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#Stephen Strange

The world has fallen to a monstrous infection, those who remain must band together to survive.  In Upstate New York, heroes and civilians alike are working to build a life, even in the wake of civilisation crumbling.

Marvel Zombies RP open character: Stephen Strange

Moderator suggestion for this character:

Not everything, apparently, can be solved with magic. Whether it’s the fact that this dimension has been cut off from everything extradimensional, or that whatever this is is just something beyond what even the Sorcerer Supreme can handle.

Survivors connected to Strange:
  • Clint Barton • Hawkeye
  • Billy Kaplan • Wiccan
  • Gabby Kinney • Honey Badger
  • Laura Kinney • Wolverine
  • Wanda Maximoff • The Scarlet Witch
  • Peter Parker • Spider-Man
  • Steve Rogers • Captain America

Marvel Zombies RP is a Marvel Comics AU roleplay established 1 April 2017. We look forward to surviving with you.


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Tony: no birthday will ever top the one when Morgan was four and shouted “FUCK” after she realized she didn’t get me anything.
Pepper: then you looked at her and said that was gift enough.
Christine: is that why Morgan shouted that earlier???
Stephen: yeah, after that it became tradition for her to shout “FUCK” whenever Tony gets to unwrapping his gifts. It’s just her gift to him from now on.
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Can I just say that I am so glad those gloves Doctor Strange wore in Thor Raganrok did not carry over into Infinity War? I know they’re from the comics, but they may need more work to look dignified in live action. I say this as someone who believes the rest of the Doctor Strange ensemble translated magnificently to live action. It’s one of my favorite costume designs in the MCU. But these just do not work for me.

Frankly, it looks like he was in the middle of doing the dishes when Thor came knocking. And while I am fully willing to accept that he was in the middle of some mystical chores, they still look silly. And not in a good way. 

If they try the gloves again in Multiverse of Madness, maybe do a couple of redesigns.

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John Constantine meets Stephen Strange, but it's Crack
Stephen: I was a neurosurgeon before this
John: Cheers, mate. I was a bastard. Still am a bastard, but now I have magic.
Stephen: You're a curious thing, John Constantine
John: And you're very tall.
Stephen: What?
John: Sorry, mate. Thought we were stating the obvious.
Stephen: How long have you been practicing the, as you say it, 'dark arts'?
John, squinting: I'm not the only one who calls what I do the 'dark arts', I've no idea why you said it like that.
Stephen, rolling his eyes: How long have you been a sorcerer?
John, realizing he has no fucking clue: How long have you been a wizard?
Stephen: I'm not a wizard. I'm the sorcerer supreme.
John, laughing: Oi alright. Alright. Sorcerer supreme. Bloody brilliant. What does that entail then?
Stephen: I protect the magic of this dimension and every other dimension.
John: So you're the one I blame for magic being such shit lately.
Stephen: ....
Stephen: .....
Stephen: Yes and no.
John: Oi, take some responsibility here, mate. You're the one goin around callin yourself Sorcerer Supreme. Own up to your mistakes.
Stephen: Are you always this insufferable?
John: No.
John: Sometimes I'm much worse.
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everything i want(ed)

a/n: idk i wrote Stephen birthday angst, i kinda feel like it’s only fair if i write something angsty for Tony’s birthday too (out of respect for the supreme otp of course) ft. supremefamily fluff! 

“Dad, what kind of cake is your most favorite in the entire world?” Morgan asked sweetly.

Tony’s answer was innocent and wholesome enough, on the surface, a true reflection of the selfless family man he was. “Whatever kind of cake you guys want to make or buy, since I’m sure none of you can cook, will be fine.”

“Pardon my French, and cover your ears Morgan, but that’s bullshit!” Peter replied, hanging from the ceiling like a bat. “You sound like Michael Scott refusing to pick the cake at his going away party. Come on Dad, it’s your birthday and we want to make a big deal out of it!”

“I won’t deny you that opportunity,” Tony replied. “But I really don’t need a lot, I already have everything I could ever want. Well I will once your dad and your sister get home.”

“You called?” Stephen asked, striding confidently into the kitchen with Illyana in his arms.

“We brought balloons!” Illyana added, waving two huge balloon bouquets around. “Why is Morgan covering her ears?”

“Peter was going to say a bad word,” Morgan replied, uncovering her ears. “Look at the balloons Dad!”

Tony smiled, albeit a bit sadly, as he went to give Stephen a hug and a kiss on the cheek. “They’re really nice, thanks guys.”

“Is Harley still sleeping? I don’t want him to underestimate the work that we’re going to be doing getting this house decorated. Today should be an international holiday,” Morgan declared. “I’m taking charge now. Peter, go get Harley. Illyana, start making balloon bunches and use the map we drew yesterday to put them around. Doctor Dad?”

Stephen hummed, watching Tony slip out of the room. “What’s up?”

“Can Doctor Mom bake?” Morgan asked. “I’ve never seen her do it, but I figured you’d know.” 

“I think so. I’ll call her and she can help you guys bake a cake, if you’d like,” Stephen offered. “We all know that I can’t cook.” 

“I bet if you really applied yourself, you could,” Illyana suggested. “Did anybody find out what flavor of cake Dad wants?” 

“He still hasn’t said,” Morgan replied. “Doctor Dad, can you find out?” 

Stephen nodded. He walked past Peter and a sleepy Harley on his way into the master bedroom, asking the boys to not make too much of a mess and to look after their sisters. 

“So you’re saying I’m in charge? Great!” Peter said, bouncing on his toes like an excited puppy. 

“No I’m in charge, I’m the oldest,” Harley replied. “The middle kids are never in charge.” 

“In my unbiased opinion and personal experience, Harley is right!” Stephen called over his shoulder. 


Tony was laying facedown on their bed, curled up around a pillow and taking deep but shaky breaths. 

Stephen sat gracefully beside him, softly playing with his hair. “You okay?” 

“A little overwhelmed, honestly,” Tony replied. “And with that comes guilt.” 

“What’s up?” 

Tony flipped onto his back and looked sadly up at Stephen, still hugging the pillow close to his chest. “Do you ever feel like… this is stupid but have you ever felt like people love you too much? Or they assume that an idealized version of you is how you really are?” 

“Yeah, but if you’re suggesting that’s true of me and the kids and our friends, you must know how wrong you are,” Stephen replied. “The four (4) of them can be overbearing when they’re happy, but we know they mean well. And you don’t have to feel bad for being overwhelmed.” 

“It’s kind of a lot, and I don’t know if I deserve- am I a good enough parent? A good enough partner? Have I done enough for the world?”

“You’ve done more than enough for the world,” Stephen assured him. “And before you say otherwise, you’re more than a good enough husband and the best dad. You know that the kids and I are going above and beyond just because we love you and we don’t need an excuse to show it, but why not? You don’t get enough grandiose displays of affection despite all the ones that you give out.” 

Tony smiled, shifting to rest his head in Stephen’s lap. “So Pepper and Christine are still on about the wedding present?” 

“Big-fucking-time,” Stephen replied. “Wanna bet that she’s going to bring it up today?” 

“We both know she’s going to, we can’t bet on things we’re both right about,” Tony said. “When has that ever worked?”

“When it leads to cuddling or making out,” Stephen said, laying next to Tony and hugging him.

Tony laughed, burying his head in Stephen’s shoulder. “True. Do I have time to take a nap? I didn’t get any sleep last night.”

“You should, Morgan called Christine over and she’s going to help the kids bake,” Stephen replied. “I’ll stay with you while you rest.”

Tony grabbed a blanket and wrapped it around the both of them, snuggling closer to Stephen. It was quiet for a few minutes before he whispered: “Last night I dreamt about when I was younger, and what my birthdays were like. But it was different, it was like I was looking at what I’d always wanted but never gotten. Isn’t that stupid, that I’d be thinking about everything I didn’t have? Even in my sleep I’m still a selfish bastard, and I didn’t even want anything material, just love.”

He must’ve been half asleep while he was talking, because next thing Stephen knew Tony was snoring softly into his shoulder.

“You’re not selfish,” he said, unsure if Tony could hear his words but needing to say them anyway. “When you wake up, and for every bit of time going forward, you’re going to be loved and celebrated the way you deserve. A day won’t go by where I or the kids won’t tell you we love you, that much I swear to you.”

Tags: @stark-strange-love @considering3000homicide @kiwidino @chocopiggy @daisypoisonpen @ayyy-its-an-idiot

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I was halfway through the day when I thought “hey, it’s Tony Stark’s birthday, should I write something for it?”

So I thought long and hard (five minutes) about what I should write before remembering that I had some kinktober prompts in my drafts that I never wrote and figured I’d come back to later … and why not now?

Happy Birthday Mr. Stark

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Tony: I completely stand by what I said when I was drunk.
Stephen: You were yelling at me about how we don’t deserve puppies.
Tony: Listen. We live in a cruel, disgusting world that is dark and angry. Have you ever seen a puppy, Stephen? They are soft, fluffy and pure.
Stephen: …are you crying?
Tony: They are entirely too pure for this ugly world. We must protect them.
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The Avengers (Infinity War) - Stephen Strange x Reader, angst
Summary: You watched your hand drift away from you in what felt like a dream. You thought it odd that no memories drifted through your head. Wasn’t that supposed to happen to the dying?


You trusted Stephen. From the moment you met him, to the first time he did something risky, to the first time he had told you to close your eyes while he kissed your lips, his hands roaming your body…

You trusted him with your love and your life.

You trusted him, still, here on Titan, where people turned to ashes.

Mantis was gone. Then Drax. Then Quill. You turned to Stephen and he was a steady calm. His eyes were filled with a million apologies that you knew you would never hear.

It felt like wind, a soft tugging at the very fibre of your being. There was a relief to it that made you sigh in the silence that descended upon you. You watched your hand drift away from you in what felt like a dream. You thought it odd that no memories drifted through your head. Wasn’t that supposed to happen to the dying?

You wanted to ask Stephen a million questions: Where would you go? Would it hurt much more than the crushing weight of defeat? Was this how it was meant to go; victory tethered to the ground with stakes of heartache? Would he be joining you in that which lay beyond? 

You looked again at the man you loved - who knew what was ahead but still felt the sting of it. He knew of the only victorious outcome in 14,000,605. In how many did he watch you die? In how many did  he see this very scene before him play out like a broken record? How many night would it haunt him? How many times did he this destruction and feel the acute pain no less than the time before?

His eyes were heavy with knowledge, laden with grief.

You smiled sadly, feeling your soft death.

“I trust you,” and your words became dust.

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