#stephen strange⭐interactions

[starsinshadows]

stephen strange tag dump

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[starsinshadows]

shieldretired​:

                       STEVE FEELS BAD IMMEDIATELY. He didn’t mean to make Strange feel — self-conscious or something about the scars on his hands. Steve, more than anyone, knows what it’s like to have a body that doesn’t want to cooperate or that doesn’t look like anyone else’s. The serum fixed him, sure, but the memories of every gal turning her nose up at him, at muttered curses and pitying glances… well, they stay with you forever. Despite that, Steve decides not to say anything right now because he doesn’t want to draw attention to a topic Strange very obviously dislikes. 

                         "I’d say no threat responds well to punching, magic or not, unless you knock them out with the first try,“ he mutters. "And no, the bees aren’t safe, they’re still very much dying. Which we should do something about, by the way. Can’t you, I don’t know, put a protection spell around them? I wouldn’t mind if some mosquitoes died for that.” Now that the serum doesn’t get rid of those awful bites within hours anymore, Steve holds a grudge.

    If he were asked, Stephen would absolutely deny that there was any reason for him to feel self-conscious over the scars. He’d have reason after reason for why they didn’t matter, including the fact that he was doing far better work in mysticism than he’d even dreamed of in medicine, and all of the reasons would be true. That didn’t stop the gesture to hide them, and it didn’t stop them from being the source of the tremble in his hands, the cause of the chronic pain he felt except when doing magic, or the deep down reminder that the brought on of who he’d once been. They were his warning against arrogance, a reminder that he had needed to be humbled and the fall that had tried to break him. It had nothing to do with Steve and everything to do with himself.     “Fair enough. Some stop being threats sooner with different kinds of punching, then,” he offered as a correction, raising his eyebrows as though to ask if that was good enough, and checked his nose. Good enough, for now, which meant he could address the next correction that came from Rogers taking him too literally. “They may be, but it’s not a result of magic. That’s all people, and no, I’m not potentially upsetting the balance of ecosystems by sacrificing mosquitoes for bees. Contact your local politicians, I’m sure they’d listen better to Captain America.”

[starsinshadows]

@shieldretired​ isn’t actually wrong...           "that’s how people get killed in horror movies, you know?" (For Stephen)

     “Most people in horror movies aren’t us. It’ll be fine,” he said, knowing exactly the kind of horror movie fodder they were absolutely dealing with. “Probably.”

[starsinshadows]

@intombed​ bringing out the big guns...

          ❝ you have passion and passion is everything. ❞   / morgan for stephen

     “Much like yourself, I’d assume. In this case, unfortunately, I need knowledge and passion, which is why I’m here. You’ve had the Darkhold in your possession before, haven’t you?”

[starsinshadows]

@shieldretired​ is being rushed...

          “don’t  get  your  knickers  in  a  twist!” (for Dr. Strange)

    “I’m sorry, is my timing inconvenient for you?” he snapped, the sarcasm obvious, but he really didn’t think he was asking for much here. For all of his magic and learning, he was still only human on the durability scale.

[starsinshadows]

firelightfables​:

It had been a question burning on his mind since he heard the monniker and though the explanation perhaps was not nearly as involved as he’d hoped Bruce took it nonetheless. A somewhat incredulous hum going with it. Though what did the good doctor have to lose in lying?

Glancing at the kitchen table, Bruce hesitated, then finally sat. Half expecting something odd to happen, particularly as whatever was in the fridge decided to thump again.

[ Table probably fine. Hulk won’t let it hurt Banner. ]

Appreciated. 

Eyes watched Stephen from behind his glasses, long fingers adjust his own frames. Not wary of what was being made so much as the person making it. It wasn’t that he didn’t trust Dr. Strange; he absolutely did. Enough. He did enough. But the man was more or less an unknown and he could imagine that the awkward here went both ways.

[ Nice. Hulk like him. Think he just used to being alone. ]

Likely right. As the Cloak settled like a cat, Bruce wondering if it purred, he let his shoulders loosen a bit. Hulk had decent taste in others. If Hulk liked the Cloak, and the Cloak liked Stephen? Perhaps his paranoia was flaring for nothing.

“Hulk’s got a way with people, especially the misunderstood.” It wasn’t much of an explanation, but it was the truth. Bruce shrugged a bit. “It’s a gift of his. I suppose it extends to magical artifacts now too.” He could have sworn the Cloak swished, pleased. “Think we were equally surprised to see it out and about. You’re not much of one to get involved in Avenger business. I’m not sure I even knew you were in town. Were you involved in that Westview incident?”

    Bruce didn't sound particularly convinced about his name, and he smiled as he set sugar and a powdered creamer out - the refrigerator was making enough noise to make clear why Stephen didn't bother opening it, or so he thought. "I thought you might not believe it, but it's true. Take it you're not the sort to believe in fate or anything like that?"     He sat closest to the fridge, hoping that would put Bruce at ease without actually mentioning it, though the thing had a latch that certainly looked like it was meant to hold the door shut firmly from the outside. The Cloak shifted so that he wasn't leaning back against it, probably so that it could flit off to interact with Bruce should the mood strike, though it stayed put for the time being.     "Technically, I live 'in town', so I'm usually around in some way or other, but you're right, of course. Avengers business usually doesn't have a lot to do with me, and there are other threats that don't get your attention that fall more into my jurisdiction, so to speak. I'm here if you need help, but picking my battles is not the worst lesson I've tried learning," he admitted. He could have tried sticking his nose into every issue that struck New York and the world, but that would leave him very little time to recover, and there were plenty of others running around watching for that kind of trouble. It was his kind of trouble that most of them missed.     Apparently, the Cloak was interested in a different kind of trouble, though Stephen couldn't argue with the results. Offering Bruce and Hulk sanctuary when they needed it was worth the attention and the Cloak wandering off on its own. "Well, I guess that makes my Cloak better at making friends than I am, which really isn't nearly as surprising as it should be," he said good-naturedly, It was probably true, anyway.     "Ah, no, I wasn't here for Westview. Unexpected business in the Dark Dimension, followed by a turf war in the den that had to be broken up. It's been a busy few weeks. When I looked in, SWORD was heavily involved, and Wanda was gone. "

[starsinshadows]

@shieldretired​ should understand that there’s a drama allowance in superhero hijinks...

          "That was a bit over the top, don't you think?" (For a certain Doctor Strange)

     “After some of the trick shield shots I’ve seen you take, you have no room to talk, Rogers,” he pointed out, though if they were being fair, magic was inherently more flashy and dramatic than the standard superhero fare. He was making no attempt to make it any less.

[starsinshadows]

@kingofhawk​​ is getting some serious squinting...

          “ you’re like a james bond villain. ”

     “I’m choosing to take that as a compliment, considering they’re usually intelligent, well-dressed and have a plan.”

[starsinshadows]

@supermantm​ hopefully showed up with some excedrin in his pocket...

          ❝ It was so quiet as to be almost inaudible, but was definitely words, the same words over and over. ❞ for mister doctor : )

     “What are you doing?” he asked, and even as the words left his mouth, Stephen knew it was a mistake, but he just couldn’t help himself. 

[starsinshadows]

@mystictricks​ gets points for good use of the pun...

          “Strange place to fall asleep.” @stephen

     “Not sleeping, but the location does leave something to be desired for meditation,” he admitted, not opening his eyes or interrupting his focus enough to give her his full attention. “Namely, there are distractions. Distractions that know my name.”

[starsinshadows]

@stcrmwtch​ should see the rest of the house...

          “ couple gallons of paint, a few exorcisms and this place’ll be ready to go. ” (leah & strange)

     “At this point, an exorcism would just piss off the house, so I’d be careful how loudly you say that,” he told her, and whether he was teasing or serious, his tone didn’t quite let on. “Also don’t open any doors unless I tell you to. That includes the refrigerator.”

[starsinshadows]

@spiderbitten​ might need some ground rules for the house...

          “ couple gallons of paint, a few exorcisms and this place’ll be ready to go. ” @ Strange

     The Sanctum Sanctorum was a lot to take in, and even if someone was used to oddities, it tended to get a lot of comments, not to mention Stephen’s general need to give warnings as they wandered around it. “Most exorcisms involve a lot of talking, and I know this might be difficult for you, but I’m going to need you not to talk to anything that looks like it’s looking back at you. Or even if it’s not. Just try not to talk to anything that isn’t obviously myself or Wong, alright?”

[starsinshadows]

@petaldragons​​ could really use a wellness check for Wanda

     This visit was bound to happen, they both knew it in advance even if she couldn't read the future, but the plot twist here was that Stephen was not the Sorcerer Supreme anymore, and he wasn't there on business. This was a social call, perhaps with a bit of professional curiosity mixed in, but social nonetheless. He couldn't deny that the Wellness Check really should have come sooner, but he hadn't realized that she wouldn't be surrounded by other people driving her up the wall trying to make sure she was alright, and that would have made him crazy. Now he knew he should have risked it.      Who knew, though, perhaps she'd had people available, and it had just been a bad day that prompted the Westview incident. He'd certainly stood on the precipice of those moments, each breath threatening which direction he might fall - so far, he'd stayed the right course, but his lessons had been hard won. What would he truly do if the sacrifice was more than he could bear?      Food for thought, and not particularly good, at that, but he pressed on, knocking at the door and smiling just a little when she opened up. "Wanda, I'm sorry to intrude, but I...thought it had been too long. Can I come in?"

[starsinshadows]

shieldretired​:

                         "THE BLOND JOCK is usually the boyfriend of the blond chick, and they tend to die together or in quick succession, so I’m still not really reassured here.“ There’s some kind of muffled sound coming from his right, but when he looks, there’s nothing there. Or he can't see anything, at least. "Okay, so, how many eyes does it have exactly, and why didn’t you say anything about tentacles? It means it has tentacles, right?” It’s followed by a heartfelt urgh.

     He didn’t point out that it hadn’t really been meant to be terribly reassuring, but he didn’t think it really needed to be said when Steve had so aggressively managed his own conclusion and frankly, the less talking was probably for the better. Stephen was pretty sure that if Captain America died on his watch, he’d have some kind of Avenger-something lodged firmly up his ass, but that was a more distant concern than the horror movie they were in currently. He was on the move, taking the sound they’d both heard as a good excuse to move along, at least until they could find a more defensible position. “Some breeds do, in fact, have tentacles. And twelve eyes.”

[starsinshadows]

shieldretired​:

                       STEVE MAKES SOME VAGUE GESTURES. “Out of the two of us, I am the blond chick here, and they’re usually the first to die. So excuse me if I’m not super confident about this situation. Crashing a plane? Okay. Getting eaten by a monster with 23 eyes and tentacles? Not so much.”

     “You’re not the blond chick, you’re the blond jock, there’s a big difference in survivability,” he pointed out, which didn’t touch on the fact that the survivability was probably only an extra 20 minutes of movie time, but he was going for optimism here. “Not that it matters because you’re also Captain America and horror movie rules obviously don’t apply to superheroes, and it doesn’t have 23 eyes.”

[starsinshadows]

shieldretired​:

                      “THERE IS NOTHING WRONG WITH USING YOUR GOD-GIVEN HANDS TO PUNCH SOMEONE,” Steve mutters, sneaking a glance at Strange’s hands and then amending: “Or feet. Or knee. Or elbow.” He could go on and on (head, full-body-check, all that), but he realizes he’s a physical fighter just like Bucky or Sam or everyone else with a military background. Stephen Strange used to be a neurosurgeon. He has probably never even been in a bar fight before he found out about all this wizard stuff.

                         Luckily, the bleeding has stopped a little, so Steve stops worrying so much, too, but still hands the other man a couple of clean tissues. “You what, lose a hair for every portal you open?” A dubious glance is directed at Strange’s head. Save for the gray on his temples, everything looks fine. “Doesn’t seem like it. But you’re right: I probably really don’t want to know. What if it turns out wizards are responsible for the global bee death because for every candle you light magically, a poor bee is killed? Nope, let me live in blissful ignorance.” Steve peers at Strange’s nose again. “Please tell me it has stopped. I’m still feeling bad about this.”

     He caught the correction immediately and the hand not holding a tissue vanished into the folds of his cloak, while he shifted the tissue to cover more of the scars. “I’ve punched people before, Rogers. There are just some threats that don’t respond well to your kind of punching.”     The look he gives Steve as he accepts the fresh tissues, the old ones taken by that free hand before disappearing into the cloak again, very much has the knowledge behind it that he could tell Steve what some of the other costs were, but that he wouldn’t like it. “The bees are safe, Steve, trust me, and the bleeding is nearly stopped. I wouldn’t feel bad, if I were you, it was nothing.”