#peg writes

[mistressstrange]

Raising a Bright Future

Inspired by prompt #559 on @ironstrangeprompts

The Ancient One makes a split second decision and raises the next Sorcerer Supreme herself, manipulating events to have him meet his soulmate at just the right moment.

Not sure if I will expand on this later or not. Feel free to send an ask if you have any ideas.

While rocking Stephen’s crib with one foot she scries for Tony and finds him hard at work on a circuit board. 

As she cradles the feverish toddler Stephen has become, she checks in to find his soulmate throwing a tantrum. She turns away before she sees why it is his last. 

As Stephen gets old enough to start their most basic training she watches Tony move into his dorm and meet his best friend Rhodes. She decides it is not time for the soulmates to meet. 

As a teenage Stephen argues with the librarian on what books he should be allowed to read, she watches Tony grieve for his parents, and decides that Stephen is not yet ready to help him. 

An adult to the law, Stephen leaves for the first time to attend college, to become a doctor, and meets Christine. Tony is in his lab designing weapons of death and destruction. It is not the right time.

Graduating with honors and his mother’s pride Stephen does not return to Kamar-taj and moves into the New York Sanctum to begin his residency. Stark gets on a plane for Afghanistan. 

Stephen watches a difficult surgery as Tony survives one Stephen cannot yet perform. 

Stephen becomes a better and more skillful doctor as Tony improves his armor again and again. 

As the Avengers fight an Army pouring from the sky Stephen sees the brilliant light in his rear view mirror and takes his eyes off the road. 

Tony munches on shawarma as Stephen lies unconscious in surgery. 

And as Tony begins to rebuild his tower Stephen returns home and to the magic that was all he had left. 

And when a far off airport seems destined to be destroyed Stephen goes to stand behind his soulmate and bring about a better future. 

One that is brighter than what his mother saw at his birth.

[mistressstrange]

Funeral Blues

Stop all the clocks, cut off the telephone,

Prevent the dog from barking with a juicy bone,

Silence the pianos and with muffled drum

Bring out the coffin, let the mourners come.

The world was still. The Sanctum silent but for the tinny voice calling unheard from the dropped phone.  His eyes stared. Wong came up but was silenced with a bag from their deli and turned to look with him. Tears flowed softly down ivory cheeks to thud minutely upon the floor. The still muted TV showed a fallen and still figure of red and gold. Its companions slowly drawing closer.

Let aeroplanes circle moaning overhead

Scribbling on the sky the message ‘He is Dead’.

Put crepe bows round the white necks of the public doves,

Let the traffic policemen wear black cotton gloves.

Helicopters dared the destruction to circle where the fallen lay, their pilots calling back to say “He is Dead.” He falls beside Wong and weeps. For days does he cry. Never seeing the thousands of left flowers that were carried off by doves. Never notices the black gloves as the officer pulls him forward to see the fallen.

He was my North, my South, my East and West,

My working week and my Sunday rest,

My noon, my midnight, my talk, my song;

I thought that love would last forever: I was wrong.

“He was everything. My everything. The guiding light of my life and the haven of my soul. We would talk all the time. Sometimes we would sing beneath the moon and others we would curl up beneath blankets at noon and hide away from the sun. He promised he wouldn’t leave me. He promised. He...”

The stars are not wanted now; put out every one,

Pack up the moon and dismantle the sun,

Pour away the ocean and sweep up the wood;

For nothing now can ever come to any good.

– W. H. Auden

“I am leaving. Wong. This is it, goodbye. There is nothing for me here. But maybe in another world, some other dimension, I can find something good.”

Original prompt from mdcbd to make the poem above into something ironstrange. Thank you for the inspiration.

Tagging: @mdcbd @babywarg @capochinootea

[mistressstrange]

Strange Thought #90

In front of the fire. Stephen leaning back against Wong's chest as they read together. The book is hung in the air in front of them and the Cloak on the floor playing with its action figures. Absent minded-ly petting Wong’s chest with one hand as he shakily points at something interesting in the book. Wong leaning forward to kiss his temple and thinking bout how much Stephen had improved. And when Stephen starts to rub his eyes and yawn Wong directs the book down. When Stephen protests that he could keep going, wasn't that tired, Wong just says that he wants to relax with his love. Stephen tucks his head back under Wong's chin, pressing his face against that warm chest as tears pool in his eyes. He can't remember the last time he had felt so loved.

[mistressstrange]

Stephen, take a break.

Summary: A bit of jealousy between sorcerers.

@ironstrangebingo B2 - Tea

@badthingshappenbingo B5 - Poison/Venom

[mistressstrange]

Warming a Soul

Summary:

@ironstrangeprompts Prompt #398 Tony thinks back to the first time Stephen fell asleep in his arms. (Extended version of my previous shorter fill.)

@goodthingshappenbingo​ I5 “Warm”

READ HERE ON AO3!

[mistressstrange]

How to Save a Life

A ficlet for @goodthingshappenbingo square “Saved at the Last Moment”

Poor Stephen.There is a happy ending after the pain, don’t worry.

Over and over did he die.

Stabbed. Again and again.

The pain always sharp. Always sudden. Never lessening.

The blade went through his chest, his heart breaking before the eyes of the Avengers, and the light died from his eyes.

Then time rewound.

And he was stabbed again.

Again they gasped as the blade forced its way through.

And they again felt the pain of losing him.

Then time rewound.

Again he was stabbed.

But this time there was something different.

This time Tony glitched in the air. He had not returned to where he had been.

Instead he was that tiny bit closer.

And the others saw it.

Time rewound.

Stephen choked on his breath as the sword dug into his heart.

Tears fell from the eyes of the Avengers as they struggled to move.

To help him.

Time rewound.

The Avengers cried with grief and rage as they were moved away.

Stephen was stabbed again.

Thor reached out.

Their light died.

Time rewound.

Stephen’s eyes widened and closed tightly as the sword came for his life.

But while pain blossomed, it was different from before.

This time as he fell, arms caught him tightly.

Hands pressed against the gash on his side.

Rain fell upon his face.

Stephen looked up to find grief and love pouring from the Avengers.

Time continued.

Life went on.

Love gave them that one moment.

To save a life.

And their soul.

[mistressstrange]

An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works

I wrote Strangerine.

@goodthingshappenbingo G2: Guardian Angel

[mistressstrange]

Okay but imagine like no powers au where supremefamily is super domestic and instead of being a neurosurgeon Stephen is a vet at a local clinic. Of course they end up adopting all the pets that he gets attached to if they have no owners

This turned into more of a prologue for a fic I probably will never get around to writing (so if anybody else wants to try go for it).

The Stark-Strange house was loud.

The library turned mansion was stuffed to the brim with animals the small family had adopted over the years. From the alpaca with one ear that guarded the backyard to the blind otter that you could usually find in the third floor bathtub.

There was never silence.

The three humans that inhabited the house lived primarily on the fourth and fifth floors of the place and would greet all of their family as they wound their way down to the first floor and its enormous kitchen.

It took Dr. Strange nearly two hours every morning to get everyone fed, but it was a happy, nuzzle-filled, two hours before he left to get bit and scratched by his patients of the day. Dr. Strange was a veterinarian. His somewhat shorter husband would be woken afterwards by his morning goodbye kiss. The good doctor’s smell of fish, and various other animal foods, waking the man with a crinkle of his nose and a false horror at the stench.

Dr. Stark, that’s the husband, worked for a large tech company that made everything from cell phones to satellites. His days were filled with the beeps, buzzes, chirps, and yowls of his living and non-living pets and blueprints of creativity. For his days were not spent in an office. No, the fifth floor was his ‘office’ as he stayed home, caring for their animals and the greatest joy of their life. Their son Peter.

Peter was four, at the moment, and followed his dad around the house. His days consisted of playing with his pets and being a giggly, slightly smaller, copy of his dad. Many a sketchbook full of office scribbles as he mimicked his dad on the phone or hard at work upon a design. Peter’s design for an innovative new way to get a chinchilla from the top of the house to the bottom as fast as possible held a place of pride on his dad’s large design wall. And when his papa got home from a day at the vet’s office, Peter would play doctor. His papa’s hands would sport bright band-aids that featured comic characters, like Peter’s favorite; Iron Man. Peter once told his papa that they would help protect him from his patients.

They were a happy family.

Loud!, but happy.