Fandom: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Iron Man (Movies), Doctor Strange (2016), The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Relationships: Tony Stark/Stephen Strange, Tony Stark & Stephen Strange, Loki & Thor (Marvel), Peter Parker & Tony Stark, Stephen Strange & Peter Parker
Characters: Tony Stark, Stephen Strange, Loki (Marvel), Thor (Marvel), Wong (Marvel), Peter Parker, Thanos (Marvel), The Infinity Stones - Character, The Cloak of Levitation, Gamora, Peter Quill, Drax, Mantis, Ebony Maw
Additional Tags: Mutual Pining, Friends to Lovers, Time Travel, Canon Divergence - Avengers: Infinity War Part 1 (Movie), Endgame what endgame?, soul bonding, Happy Ending, everyone lives no one dies, Canon Disabled Character, Temporary Character Death, Hurt/Comfort, Fluff and Angst, Tony Stark/Stephen Strange Parenting Peter Parker | Supremefamily | Strange Family
In the original timeline, Loki never pulled a knife on Thanos. In the original timeline, Stephen stopped at 5,371 futures, and Thor went for the head.
In the original timeline, Thanos lost.
The universe cannot survive without the Infinity Stones. As the last living Stone keeper, Stephen is called to undo what Thanos did.
Racing through time and space, Stephen must find a way to save the universe. Tony must find a way to save Stephen.
Chapter 11: Through the Stargate
“Tony?” he whispered, his voice sounding flat, like even the air around them was dead.
“Stephen…” Tony whispered next to him. “Why is it so dark?”
He was about to respond when a deep, booming voice said, “In the end, it is always dark.”
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// AU in which Carol Danvers mourns Stephen Strange’s loss in the Blip.
((Why? Because I kinda dig the current ‘ship in the Captain Marvel comics between Stephen and Carol...though it’s probably short-lived.))
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A Host of Strange Times
DannyMay Day 7 - Illusion
Summary: In which Stephen finds himself trapped with a ghost thanks to the magic of Ghost Zone television.
Inspired by @floralflowerpower's marvel dp crossover post (here)
A single, small, blinking red light shines brightly in a pitch black room. Purple smoke appears and dissipates in front of the eerie glow followed by the appearance of a tall being in a tux of varying shades of black, white, and grey. They took a moment to run a hand over their short, slicked back hair and adjust their small purple bow tie. They turned to the camera a few meters away.
“We rolling?” The camera nodded. “Good.” The being put on a charming smile and a long skinny microphone appeared in their hand, followed by three spotlights shining from above; one on themself, and one on each of the two people tied to red and blue arm chairs behind them. The sound of them clearing their throat echoed in the room.
“Hey there, I’m-”—the sound of static pitching at strange octaves filled the air, rousing the human in the blue armchair—“the host of this fabulous show, and, oop,”—they leaned towards their camera raising their eyebrows—“looks like our other contestant is finally waking up,” they said, chuckling slightly.
“Wha- who are you? Where am I?” The sorcerer searched the black void around him, eyes settling on the other figure strapped to the red armchair. “And who is that?”
“Oh so many questions, but so little time. I’m afraid you’ll have to find out for yourself on this episode of...”—more static emitted from their mouth, the loud sound grating on the sorcerer's ears. The Host glided behind the two chairs and leaned down, keeping up a smile for the floating cameras. Out of the corner of their mouth, The Host whispered, “I’ll give you two a few moments to get acquainted while I freshen up, but make it interesting; remember the audience loves drama.”
A few more lines of nonsensical dialogue and The Host disappeared in a puff of smoke, a small black and white checkered trailer appearing moments later with what looked like chicken scratch printed across the side. The sorcerer’s head hurt looking at it for more than a few seconds so he averted his eyes, turning to the other captive who seemed much too calm for his liking.
The nearly transparent being without legs (gaseous cloud with arms?) tilted their head to him without breaking eye contact with the cameras. “Daniel’s a bit of a handful at times, but he’s a good kid. Though he and his friends do like to prank me every so often, which can cause immense damage to the time stream if they or I aren’t careful.”
The sorcerer narrowed his eyes. “Okay first, who are you? Second, how can someone damage the time stream with a prank? And third who the hell is Daniel?”
The being shifted ages to appear younger. “My apologies; my powers are being suppressed at the moment so I believed we had already met, but that must’ve been in a different time.” Their eyes glanced to his chest where the Eye of Agamotto once sat.
The being nodded. “Yes; ghost powers. More specifically, my temporal manipulation,”—they turned their attention back to the cameras—“but now is not the time to get into this.”
“It suppresses ghost powers?” he said, testing the bonds. “Great, I’m not-”
“Part of your abilities were originally based on my own. The restraints will still suppress them.” The sorcerer stopped his struggling to narrow his eyes at the ghost.
“The ghost who trapped us here is called by a name not meant for human ears. Though most call them Bada as that is the sound you hear in your head when you are groaning in pain afterwards.” The ghost sighed, shifting to look older. “You may refer to me as CW, but like I said before, now is not the time.” Stephen raised an eyebrow.
“I thought you said you couldn’t use your powers.”
“Lack of sight does not equate lack of common sense.” CW squinted at the ‘audience’. The floating cameras were beginning to dwindle in number. “Now it’s your turn; tell me about your charge.”
“Yes; the way this is going, I believe we will be taking each other’s place. You have someone similar to Daniel that you ask to assist you sometimes, correct?” Stephen hummed.
“Well I guess there is Spiderman,” he mused. “I would hardly call him my charge, but he’s similar enough. Good kid, likes to mess around with things that could break reality. Though I suppose I’d call him something more like a… part-time house sitter.” The cameras faded until only three were left and CW shifted to a much older age, nodding at him to go on. “He’s also a friend that I know I can rely on in dire circumstances and at this point I think I’d accept him as one of my students if he asked.”
“Awww.” The sound of dozens of voices echoed all around them and several more cameras appeared.
“Where is that coming from?” Stephen muttered to himself, eyes searching the room. A larger red glow appeared above his head and he craned his head up, noticing an audience prompter directly above them. Then another thought occurred and he turned back to the ghost. “You were awake before me.”
They nodded. “I was.”
“And you know a lot about this place.”
“So when we escape these restraints, you can lead us out of here?”
“When we escape?” They shook their head. “Sorcerer Supreme, we’re not really here. The Host doesn’t have the ability to teleport others; they can only create elaborate illusions and certain types of physical constructs. They brought our minds, not our bodies.” Stephen pursed his lips. Hopefully, he didn’t tip over onto any of the candles he lit for his morning meditation. He grimaced, thinking about Peter dropping in without warning and startling his cloak.
“Wonderful.” CW relaxed into their chair.
“It won’t be so bad; this swap should only last a week at most.”
The sorcerer's brows furrowed. “If they can only move our minds then how would they be able to do this? From what I recall in a similar show, the contestants have to physically switch locations.” This time, CW grimaced. Stephen groaned.
“Great. Amazing.” He took a deep breath. “At least tell me you know something about sorcery.”
The ghost’s tail flicked once before curling around one of the chair legs. “Knowledge of the mystical is something of which I know well. I have seen the rise of kingdoms and the fall of empires, the age of Gods and the terror of Titans, the Tower of Babel and the Great Flood. I have experienced many wonders in this lifeless death of mine, but beyond time, I am nothing.” The sorcerer stared at him, deadpan.
“Meaning?” The ghost rolled their eyes.
“If it’s not related to manipulating time in any way, then no, I don’t know anything about sorcery.” Ah, that’s not good.
Stephen, while being the former keeper of the Time Stone, is still fairly new to time manipulation spells without the stone. If he were to be thrust into another being’s body with non-sorcery related time powers, well… he’s not quite sure what might happen. He hopes ‘Daniel’ will be able to assist him as well as Peter and his other students do.
“Don’t worry too much about maintaining the timelines,” CW said offhandedly. “I can assure you, Daniel is entirely capable of taking care of it himself.”
Stephen was getting tired of that very quickly. “Thanks, but I think you should focus on yourself. You’ll be in the New York Sanctum and that city always has some kind of incredibly destructive threat every couple days.” He made a face. “Speaking of which, make sure you have Spiderman show you how to refresh the illusion outside. It should be wearing off tomorrow.” The ghost gave no inclination they heard him, keeping their focus on the cameras and the trailer.
Several more cameras had appeared at some point during their discussion, bringing the total number up to thirteen and the door to the trailer unlocked, swinging open. A puff of purple smoke billowed out of the trailer and formed the vague shape of The Host in front of them.
“Wow, wasn’t that interesting folks?” Stephen jumped at the voice beside him. The audience prompter appeared above them followed by the sounds of a cheering crowd as he eyed the ghost. From their spot sitting on the arm of his chair, The Host smiled wide. “Honestly, I can hardly wait to see how this plays out so I think as soon as the kids show up, we’ll get right into it!” The audience cheered once more.
Hours passed with frustratingly vague conversation after conversation and the Sorcerer Supreme was mentally exhausted.
“You know, I feel like we’re missing someone,” CW said, furrowing their brows. Stephen doubted there was anyone else even somewhat similar to the two of them. Or rather, if there were, he was hoping they wouldn’t show up and leave another universe without it’s time manipulating protector. “If I had my sight, I would know them.” Well that’s confusing.
“How can you only know them when looking into different timelines?” CW looked like he was expecting something, and by the slight aging of his form, Stephen assumed the ghost was fighting back a headache.
“I don’t know, but I’m certain I can only see and not see them with my sight. Without it, I’m just left with a vague feeling of annoyance.”
That doesn’t make any sense. “How can you see and not see them at the same time?”
The ghost shrugged and suddenly Stephen was even more worried about the duties he would be thrust into; if this so-called Caretaker of Time couldn’t deal with one measly paradox, there must be a miles long backlog of issues that needed to be dealt with. His own universe could manage without him for a while—a multitude of heroes, sorcerers, and others can take over some of his more active tasks and, considering The Host’s plan, Peter would likely be at the Sanctum or somewhere nearby, ready to help the ghost adjust—but by CW’s vague explanations, there are, quote, slimy, no-good, lily-livered eyeball ghosts who trick people into eternal employment contracts that he needs to avoid at all costs, several older and very powerful ghosts who regularly meet at CW’s lair to watch disastrous events in history together and discuss how they would make it worse, and the only other person who is somewhat capable of taking on CW’s duties is ‘Daniel’.
The reckless teenage mentee.
The one who has minor time manipulation powers and pranks this Caretaker of Time in such a way that he could break the time stream if he and his friends weren’t careful.
Stephen let out a long suffering sigh.
“As much as me and the viewers at home would love to hear more,” The Host gestured their free hand above the chairs. “it seems the boys have finally gotten to their places! So without further adieu-” They snapped their fingers and sweet smelling purple mist coiled down their arms to engulf both captives completely. As Stephen started to nod off, the last thing he saw was The Host’s fuzzy grey outline as they spoke to the cameras.
“Let’s get on with the show!”
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X-Men #33 (Thomas/Roth, June 1967). I honestly can’t decide how I feel about the X-Men facing Iron Man or Dr Strange threats. It certainly enhances the worldbuilding, and creates some tension in that these heroes are ill-equipped to face these challenges. But even Magneto is a lackluster mutant villain these days. It’s unclear what defines their specific corner of the Marvel universe.
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Clearly it’s a huge disadvantage that in order to create a dimensional gateway, Doctor Strange needs a sling ring. I mean, having or lacking one was a huge plot point several times in the movie.
I can’t see Stephen just living with that, not when his hands are already so full of metal, just calling out to have spells and enchantments etched into it.
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When the Vision created by the Hex helped White Vision regain his memories, he regained all of his memories.
J.A.R.V.I.S re-awakens in a world without Sir.
But it's part of Stephen's plan.
Words: 673, Chapters: 1/7, Language: English
Series: Part 1 of Reboot
Fandoms: The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Characters: Jarvis (Iron Man movies), Stephen Strange, Agatha Harkness
Relationships: Jarvis (Iron Man movies) & Tony Stark, Jarvis (Iron Man movies) & Stephen Strange & Agatha Harkness
Additional Tags: Spoilers for WandaVision, not team Cap friendly, Not Steve Friendly, Not Wanda Friendly, not wanda maximoff friendly, not for Wanda fans, Vision becomes J.A.R.V.I.S again, Sort of Agatha Redemption, Hardcore Moderation, Because trolls are a plague, Civil War Team Iron Man
Hydra Doctor Strange from Marvel Future Revolution
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All that mattered--even in the wake of his own final battle with Thanos--was that Tony survived. At all costs. And it had hurt like hell to give up the Time Stone, as though some vital part of his own life force had become invested in it, but Stephen knew that pain was only finite--for soon enough he would be erased from the equation.
from the next chapter of my fic, 14,000,604
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Mmmmmm…movie night! 💖
Not my edit, so if anyone knows who created it, please let me know or claim proper credit yourself. In the meantime...
I’m just gonna allow myself to imagine a cozy night at the Sanctum, a few drinks between us and maybe some kind of sinful, choclatey dessert to go with them. Then a few old black & white flicks, with a touch of romance about them. The Philadelphia Story. Rebecca. And of course, Bell, Book, and Candle. Leaning my head on his shoulder, closing my eyes as I breathe deep of Stephen’s cologne and the warmth of his skin, with it’s undertone of magic. Exotic and heady. Inviting. Tempting. Imbued in the flesh of his neck and overpowering me with the need to kiss. To taste. To adore.
Here’s hoping Stephen won’t mind too much if we don’t quite see the movie we’re watching all the way through to the end.
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More MCU Stephen x Clea Headcannons;
- Whenever Stephen massages Clea’s shoulders, he’ll use magic to move his hands so they won’t get sore. It’s not something he likes doing, but he figures once in awhile for his lady love is fine.
- Their first time occurs on a dark and stormy night where the power is out in the sanctum, and they’re soaking wet from the rain.
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Wong: hey remember when aliens attacked New York?
Strange: I try not to
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Baby peter: *babbles and stares off into the distance*
Stephen: what is it child. What invisible eldritch horrors do you see with your baby eyes. Have you glimpsed the great beyond?
Tony: what the fuck babe
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Just omegaverse things: imagine Omega Mordo having monogrammed handkerchiefs (monogramed everything, actually, 'cause he's fancy) Alpha Stephen finds one and can't possibly imagine what K.A.M means but holy fuck the handkerchief smells fucking amazing? who's this omega that smells like a fucking dream??? and suddenly one day Mordo is like oh! you found my handkerchief, may I have it back? but Stephen's already sleeping with it on his pillow *cough* sniffing it when he jacks off at night *cough* and Mordo's scent is so calming and just so good to him it even helps with the pain in his hands that he almost doesn't want to give it back? lol Mordo doesn't get it at all until he does and he's all 😳😍
So...... I’m terribly sorry Nonny. I know I keep apologizing and I really do have to cause the wait is just insane. I really enjoyed this submission Nonny. It’s just so sweet and sexy and ummm.... here’s a little offering to say sorry for the wait. Just a drabble for your enjoyment :)
“But I found it,”
The words came out more pathetic than he intended. Stephen kept the handkerchief behind his back, as if Karl would forget it once it was out of sight.
“And yet it’s mine,”
Karl stepped forward and Stephen stepped back in response. His shaking fingers clenched the silk, his nails digging into those telling initials.
“Surely you know that stealing is forbidden here. Especially from a master,” Karl’s eyes didn’t break away from Stephen’s guilty face. “And more so an omega.”
“You’re...you’re an omega…”
“Is that a question or a statement Stephen?”
Stephen wasn’t even sure what his answer was, or even what he meant to say. For all his sharp intellect he was grasping with the simple truth that Karl Mordo was an omega. Not for his form or even his appearance, but by the sheer confidence he held. He’d rarely encountered an omega so strong yet gentle, with a presence both formidable and disarming. It frightened and excited him, a deadly combination that rendered him somewhat useless.
“Stephen?” Karl’s gentle voice shook his thoughts to focus.
Stephen’s grip tightened on the small fabric.
“Stephen,” Karl tried again, stern this time with an outreached palm. “My handkerchief. Return it. I can give you another if you wish but that one in particular is dear to me.”
“You have more?” Stephen looked up to find Karl already several feet closer to him. The closeness made his stomach light.
“Of course,” Karl said. “I’ll even let you choose one. But I need this one back Stephen. It’s my favorite.”
Stephen gulped. He opened this mouth, ready to protest then decided hard against it. How was he supposed to ask Karl if he could at least clean it? Stephen’s scent was all over the fabric by this point. He’d tucked it by his face to sleep, wrapped it around his hands to soothe the ache, and without a trace of shame he also inhaled the sweet omega scent to arouse him at night.
“Not feeling well?” Karl said.
“Your face Stephen,” Karl said, his dimples deepened with a smile. “You’ve gone six shades of red right before my eyes. Do you need to lay down?”
Laying down was definitely not what Stephen needed at the moment.
“Why’s it your favorite then?” He blurted out, “If something’s your favorite shouldn’t it be...I don’t know...tucked away? Kept safe? Not lost?”
“I use it often so of course I’d misplace it eventually,” Karl sighed. “Stephen don’t be unreasonable. I need that back before The Ancient One sees you with it. She might think you’re trying to pursue me.”
“And why’s she involved again?” Stephen asked. It seemed like the lady was always involved in everything, even when she wasn’t physically present.
“She made that for me. It’s one of the few handmade gifts I own. More than that, it’s also one of the first gifts I received when I arrived. It made me feel welcomed.”
Stephen looked at the top of Karl’s boots to avoid looking at his face. He didn’t really know much about Karl’s past. From what he could gather his teacher didn’t grow up in Kamar Taj but did arrive when he was young. It was difficult for him to imagine Karl ever being scared and new to this world, alone and searching for a home.
“Stephen please,” Karl said. “My initials are embroidered there. If people see you with it they’ll talk. Rumors will start, other alphas will know and I...I don’t want to bring that upon you.”
“Why not?” Stephen said, finally lifting his eyes to meet Karl’s. To his surprise there wasn’t a hint of impatience or annoyance in Karl’s face. Instead that sweet smile remained, still warm and gentle, still too far from his reach.
“You know, you have this infuriating way of making me smile,” Karl said. “Even when I really don’t want to.”
“Well...do you think I’ll have a way of convincing you to let me keep this?” Stephen asked.
Karl’s eyes looked at him with both pity and amusement, and little bit of something that Stephen might have identified as hope.
“Perhaps,” Karl said, stepping closer. “We can come to a compromise.”
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The biggest issue I'm having is trying to figure out just how traumatized I want Roe to be in assemble like do I want them to have a sad backstory that comes with issues they have to overcome or do I want them to be normal
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My mood is just - Mordo and Wong looking at Stephen in exasperation every time he speaks
Stephen: this was a mistake -
Mordo: **you think???**
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Tony, walking in on Stephen standing in the courtyard: hey, babe. What are you doing?
Stephen: training with Harley. He should be back from Everest any second now.
Tony: how long has it been?
Stephen, unconcerned: nearly ten minutes
Tony: did you give him a sling ring?
Stephen: oh fuck-
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Also can we please please please have a movie entirely about the Ancient One please?
I’ve asked very politely I think
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I'm spending my time making a playlist for my fanfic
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