane.” Smiling, his air was tailor-made bombast aimed directly at his friend.

Sam rolled her eyes well enough. “Thank you, Winston.” She returned to her seat beside Bucky while Tandy bowled her frame. “It’s all or nothing with exerted force, it seems, but not the generated energy blasts. Those I can control pretty well now. It’s fascinating, but apparently not interesting enough to research since Tony’s return. I suspect it has something to do with extended direct contact with the vibranium in my skin since this is my dominant hand.” Sam’s rambling ended with a wiggle of the fingers on her right hand before she looked up.

Bucky zoned out somewhere in the middle, but he did manage to keep his expression focused enough that Sam was fooled. See, I’m ok at acting. I’m convincing.

Tandy dance-bowled across the lane, gracefully landing a seven-ten split. Tyrone gave a golf clap and picked up his ball of choice. They’d heard Sam’s theories before. Neither having a scientific bone in their bodies, no one responded.

Sam pushed her empty plate away and tucked her hands into her hoodie pocket.

“Have you ever tried,” Bucky delicately started, “talking like everyone else?”

Sam scoffed, adjusting her shoulders against the hard chair.

“What’s wrong with intelligence?”

Bucky felt the hair on his arm bristle in discomfort. “That’s not what I meant.”

“Well, that’s sure as shit what it sounded like. I’m not ladylike enough for you? Get in line. I’m not the one who wants ‘movement dates’ and a woman with a lizard pin. Be unique but not too unique. Jeez, with my loud eating, my granny-roll, even my scientifically curious thoughts—” Sam flatlined her hands in a sweeping motion “—then I’m…what? Indelicate? Uncouth? Unfriendly? So it’s my fault my father can’t stand me?”

Unable to stop himself, Bucky pressed his hands up to calm her, replying, “that was perhaps the most unladylike thing I’ve witnessed in fifty years. Please, I meant nothing else. I meant—” What the hell do I mean? “—communication is important to…listening can help friends relate to…common interests.” He couldn’t grasp his point. The smirk across his lips threatened to release his own indelicate snort as he imagined the slow, ridiculous move which he was sure to witness repeatedly.

Sam pursed her lips. “That was the most unintelligible thing I’ve ever heard…” she said under her breath, “but I listened to it.”

Tandy dressed another burger. “Hate to burst your bubble, Cap, but you can’t go back. She’ll tear you apart with logic. Better move on.” She cut it in half, Tyrone claiming the second half on his return to the table. Bucky noticed them move like yin and yang, perfectly in sync.

“Right,” Bucky mumbled. I suppose I can’t, for better or worse.

“You’re up.” Ty wiped the corner of his mouth. “Wasn’t there a dance where the men did just that b-between their legs to the woman?”

There was a dance like that, and Bucky remembered fondly that Miss Dot with her red eyed pin was the last partner he’d had for it.

“You know what that means,” Tandy giggled. “Go show us your granny-roll.”

[Chapter Thirty: Furnace]

[Main Masterlist; Light Masterlist; Ko-Fi]

[doolallymagpie]

well, i decided to start maybe working on Myrmidius Vitruvion's warband, and somehow talked myself into him having an ancient rivalry with an Ordo Hereticus Inquisitor's very long family line, stretching back to the Age of Apostasy

god(emperor)dammit, Abraham Hale, why'd you have to start having beef with the Icarian Techpriests? why'd you have to convince the Collegiate Extremis that this was a matter warranting virus-bombing and cyclonic warheads? now your fuckton-of-greats granddaughter Persephone (...the seventeenth) is a Xanthite and an Istvaanian, i hope you're happy

[polizwrites]

PoliZ’s Birthday Self Recs: Pepperony

Indulging myself in the week leading up to my birthday by sharing some  of my favorite MCU/Marvel fics I’ve written, grouped primarily  by  pairing/relationship.

Finishing up with Pepperony - aka  Pepper Potts/Tony Stark.  I’ve written  23 Pepper/Tony fics   and  three (but probably more)  that feature  Pepper & Tony.   Yes, it’s het and yes it’s canon ... and there are some aspects of their MCU relationship that might need work, but IMHO these two truly bring out the best in each other and want the other to be happy, which is a pretty important relationship goal.

Here  - in reverse chronological order  by pub date - are a few of my favorite Pepperony fics I’ve written, at least as of this moment.   If you’d like to know why I picked these particular ones, feel free  to send an ask, and if you go read them, I’d love to hear what you  think, either here or as a  comment on the fic!   Finally, a big shiny No Prize to anyone who  identifies the song that four of these titles came from!

Home of the Brave       

(General, historical AU with dragons [dragon!Steve & rider!Tony], 42,206 words) - Blacksmith and inventor Anthony Stark has convinced himself he is satisfied with his life.  A tragic accident cut his career as an aviator short, so he retreated to upstate New York and a hermit life.   He unintentionally becomes companion to a runty dragonet who is more than he seems, and it turns his life upside-down.  (NOTE:  The Pepperony is a secondary relationship to the  Steve & Tony one,  but plays a fairly significant role in the overall story)

The Sweetest Dream Will Never Do

(General, domestic fluff [mostly], 1300 words)  Tony and Pepper welcome their baby girl into the world;   Harley and Peter join in to celebrate with them.   Mind the warning/tags.

Seeing Red

 (Mature, IM3 canon-compliant, 1517 words) Pepper Potts thought she was falling to her death, but the Extremis virus in her system saved her.  Moments later, she finds herself taking a life.  This is what happens next.

Enumerations       

(General, domestic fluff, canon-compliant, 798 words) A soft, domestic moment with her husband reminds Pepper how lucky she is to have him and their soon-to-be daughter.  

You Give Me Reason To Live       

(Mature, sexy fluff, canon-compatible,  1896 words) Pepper has a very special (and not-so-private) gift planned for Tony.

As I Fall Into View       

(Teen, Post-Endgame grief/mourning, 798 words) - Pepper and Morgan find a way to honor their memories of their lost loved one.

Honorable mention goes to  The Lengths That I Will Go To , which is a Stony fic, but Tony and Pepper have a strong friendship, and I love the way this version of Pepper evolved throughout the story. 

[wormholxtreme]

Okay, I've got interested and went through 4 different blogs to find out who the fuck is Athan 😄😄😄😄😄 so Kaylee has a new boyfriend now?

Calling Athan a boyfriend iiiiis a bit much. @telipatia and I have been discussing 2 main verses and oooh boy are they full of woe.

Athan, the son of Pepper and Thanos was taken by Lady Death and raised to be her champion/general of her undead army. (I don't want to talk too much about Athan as he is not my character so go bother Rin about Athan specific questions)

Aaaaanyway. For a long time I've had a plot for Kaylee to have been marked with a seal of the apocalypse and given I follow 616 comics where Tony has the extremis virus that is in his DNA I have Kaylee have a mutation of Extremis that when her seal is broken she becomes Pestilence and Extremis is what drips from her hands and she infects people with it.

Well given Athan's connection to Lady Death Rin and I came up with that she destined Kay and Athan to be together and produce a child even more powerful for her nefarious uses. She had Kaylee taken when she was 4 and marked with the seal so years later when Kaylee broke the seal she'd be a match for Athan.

Then it gets messy after Kaylee is brought back to being herself whiiiich I'm not gonna go into xD

Then the other AU we've talked about is "arranged" marriage au between Titan and Kree. Which has a lot of different things going on in it.

So yeah Kathan is a new fun fire burning 7 plagues kinda ship but xD would not call Athan her boyfriend. We stick with baby daddy.

[stony-ao3-feed]

as a siren sings you to shipwreck

Read it on AO3

by meidui

Steve stands there in front of him, faint traces of Matt’s blood still smeared across the floors beneath his combat boots. Tony holds his gaze, hyperaware of the way his heart picks up speed because it's the first time he’s seen Steve since, well. He is a pleasing sight, exactly the way Tony remembers him.

Beautiful, intelligent, healthy, immortal.

“Did Pepper send you?” Tony asks, feverish bright blue eyes boring into him. “You look the same, Steve. Haven't you taken a sip of water since you got to San Francisco?”

“Extremis is a virus,” Steve says steadily. “I can’t get sick.”

A lot is different. A lot will never be the same. But Tony Stark will always love Steve Rogers.

Words: 4827, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English

Fandoms: Marvel 616, Iron Man (Comics)

Rating: Explicit

Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

Categories: M/M

Characters: Steve Rogers, Tony Stark, Pepper Potts, Matt Murdock

Relationships: Steve Rogers/Tony Stark

Additional Tags: Superior Iron Man Vol 1. (2015), Canon Divergence, Pining Tony Stark, Not Actually Unrequited Love, Emotional Manipulation, Captivity, Blowjobs, Hand Jobs, Edging, San Francisco, Angst with a Happy Ending

Read it on AO3

[ao3feed-stony]

as a siren sings you to shipwreck

by meidui

Steve stands there in front of him, faint traces of Matt’s blood still smeared across the floors beneath his combat boots. Tony holds his gaze, hyperaware of the way his heart picks up speed because it's the first time he’s seen Steve since, well. He is a pleasing sight, exactly the way Tony remembers him.

Beautiful, intelligent, healthy, immortal.

“Did Pepper send you?” Tony asks, feverish bright blue eyes boring into him. “You look the same, Steve. Haven't you taken a sip of water since you got to San Francisco?”

“Extremis is a virus,” Steve says steadily. “I can’t get sick.”

A lot is different. A lot will never be the same. But Tony Stark will always love Steve Rogers.

Words: 4827, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English

Fandoms: Marvel 616, Iron Man (Comics)

Rating: Explicit

Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

Categories: M/M

Characters: Steve Rogers, Tony Stark, Pepper Potts, Matt Murdock

Relationships: Steve Rogers/Tony Stark

Additional Tags: Superior Iron Man Vol 1. (2015), Canon Divergence, Pining Tony Stark, Not Actually Unrequited Love, Emotional Manipulation, Captivity, Blowjobs, Hand Jobs, Edging, San Francisco, Angst with a Happy Ending

source https://archiveofourown.org/works/42205017

[themattress]

I Grade: The Mandarin

Appearance: Neither characters that make up the Mandarin in Iron Man 3 actually look like the Mandarin from the comics. The front man played by Trevor Slattery (who is played by Ben Kingsley) looks more like an Islamic terrorist leader than an Asian one despite what his name would suggest, and the true mastermind Aldrich Killian (played by Guy Pearce) is just a guy in a business suit; his design based off Simon Kreiger whom he actually flat-out was in early drafts of the film. However, the former gets the job he’s doing done well enough, and the latter gains an edge when the shirt comes off and he reveals the stylish Fin Fang Foom tattoo adorning his bare chest. So I guess a middle-of-the-road grade is the best I can give here.

GRADE = 3

Performance: As the “fake” Mandarin, Ben Kingsley is fantastic, giving a gravelly-voiced performance that’s both kind of intimidating but also with an underlying silliness...and then the silliness, quite gloriously, becomes the entirety of the performance when Trevor Slattery’s true British-accented self is revealed. Guy Pearce is also phenomenal as the “real” Mandarin, being fittingly smug and smarmy before gradually revealing his terrifying inner madness.

GRADE = 5

Motivation: The worst part about the Mandarin is that both of them have highly lackluster motivations. Trevor Slattery just wants fame and money to buy drugs with, and Aldrich Killian is just a power-hungry psychopath for some sketchy reason about having felt weak and unappreciated by others in the past. There is nothing remotely compelling about them.

GRADE = 2

Villainy: But what the Mandarin lacks in interesting motives is more than made up for in engaging and depraved acts of villainy. A.I.M. the Extremis virus, military guinea pigs, one of Tony Stark’s past flings, the Ten Rings, the media, even the Vice President of the US are all different moving parts in a grand conspiracy to destroy Iron Man, steal all of his tech, and take over the country. Add to this a personal level of evil in how Tony and those closest to him are hurt, and you have a villainous threat that you really want to see get taken down hard.

GRADE = 5

Resolution: After an epic fight with Iron Man, the Extremis-powered Aldrich Killian is blown up by a furious, Extremis-powered Pepper Potts, and Trevor Slattery is arrested. While this is perfectly fitting endings for them, I must deduct a point for Trevor Slattery then being taken away from prison by agents of the Ten Rings to be brought before the true “Mandarin” in a 2014 short film follow-up, which then took seven whole years to receive a proper resolution.

GRADE = 4

Final Grade: 3.5; a true return-to-form in regards to villains for Iron Man to do battle with.

[fieldofhate]

I have an oc rn that's a friend of Morgan Stark's. They're a freak. They have some sort of connection to Red Room. One idea is later on in the timeline, like they're in their late 30s ish Morgan attempts to use extremis (a la superior iron man) to stop that Marvel Zombies virus thing. Oc is subjected to it while turning and it gets all fucked up. Oops it's Annihilation/The Thing/Venom style gender euphoria horror body. And also Morgs becomes Rescue. OC merges/takes over as compound AI, replacing or joining alongside or merging with or taking over FRIDAY or EDITH. Ok stay with me, Iron Maiden after Compound merge?

Another timeline they b Iron Widow but only when forced to be by circumstance. They're not a super hero type under other circumstances as they never think they're responsible enough and they're right. They're more of a passive force unless personally motivated. Also they're aro.

A normal everything's fine timeline: they meet tony stark multiple times before realizing that he's tony stark. Combination of dissociation and avoiding eye contact to the point where they just don't look at people even while in conversation. - One of their manic/delusional episode line up exactly with Tony's relapse. Oc steals his drink and Tony is too distracted trying to decipher oc insane rant to keep drinking. There is no logic to it. - they can in no way keep up with the Stark's Smart Talk they are genuinely a dunce but will occasionally recognize and relay seemingly at random, sporadical, very specific, detailed, disjointed facts/trivia relating to the topic. It's never been helpful.

Morgan and oc aren't best friends or anything they just in the same friend group. Depending on timeline they become closer later on.

They are often nonverbal.

[stuckyversebingo]

All hail @smutconnoisseur, the master of fic recs! ;) Thank you once again for giving us something to satisfy our Stucky werewolf fix.

Fang & Claw (29742 words) by cobaltmoony, Dizia Chapters: 8/8 Fandom: The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types, Captain America - All Media Types Rating: Explicit Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Steve Rogers, Minor or Background Relationship(s), Pepper Potts/Tony Stark, Maria Hill/Sam Wilson, Loki/Thor, Clint Barton/Natasha Romanov, Nakia (Black Panther)/T'Challa Characters: Steve Rogers, James "Bucky" Barnes, Sam Wilson, Maria Hill, Clint Barton, Natasha Romanov, Pepper Potts, Tony Stark, Wanda Maximoff, Peter Parker, Thor, Loki, T'Challa, Shuri, Okoye, M'Baku, Brock Rumlow, Jack Rollins, Ulysses Klaue, Grant Ward, Alexander Pierce, Arnim Zola, Johann Schmidt, Nakia, Erik Killmonger, Helmut Zemo, Bruce Banner Additional Tags: Stucky - Freeform, Omegaverse, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, ABO, Alpha Chief!Steve, Omega!Bucky, Alternate Universe - Werewolf, Alternate Universe - Vampire, Zoophilia kinda sorta, Consensual Sex, Enthusiastic Consent, Male Pregnancy, Male lubrication, Anal Sex, Anal Knotting, Oral Virginity, Oral Sex, Deepthroating, messy blow job, Face-Fucking, Oral Knotting, Possessive Sex, Possessive Behavior, top!steve, Bottom!Bucky, Scar Worship, Graphic depictions of violence - Freeform, Blood Drinking, Blood and Gore, Non-Consensual Body Modification, Dark!Steve, Werewolf!Steve, hybrid!bucky, Body Dysmorphia, Panic Attack, Dissociation, Minor Character Death, Pepper the Pyromaniac: an ode to the Extremis Virus, pack mentality, Pack Dynamics, steve's magical healing cock, lycanthropy, Fucked up imagery, Captain America Reverse Big Bang 2018, Cock Warming, Dom/sub Undertones, Author should see a shrink... probably, Dogs and cats living together, Mass hysteria!, Plot With Porn, Assume everyone is naked unless otherwise noted, Social nudity, Nudity, Art By CobaltMoony, NSFW art in Chapter 4, Competance Kink, Anal Rimming, Hair Pulling, mild body horror Summary:

Alpha Chief Steve and an Omega, Bucky were a mated pair of lycans; mated since they were old enough to be allowed to in the White Star tribe. When Bucky went missing, a suspected victim of a vampire attack, Steve grieved over him and their broken bond. He was sure Bucky was dead.

Years later, Steve leads his pack on an assault against the vampire coven responsible for his mate's death.

Inside, they discover a dungeon where a vampire is being tortured.

[angellyslion]

Fugue et retour

female Peter

J'ai fui mon père et les Avengers. Je suis partie de la tour il y a un an jour pour jour et ils me manquent terriblement. Durant cette année écoulée beaucoup de chose se sont produites. Je voulais revenir en arrière et rentrer à la maison, je ne pouvais pas le faire. Tout à changé et si je le fais ils me tueront sans me laisser le temps de me défendre. J'étais condamné à être une fugitive. Ils m'ont bloquée sur mes deux identité et si j'étais appercu sous une de mes formes, ils le seront. J'étais autant rechercher en tant que Spider-Man pour être une criminelle et en tant que Piper Stark seule fille et héritière de Stark et des Avengers. J'étais contente qu'ils ai gardé mon identité secrète. Mais il y avait des affiches placardée de partout dans la ville avec mon visage et les chaînes d'informations passent en boucles les deux affiches de recherches.

Peu de temps avant ma fugue, mon père s'est injecté un virus appeler Extremis qui l'a rendu plus fort et qui a développé ses sens. Aussi le virus lui a retourné le cerveau. Il a convaincu les Avengers de prendre le pouvoir pour leur permettre de mieux protéger la population. Les habitants du monde vivent dans la peur de mourir. Maintenant, nous vivons dans un régime totalitaire et terroriste. Je suis la seule épargnée du à mon statut mais je ne sais pas si cette chance va durer longtemps.

J'étais dans une ruelle dans le Queens, pour reprendre mon souffle. J'avais vu un drone de mon père. Il commençait à pleuvoir et la nuit à tomber. J'étais épuisée et affamée. Le froid s'infiltrait facilement dans ma tenue. Je n'allais pas tenir longtemps. Je réactive KAREN. Avant mon départ j'avais piraté les deux IA de mon père pour pas qu'ils puissent me retrouver et ni suivre ma localisation.

« Bonjour Piper

- Bonjour KAREN peux-tu te connecter à FRIDAY donner ma position à mon père et transmettre le message que je me rend et que je ne les combattrai plus ? Et que je tenterai plus rien pour fuir !

- Bien-sûr Piper

- Merci KAREN ! Je soupire de soulagement. Je me laisse tomber contre le mur.

---

- Boss, je viens de recevoir un appel de KAREN. Elle me dit que Piper abandonne, qu'elle ne se battra pas et qu'elle ne tentera plus de fugue. Vue son état, il est préférable d'envoyer quelqu'un et le plus rapidement possible.

- Tout le monde est en mission et je suis trop loin de sa position pour aller la chercher.

- Si je peux me le permettre Boss, Dr Stranger est disponible.

- Je ne peux pas lui demander, il refuse de me parler !

- Boss, il vous écoutera s'il s'agit de Piper. Malgré tous vos différents vous avez fait une promesse. Ai-je besoin de vous la rappeler ?

- Non je m'en souviens très bien FRI ! Bien contacte-le ? Grogne Tony.

- Que veux-tu Stark, je n'ai pas pas que ça à faire ?

- Piper a été retrouvée et tout le monde est en mission et quant à moi je suis trop loin pour la rejoindre rapidement et me l'a ramener en sécurité. Et tu es la seule personne vers qui je peux me tourner !

- Bien donne-moi sa position et je te la ramène. Souffle le sorcier suprême.

- Elle est dans une ruelle du Queen vers Midtown.

- Je serait là avec elle dans deux minutes. Le doctor Strange raccroche sans laisser l'occasion à son interlocuteur de répondre.

---

- Piper, j'entends une voix m'appeler. Piper me rappelle la voix. Je la reconnais, c'est Stephen.

- Stephen, je murmure.

- Tu es là princesse. Viens je te ramène chez toi. Je laisse Stephen ouvrir un portail à la tour. Il me porte comme une mariée. Il traverse le portail et nous arrivons dans la MedBay. Je vais te faire les premiers soins et t'administré les médicaments dont tu auras besoin pour guérir.

- Hum, je marmonne à moitié endormie.

- Reposes-toi, je peux te faire le contrôle demain si tu veux. Je vais juste te faire une intraveineuse pour t'hydrater. Et je verrai demain le reste.

- Merci Stephen.

-Je t'en prie petite princesse, maintenant repose toi, je vais prévenir ton père que tu es là !

Je m'endors assez rapidement. Je me réveille avec les rayons du soleil. J'ouvre difficilement les yeux et tombent sur mon père qui me regarde.

- Bonjour Piper, me salut mon père. Maintenant que tu es de retour tu ne quittera plus la tour et j'y veillerai. Et pour être sûre que tu reste ici, l'avis de recherche de Spider-Man est toujours en cours.

- Ne t'inquiètes pas pour ça, je ne compte plus fuir. Durant cette année tu m'as trop manquée. Je voulais rentrer mais j'avais peur alors j'ai préféré déclarer forfait. J'étais de cette manière que je n'allais pas te combattre.

- Je ne pourrai jamais te tuer Bambina et tu le sais ! Tu es ma fille et rien ne pourra changer ça ! Je vais laisser le Docteur Strange t'examiner pendant que je préviens les autres de ton retour. Et avant que je ne l'oublie pendant deux semaines tu es à terre ce qui signifie tu ne quittera pas ta chambre et pendant un mois après tes deux semaines tu es privée de laboratoire pour m'assurer que tu respectes ta punition, je préviens Bruce et te retire durant le temps déterminé de pénétrer tous laboratoires.

- Quoi ?... Comment ça ?

- Tu l'oppose si tu veux cela peut-être deux mois ?!

- Non je n'ai rien dit un mois ira très bien !

- C'est ce qui me semblait Bambina. Je vais laisser Strange travailler, je te dis à plus tard Piper ! Il embrasse mon front et quitte la chambre d'hôpital.

- A plus tard Papa !

J'étais de retour chez moi. Je pensais que mon père serait plus énervé que cela. Au final cela s'était mieux passé que je pensais.

[pandagirl45]

Angst alert!!

Tony extremis was taken over, he felt in his veins as he was forced to grab the suit gauntlet. His AIs were quieted down, he can feel the rumbles from the data shouting out at him. He felt as the doors shut down and the building locked the team in their rooms.

He knew his body was hijacked. His mouth closed tight and legs traveling. The screaming surge of the virus take over told him exactly what was happening. It said to the WS. It was clear and concise. A means to an end and he felt his body jolting in the realization, as the ring was heavy on his finger.

He was going to kill his husband. He was going to be commanded to end him.

"Bucky..."

Bright blue eyes, Tony found his voice but he can read everything. As he tried to fight off the control. The command blaring in his system. Tony eyes bubbled with tears as the warmth of the tech began to charge. Set to kill.

Bucky knows what Tony is screaming. It was a hypothetical turned into a theory. Neither wanted to prove it.

Feeling heavy arms hug him tight, Bucky eyes closed tight. The sounds of the team rushing out. Tony arm moved up. The vibrant blue reflecting off the surface of the walls.

Bucky eyes wrenched closed as the sounded as painful as was to his ears. The warmth moved from his husband arms down to his stomach. Warm and tacky. Glistening in the code red lights. The screaming of the tech. Bucky hearing the team shrill yells as he dropped the knife a clean slice from stomach to side as Tony began to slump.

Following the man down, Bucky stared at him his heart pounding rapidly in his ears. Pressing his head against Tony's head, he let out a shuddering breath. Feeling a warm hand, paling in the light, he met the dimming eyes, "Hydra..." it was enough. Bucky shook his head.

"I should have... I could have..."

Tony, smiled labored breathing against the glassy blue eyed male lips, "I would... the... commands... safer."

"We could of secured you, I..." he wasn't sure. It was the theory proven and he wished it was wrong. He stared at the man who had bloody red lips with a smile. Cheeks pale against the red. Bucky body shook as he heard a hoarse yell.

"Tony!" Pushing himself off the bed, Bucky breathed out. Tears finally free. Body flipping over to the noise of the smaller male groaning.

The bright golden browns looked at him, fingers pushing away the messy bed hair to the tears on his cheek, "Bucky, the same nightmare?"

Arms hugging him tight, the couple stayed in bed till the morning broke. The Winter Soldier eyes sniffles as he held his love close. As the male went back to sleep slowly. All the rest he needed. He stared at the old stitches that dragged along his stomach to his side. He closed his eyes tight to push the red that wasn't there away. Caressing the stitching, Bucky eyed the window. Thoughts swirling.

It was 3 years ago, but it haunted Bucky still. Haunted him as he saw red and found those who created the virus. The luck, Tony being prepared at this what if. Lucky as they can be. Bucky doesn't regret the new red he added to his ledger.

Alt ending:

Bucky stared at the grave, 3 years in. He hugged himself hat lowered. Ring dull but never leaving his finger. A full 3 years since the horrible night. He stared at the grave as he placed down mums and forgetmenots. The sound of feet coming behind him.

"Leaving again Buck?"

Bucky kept quiet, stuffed his hands in his pockets, "I'll call you when I land..."

"We understand Bucky... rhodey forgave you. You can stay. Tony would forgive-"

"I haven't forgiven myself... I can't..." hebforced his legs to move as he felt the weight of memories surround him.

Steve watched his friend disappear in the crowd never following him. Eyes on the grave the blonde features harden, "He'll come home again. He'll come home."

(Sorry not sorry)

[ronearoundblindly]

The Stark Legacy (11)

Plunge, end of Book 1: Reality (see previous or series)

Summary: Samantha struggles to be a student and a young woman. She wants more than this average life.

Warnings: self-experimentation, needles, burns, discussion of past injuries, mentions of blood (that sounds pretty bad but I'm mostly just covering my ass because it's in there). Rated Teen/Mature, so 15+ only, please! WC 2.5k

CHAPTER ELEVEN—July 2038

She already had an inkling of what to do; it would just take further genetic specialization. In her experimental testing of the properties of the Extremis virus, graciously gifted to her by a mysteriously supportive doctor, Sam had accidentally mutated the virus to only affect skin cells, the most readily available test material. Rather quickly in fact the virus had proliferated, and when repeatedly exposed to only one type of cell, became incapable of infecting a different type of cell. 

Now Sam Wilson needed neural repair and tissue regeneration; she needed living neurons to infect and study.

Gathering active samples of brain tissue to breed a specialized virus was her immediate problem. It was her most overtly acquired supply and could not be managed without in-person aid. However, Sam couldn’t well detail her use of a controlled substance in a third-floor, unlicensed laboratory, so she told the head of the hospital a half-truth: her use of organ donor brain tissue would be of great help in an Alzheimer’s treatment. It was totally possible that would be an application years from now, but she had no intention of working that long before saving Big Sam. Some samples were too degraded for the virus to infect at all. The neural structure also required a very specific stimulus to maintain functionality. 

A host of other problems arose, leading Samantha to acquire even more equipment, none of which she cared to order or pick up covertly. There was no time. Mistress, ever efficient, still erased the digital records. At one point, Sam had so many samples going in her office that she moved the cold storage to her bedroom which was no longer used as a resting place anyway.

It was hours after the fact that Sam realized Cooper and Annie had yelled goodbye to leave on their honeymoon. They’d be gone for three weeks cruising, site-seeing, backpacking, and finally visiting family. All Sam had replied with was “okay.” The work felt painstakingly slow until Sam looked at the calendar; she’d only been focused on neural regeneration for a month, but she felt she was close.

One day—what was it, she thought, Tuesday? Oh damn, it’s Friday— after finally having to go downstairs for more ground coffee, she realized she hadn’t eaten in…maybe days… and started making herself some pasta, the very first thing she found in the pantry. She looked to her phone for the stream of live results Missy sent from each Extremis unit currently active. There were some promising specimens, along with at least two that required incineration. After food. Sam put down her phone and turned on the small kitchen monitor to the news.

King T’Challa stood on a podium welcoming King Namor of Atlantis to the United Nations. He offered kind words of people living together to protect each other, as he had opened his own technologically advanced nation to do decades ago. T’Challa was all honor and respect; Namor all suspicion and stoicism, the physical embodiment of the marble statue of David but with curiously slippery-looking clothes. The speech touted the storied history of their two ancient civilizations, Wakanda and Atlantis, and pledged support for peace between all nations of the planet, whether on land or in the sea.

Sam absently stirred the water, mesmerized and exhausted, drained of her highest functions. She kept watching until she was startled by the simultaneous sizzle of the over-boiling pot and doorbell. She dumped in the package of dry penne and ran to get the door.

“Oh, hey,” she greeted Lucas, “come on in. I was just cooking.”

Her boyfriend entered, hands deep in his pockets, snorting “you don’t cook, Sam.”

“Eh, pasta with sauce is food,” she shrugged.

“We need to talk.”

“What happened? You look…” Sam never knew what descriptors were appropriate to use in conversation: ‘upset’ usually incurred some backlash, ’tired’ was just rude, and ‘unhappy’ mostly referred to one’s thinking face. Luckily, she didn’t have to finish the thought.

“I got the fellowship, Sam.”

She couldn’t remember that context. “What fellowship?”

“I didn’t tell you because I had said some things in front of you about your Dad that—”

“No one calls him that,” she blurted. “He doesn’t like it.” Then she stitched together some of his meaning. “You applied for the Stark Fellowship? Since when…you don’t like…why would you want his name anywhere near your work?”

“Look, I said some negative things about…Mr. Stark, and I thought I’d seem like a hypocrite if I took his money. But you can’t deny it’s my best opportunity to develop the technology—”

“So still applying for his money and resources is not hypocritical after a certain time passes or just if you don’t mention it. Or is it not hypocritical while I don’t know about it?”

“Sam, you’re not listening.”

“I am. That’s all you’ve said so far.” Her logic felt infallible, at least to her.

“Right, well, I’ve been given a stipend and would move to DC. That’s the main facility hosting my department of research. And I’ve been given a contract that pays for me and others to be relocated…”

“Oh?” Sam’s brain went in several different directions all at once.

“And I’ve decided to take my mother.”

“Right,” Sam replied automatically. She started to think about those other directions her mind had jumped towards and bit her lip. “Wait.”

“I can set my mom up with a nice condo where she can retire and not have to worry about anything. I can’t pass that up.”

“Wait. Did you dangle being my boyfriend in front of my father to get this thing?” That instant anger sparked in her gut again. “When did you apply?”

“Um,” but Lucas couldn’t answer the question without looking guilty. “It’s the leading facility for my field of research—”

“Your field?” Sam spat. She had to sit down, but she shook all the same. Then something else occurred to her. “Wait, what’s my field, Lucas?”

“What?” He seemed baffled that they weren’t talking about him for once. He stammered, scratching his head in what looked like painful thought. “You don’t even go here officially. You…I don’t know, dabble in stuff.”

“You’ve asked me about the Avengers. You’ve asked me what little I know about my father. You’ve talked to me and my father about your research, but you don’t know what I do and have never asked.”

“I mean, you’re not serious about any study, are you? You don’t have to be. You’re a Stark.”

“And you never needed to know anything about me personally, did you? You just needed to get to Tony…”

“No, that’s not how it started. We dated before—”

“Half a date,” Sam bellowed. “We went on half a date before you knew who I was, and, oh, didn’t you call back fast the next day…how convenient you could get into a Stark’s pants? Hop, skip, and a bed away from the Stark payroll!”

“Sam,” Lucas tried to start but stopped in exasperation. “My work is everything to me.”

But Sam wasn’t close to done yet. “You knew exactly who I was, how old I was, how uninvolved in their world I actually am, and you knew,” she added particular venom to this one, “I had never been ‘involved’ with anyone before.”

“To be fair, I thought you felt like this wasn’t going to last, too. I was waiting for you to tell me it was over.”

Sam stood in the middle of the living room, a wooden spoon in her hand and her sleep shorts on, unable to process that kind of illogical stupidity.

“You no longer wanted to be near me, but you kept calling to talk about your research and having me over to your apartment and being my date to a wedding and talking to my father…because you thought that I would stop caring. What the ever-loving fu—”

“No, that’s not what I meant—”

“You…” Sam suddenly stopped. It made perfect sense. This mediocre, self-centered, Twenter boy who never bothered to ask Sam anything about her real interests and work stood there poised to have the upper hand in an emotional argument…encounter? Breakup? That was the reality. Sam was being broken up with, to her face, for the first time. Tony had quietly handed her off. Sam Wilson had faded into the shadows. Clint had convinced her Harvard was for her own good. Now Lucas Sommerson stood there telling her this was what she wanted, that it was for the best, that she was really meant for something bigger, better. Sam couldn’t argue with him there. So she did the one thing she always stopped herself from doing in front of Lucas: Sam put his brain to shame. 

“Your power supply is off because you don’t account for the limitations of space-safe materials required to minimize fire and exposure degradation. You don’t even attempt to alter the orientation and possible decentralization of your unit because you probably want it to be a box labeled ‘Sommerson Stasis’ or something ridiculous like that, but if you go to Stark Industries, nothing you create or have created is now your intellectual property. I pity you, honestly. If none of this occurred to you before…there’s not much hope that you’ll live up to the fellowship expectations.” For added salt in the wound, Sam warned, “your mom shouldn’t quit her day job.”

“Alright…” Lucas mumbled, stuck on some shocking revelation early in her rant and unable to listen further. “I’m gonna go.”

“You do that,” Sam regurgitated gratefully.

Lucas cocked an eyebrow but made no reply. Sam didn’t remember him leaving or how long she stood there before the sizzling pops of her food boiling over brought her back. She returned to the kitchen on autopilot, shaking in her inability to process…what? That he didn’t want her? That she hadn’t seen this coming? That she didn’t feel the emotions she thought she would? Sadness, yes, but sad for wasting valuable time attempting a physical connection when she could have been working. Anger, yes, but angry for her father’s interference when perhaps, as Sam Barton, Lucas would have loved her more. Frustration, yes, but frustrated by her lack of understanding of human behavior when she was smart enough to run circles around them all.

Sam slid the cork pot rest over and slammed the ruined pasta down, not realizing her fingers were still under the pot. She ripped her burning hand away and grabbed for pained her fingers, but was still tangled enough around the handle to tip the pot forward off the counter. The contents drenched her legs, splashing everywhere.

She could smell the flesh before she felt the pain. She sucked in her breath, trying not to scream. She held her unburned arm over her mouth and pressed it there to muffle the noise. The pool on the floor still scalded her feet, and Sam fell backward. The landing made her bite into her arm and bend her burned knees, pulling weak and aching skin. She bit down harder, tasting blood mixed with the tears streaming down her face. She could feel everything; she couldn’t cover her scream anymore.

Even though her mouth opened, only a strangled howl came out. The screaming did not help the pain, so Sam grabbed a leg of the kitchen table and pulled, hard, to heave herself out of the bowling puddle. The table screeched across the floor a few inches with her weight. She pulled up her torso to lean against the leg. Sam closed her eyes. Even her eyes burned with smoke and steam and salty tears.

When she dared to open them, she really saw—boiling water and penne pooled under her heels, spattered crimson marks down her legs speckled with blistering skin, bleeding fingers on one hand, and a vivid, bloody bite mark above her ugly brown bike scar. She looked at her shorter leg, and for more reasons than pain, Sam screamed.

She wasn’t sure how long she stayed there, crying, but when she finally moved, the puddle of water felt cool. Each movement was excruciating. Her phone still sat face down on the table. She began to dial 911 but couldn’t bring herself to press ‘call.’ She wouldn’t give Lucas the satisfaction of knowing he’d upset her. No one could know how weak she was. She couldn’t call Laura or Clint and put them through the hospital again. She couldn’t stand to see Natasha’s disapproving face. No one should have to lie for her anymore…

…but there was no way she could face Tony. What would she even say?

Yeah, I’ve almost died before. I was bullied. I stole. I broke a bunch of bones. My growth was permanently stunted. I have no skills and no formal, recognized education. Your daughter is basically Quasimodo. So, like, pick me up in fifteen?

Sam had slowly dragged her way to the front door, then it hit her. This was her opportunity, her only shot. She turned to climb, stair by stair, on two burned feet, bending two burned knees, dripping blood from her fingers, and shaking. If it didn’t work, she’d just have to live like this as her punishment. She could think of nothing else by the time she made it to her room.

Sam grabbed the syringe, needle and two vials at the front of her cooler. She grabbed a cable from the drawer and plugged one end into her computer tower.

“Okay, Missy,” Sam panted.

“Yes, Ms. Stark?”

“Use Port D’s auxiliary attachment to compile data. Label all files under ‘test subjec—” She sucked in air harshly, sliding the monitoring glove over her burnt and crushed fingers. “—’Test subject one,’ subcategory ‘dermis’ and—” From her slippery fingers, Sam dropped the second vial which burst as it hit the floor. So much for the nerve-dampening agent. Now, she’d feel everything.

“Yeah, no additional subcategory. Ready, Missy?”

“Running data capture now.”

Sam eyed the other vial. Now or never. Afraid of ruining her last chance from slick fingers, Sam filled the syringe with as much of the virus as possible, desperate to control her breath and her twitching hand. She only had 72ml to dose the entire surface of her skin. She tried to focus on how spread out she could manage and how specific she could be at depressing the plunger. She’d still have to eyeball each injection. Shock was settling in. Sam started on her shins, the farthest and hardest-to-reach area. She managed approximately 10ml each, so she repeated this on each thigh, once in each arm, and the remainder in her torso.

It felt like sitting in a hot tub with the blazing sun beating down. Her skin warmed, crawled, and burned like she was trapped under covers she couldn’t remove. Then her outsides caught ablaze, or might as well have, like skin drying out as you stand too close to the fire pit, tight and raw.

Before darkness enveloped her completely, she heard Missy ask “is everything alright, Samantha?” It was the first time Missy had ever used her proper name. That made one entity on Earth concerned for Sam Stark.

[Ch 12: Waking]

[Main Masterlist]

[thenihilistofthevoid]

Not in Kansas anymore, Toto

(A starter for @the-superior-iron-man)

“Okay... This world doesn’t look fun, let’s hope they’re not here. America, you and your unrestrained powers are causing me a headache.” The dark-haired male sighed, rubbing his temples as he arrived in the universe, speaking into a voice recorder. “Mission Log, World 937 - 3 months after mission commence date. Well, approximately due to multiversal time differential. This world doesn’t look like one of the nicer ones... At least it’s not another Hydra world, I’m getting pretty fucking sick of those. Mission is per usual. Infiltrate this universe’s version of the Avengers or whatever they do for it, look for altered tachyons from her gateway and go from there.” Saburo sighed, stopping recording. New York, by the looks of it... A really fucked up New York. This really wasn’t turning out to be one of the nicer one as a blonde woman clutched at his leg, holding her phone. “Please, I-I need the upgrade...” She hissed, shaking. Seeing the app for a moment, Saburo snorted. “Extremis? That old hat... It’s easier if I cure the addiction, one second.” Touching her temple and touching his mind with hers, he purged the virus from her brain via his psychic powers and had a look through her memories to gain more information quickly. “Stark... Of course, I would run into an evil him eventually... Gimme a fuckin’ break.” The mutant sighed, leaning against the concrete as he deleted the app from her phone, sending a retrovirus program to all her contacts, which would send to all their contacts. “There, that should stop his virus. In a day or two, everyone should be cured. I’m going now.” Getting up and walking off without an explanation, he teleported in a flicker of blue fire. Arriving in Stark Tower, Saburo sat down and opened some of the scotch, he’d need a drink. Not to mention it was assured to be the proverbial “good shit” as he poured a glass, hearing the boosters of the suit. “Hi Tony.” He stated, a touch condescendingly as he saw the suit. “I’d say I like this colour scheme, makes a change from the overtly theatrical red and gold, but you look like a Cyberman in that. You look like you need a drink, this scotch is great.”