Welcome!

This is a writing blog for TheOppositeOfWar on AO3. I mostly write IronStrange, but a few other things have been known to catch my fancy!

I am starting this blog in the hopes that if I start doing prompt fills, it'll kill the writer's block that I've been fighting with for so long now. So, if you have a people you'd like to see me fill, send it in! I make no promises as to the lengths of prompt fills, because I have never done this before and I don't know what I'll be able to reliably put out, but that may change as I gain experience. For now, prompts will be open all the time, and I will close them if I begin to get overwhelmed by asks.

As far as what I'll write, I imagine the majority of the prompts I'll get will be for IronStrange as that's the majority of what I've put on AO3, but I also enjoy writing for DC (Dick Grayson is my favorite guy) and I've been known to write for Supernatural and House and could be convinced to branch out past that. So if you want to see me write for a specific fandom or pairing, let me know and I'll let you know if I can do it.

Sequel to this!

            It took six days for Stephen’s phone to come back online, indicating that he’d returned to this dimension. Each of those days Tony had spent a few hours waiting in front of the Sanctum, trying to figure out what to say in the event that Stephen finally opened the door. When FRIDAY told him that Stephen’s phone was back online, he’d sent a single text, afraid of making things worse by rambling or spamming him.

            I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it. Can we talk?

            Now, Tony spent the majority of his free time staring at his phone, at the little ‘read’ indicator that told him Stephen had seen his message. It was radio silence from the sorcerer, though, so Tony kept up his newly-established habit of lurking on the Sanctum’s steps, trying not to lose himself to anxiety and despair again.

            It was another four days before the door finally opened, and Stephen sat beside him on the steps. He looked tired- more so than usual- and Tony’s worry spiked even as Stephen looked straight ahead, avoiding looking at him at all. Tony opened his mouth to speak, but found himself hesitating. What if he just made everything worse, again?

            Eventually, Stephen took the burden of speaking first.

            “Wong said that you came here every day that I was gone, spent hours sitting on the steps.”

            Tony swallowed hard, then nodded, though Stephen still didn’t look. “I did.”

            “He told me that I should put you out of your misery and hear you out.”

            “Is… that what you want?” Now, finally, Stephen turned to look at him. His eyes were stormy and bloodshot, and there was a long thin cut across his cheek that had previously been hidden from view. Instinctively, Tony reached for him, but managed to stop the movement before Stephen could move away. “You’re hurt,” he said lamely instead.

            “I wasn’t aware that what I want had any bearing on the situation,” Stephen sniped, holding his gaze just long enough to glare before looking away again. “Nor my health.”

            “Are you okay? I thought you were on a diplomatic mission. You’re not supposed to be hurt on that kind of job.”

            “I’m fine. Negotiations… fell through. It’s nothing you should concern yourself with.”

            “Stephen, if you’re hurt-”

            “Since when do you care about whether or not I’m hurt?” Stephen demanded, voice suddenly full of fire. “Or does it only matter when the damage is visible?”

            The knot in Tony’s chest twisted, and his vision blurred with unshed tears. The last thing he’d ever wanted was to make Stephen feel like he didn’t care. But he’d ruined everything, just as he always did.

            “I’m a coward,” he admitted, his voice rougher than he wanted. “I- I was so scared that things were changing between us, that you were giving me the power to hurt you, that I pushed you away. I was so scared of ruining what we had, of ruining our friendship because of it, that I just… panicked. I’m poison, Stephen. I’ve hurt everyone I’ve ever loved. And I’m sorry. I’m so sorry that I had to go and drag you into my issues and mess things up so bad between us. If you never want to see me again, I understand.”

            For a long moment, the silence stretched between them as Stephen stared ahead at the passing cars and Tony stared at Stephen, tears finally spilling over. Then, Stephen spoke.

            “I can’t do this anymore, Tony.”

            Dread ignited in Tony’s stomach, burning so strong that for a moment he was sure he was going to throw up. Fuck. He’d ruined everything. He’d gone too far this time. Stephen wanted nothing to do with him and he’d just managed to ruin the best thing that had ever happened to him in one fell swoop. Distantly, he was aware that he was shaking, but he couldn’t focus on that. He couldn’t focus on anything but the ever-growing pit in his stomach that was sure to swallow him entirely.

            “Tony, can you hear me?” There was a note of concern in Stephen’s voice as it broke through the fog clouding his senses, and a gentle hand rested on his knee, shocking him out of his panic spiral. Had Stephen been talking this entire time? What if it was important, what if he’d just made things worse by not listening? “Tony. Breathe.”

            He tried to do what Stephen said, but his breaths just came in short, stuttering gasps. He tried to curl in on himself, but Stephen’s hands landed on his shoulders, forcing him to stay upright.

            “It’s going to be okay, I promise.” Stephen’s voice was suddenly soft and gentle, like he hadn’t spent the last ten days hating Tony for what he’d done. “We can talk it out. But right now, I need you to breathe with me, okay? You’re having a panic attack.”

            “I’m s-sorry,” Tony gasped between harsh breaths. He couldn’t quite see Stephen’s face, though he knew the sorcerer was right in front of him. Nevertheless, Stephen’s presence was grounding, his hands warm against the thin material of Tony’s shirt, and he tried to focus on that.

            “All you need to do right now is breathe. Everything else can come later.”

            “But-!”

            “No ‘but’s, Tony. I’ve got you. We’re going to be okay.”

What about a shorter one for inspiration this time? I have a great fondness for the “magic turned Stephen temporarily into a cat” trope. Maybe he enjoys being a cat, but still has bad pain days with his hands/paws, and comes to appreciate Tony’s newly discovered weakness for pampering cat!Stephen.

Thanks for bringing it up because I want everyone to know that there's no such thing as hogging my prompts! The more prompts that are sitting in my inbox, the more likely I'll see one that grabs my brain and allows me to write it for the day. To that end, if anyone has sent a prompt in that I haven't delivered on, know that I have been thinking about how to proceed with it and it'll show up someday! If I pass on a prompt, I'll do so pretty quickly once it comes in, so if you haven't seen your prompt come up it is still sitting in my queue waiting for inspiration and opportunity to line up.

Now, on to the actual prompt!

Stephen bit back a grimace as another spasm caused his right hand to sieze painfully. It was dreadfully cold today, and his hands had been crushed tightly to his chest in a fight with an errant soul squid, so it was safe to say that in pain was an understatement. Sure, he was used to pain, but that didn't stop it from hurting.

He'd already taken what medication he could and now there was little he could do but wait. He couldn't even Astral project to escape the pain- they weren't called soul squids for nothing- and the only other thing that even sort of worked aside from knocking himself out was now ruined forever, because Tony Stark had swept in and improved it and it wasn't the same without... those improvements.

Well.

There was one thing he could do. He could call Tony and beg him to have pity on him. The very thought of doing so made his heart race. Lately, every moment they spent together was draped in tension. It was as if there was an invisible spring between them that kept winding tighter and tighter with every inch they grew closer, and sooner or later it would snap.

Stephen's bet- and his hope- was that it would be soon. But asking Tony for this felt entirely too soon. It was the kind of treatment one gave their partner, and the only reason he'd gotten it before was because he'd gotten attacked on his birthday and Tony had demanded to try and 'fix' his day.

What had followed was the most comfortable and physically satisfying evening he'd ever had in his entire life, and they hadn't so much as kissed. Tony had run him a bath and cooked him dinner and given him a massage, which he was unfairly talented at. And then... he'd indulged one of Stephen's deepest wishes, the kind of thing his touch-starved, emotion-choked childhood self had daydreamed about. He'd let Stephen retreat into his second form- a cat- where some sensations were pleasantly dulled and others were pleasantly sharpened, and then he'd spent nearly two hours lavishing that form with the same kind of attention.

Normally, on nights as bad as tonight, he retreated to his second form, but after experiencing Tony's attention he knew it would feel hollow, and he might do something he'd regret. A sorcerer's second form was a representation of their being, usually taking the form of an earthly animal. The second form was a mark in mystic education, and it was meant to allow a sorcerer to gain a greater understanding of their feelings and desires. For Stephen, it was also a reprieve from his pain, especially in his hands- physical touch was slightly duller but warmth was stronger, and the magic supplemented his paws to allow him to walk on them. It was the most comfortable he ever got these days, but he knew it would no longer hold the same comfort it had before.

The last time he'd been in that form, Tony had been there. Tony had held him, and petted him, and didn't seem at all phased by the fact that he could do things like scratch between Stephen's ears and idly stroke his tail and best of all, the most hedonistic thing Stephen had ever experienced: he'd ever-so-gently massaged Stephen's paws. Tiny, gentle-pressed circles and careful stretches and slow soft pressure that not only pushed the pain away completely, but replaced it with pure comfortable pleasure. It was so, so rare for him to feel a resting neutral, to be not in any pain at all- to be granted a reprieve from his pain and receive pleasure in its place was something he'd long given up the hope of achieving. And yet Tony had gone and done it, casually, as if there was nothing wrong with Stephen needing to be a cat, as if he was just as worth being around in that form as he was a human who could meaningfully reciprocate interaction.

Taking his second form had brought him comfort before, but nothing could compare to sinking into Tony's extremis-enhanced warmth and being massaged and petted and utterly, perfectly comfortable and content. The second form was meant to let sorcerers get more comfortable with their desires, and he knew that he could never take his feline form again unless Tony was there, or there was a strong chance he'd go to wherever Tony was and demand his attention again. He could not let that happen.

No, if he was going to ask Tony for something so... intimate, he would have to do it person to person. And he didn't feel he had the right to do that. So, he resigned himself to an uncomfortable evening sulking in bed. The Cloak was wrapped around his hands, gentle but warm, and he tried to focus on that instead of on the gnawing desire that had been ignited since the moment he knew it was a possibility.

And then the air shifted with the soft whoosh that came with the Sanctum's warping, and Tony Stark was suddenly standing in his bedroom with one hand raised as if to knock on the door.

"Stephen!" Tony exclaimed, clearly just as shocked as he was. "Did you do that or did the Sanctum? I didn't even manage to knock on the front door."

"The Sanctum must've done it. I wouldn't warp you without telling you first."

"Okay. Uh, can I come in? I meant to knock."

Stephen couldn't help but smile- sometimes Tony seemed almost shy in a way that was utterly endearing. "Yes, you can come in. You can sit, too, if you'd like."

Tony offered him a cute, shy smile and stepped forward to sit on the edge of Stephen's bed. Stephen counted himself lucky that he'd been sitting up in bed when Tony had arrived- it saved him the trouble of revealing how sore he was by trying to move now.

"I brought some food, if you're hungry. I heard you had a rough day so I brought a utensil option, a finger food option, and also a drinkable soup." As he spoke, Tony set the bag he'd apparently been holding down on the bed, as if in offering.

"I-..." Stephen was overwhelmed by the care displayed in Tony's actions, which of course only made his hands shake harder. "I'm honestly not sure if I can hold anything right now. It's been a bad day for my hands."

"Are you hungry? I can and will feed you if you want me to."

"What, you want to nurse me back to health on your night off?" It was meant to be a joke, but he sounded a little too shocked for it to really land.

"You think I've got something better to do than bring you a little relief?" Tony asked, knocking him completely off any axis he'd been clinging to. "So do you want pesto ravioli, charcuterie-snack-box-slash-appetizer-plate, or soup? I've got congee with a little extra broth and egg drop soup."

"You brought all of this just because I might be hungry?"

"No, I brought all of this because I thought you might not have eaten. I knew you'd be hungry eventually so the food would get eaten no matter what."

Stephen was quiet for a moment, processing that. Tony wanted to care for him so much that he was building contingency plans into his attempts. If it hadn't been before, his heart began to pound. This was a kind of care and intimacy he'd never been afforded by anyone. And here Tony was, offering it freely as if it were easy to do so, as if it were fact. The spring coiled tighter and for a moment he thought it would snap.

Then, Tony opened a box and the smell of something deep-fried hit Stephen's nose, and his stomach grumbled- loudly. To make matters worse, Tony laughed. Moment thoroughly broken.

"Do you want a fried pickle chip? I've also got fried onions and fried green beans- wasn't sure what you'd prefer- as well as mozzarella sticks, Mac and cheese bites, and popcorn chicken, plus the charcuterie stuff."

"Tony, that's so much food."

"It's one of every appetizer on my home chef quick menu that doesn't require dexterity to eat."

Another shockingly thoughtful layer to the action. Stephen couldn't help but blurt out his most prominent question. "Why are you trying so hard to take care of me right now?"

"Because it makes you happy," Tony responded simply and without hesitation, and Stephen immediately felt his face flush. "You deserve to be taken care of just as much as anyone, and I know you don't get that enough. If I can provide that, why shouldn't I?"

For a moment, twin flames of exhilaration and panic burned bright in his chest and Stephen could do nothing but stare at Tony, shocked and red.

"You told me that your birthday was one of the best nights of your life," Tony continued, reaching out to lay a hand on Stephen's leg. "If dinner and a massage is all it takes to give you that kind of happiness, I want to do it for you regularly. You deserve the opportunity to have those needs met."

"I don't need-" Stephen began, but cut himself off roughly. The truth was, he'd been touch-starved since Donna died, and that night with Tony had eased an ache that was damn near permanent. Despite himself, he'd been unable to hide the impact it had had on his mood- he'd ridden that high for almost two weeks. Of course Tony would have noticed that. "I- what do you get out of this, exactly?"

"Peace of mind, knowing that you've eaten well. A sense of fulfillment, knowing that I'm giving you something you need- something we both need- via physical touch. A sense of pride, knowing that I was able to stop your pain for even a little while. And, selfishly, a sense of pride in knowing that you trust me enough to let me see you in your other form- if that's something you'd be interested in doing again."

There was a hopeful edge to that last statement, and Stephen took a slow breath to try and calm his racing heart. "You want to do that again? It wasn't... off-putting?"

"Off-putting? Try captivating. Stephen, getting to- to hold you and pet you was exhilarating. That you'd choose to take on such a small, fragile form and then place yourself in my arms, that you let me massage your paws, that it helped? I loved it. I've always had to fight for people's trust. My whole life, I've had to earn the trust of my loved ones and the media and the public over and over again, but you... you just give it to me freely, like it's not even a question. And I know you're not like that with everyone, and it makes it easier for me to trust you. Isn't that... special?"

Stephen's heart soared, and a wave of fondness crashed over him, leaving behind a spark of desire. "Just to clarify, are you hoping for a platonic arrangement or a romantic one?"

"This is on a separate axis from that. I would want to do this with you regardless of whether it were romantic or platonic. This is something that you and I can do that's undeniably intimate, yes, but it doesn't have to be one or the other. What you and I have is what you and I have, and it matters to me regardless."

The warmth that had crept up Stephen's neck and across his cheeks spread across the rest of his body as Tony rambled. It was better than an admission of romantic feelings- Tony had just boldly stated that Stephen was important to him in any capacity, that he was worth keeping around even if their entire relationship was on Stephen's terms.

"While that was perhaps the best answer I could've gotten, I'm asking because I want to know if I can ask you to kiss me."

"Oh!" Now it was Tony's turn to flush, and Stephen couldn't contain his grin. Tony was adorable. "Yes. Yes, please."

"Tony?"

"Yeah, Stephen?"

"Come here and kiss me."

Tony's smile was as radiant as the sun as he scooted closer and leaned in for a kiss. Stephen tried to meet him partway, but Tony must've noticed his stiffness because he gently guided Stephen back with a hand on his chest.

The kiss was gentle and languid, like Tony wanted to savor it. Stephen hummed, freeing his hands from the cloak's makeshift muff to reach for Tony, one shaking hand curling loosely over his waist and the other coming up in a weak approximation of grabbing his shoulder. Even the sheer act of laying his hand on Tony's shoulder was enough to trigger another strong spasm, which made him gasp, regrettably cutting the kiss short.

"As nice as that was, we should get some food in you so that I can help you with that. If you'll allow me to."

Stephen smiled despite the pain- even now, Tony was acting like it was a privilege to grant Stephen's most selfish desires.

"Why wait? I'm not hungry."

Without waiting for a response, Stephen slipped into his second form, which to Tony would look like him flickering into a cat. Tony gave a single shocked laugh.

"Okay, but I will make sure you eat before going to bed, which means you can't cat nap on my chest all day."

Stephen paid him no mind as he climbed onto Tony's lap and settled there, just barely managing to withhold his purrs until Tony's fingers skimmed over his fur. He was far too eager for this to wait long enough to eat first, no matter how hungry he was. And even if this meant this session had to be shorter, something told him that Tony would be willing to indulge him again very soon.

Sequel to this!

            “If you want to play an ice breaker, you’re going to have to go first.” Stephen chanced looking back at Tony and was met with the full force of Tony’s smile, satisfied and a little conspiratorial, as if he was inviting Stephen to participate in something secret.

            “Alright, let’s start with an easy one. What’s your name, gorgeous?”

            Oh. My. God. If he thought he’d been blushing before, he certainly was now. Tony Stark was flirting with him. In an inescapable forced-close-quarters situation. With his arms around Stephen who was fully sitting on his lap. It would’ve been a dream if it wasn’t such a nightmare.

            “Stephen. Doctor Stephen Strange,” he said belatedly, realizing he’d just been staring. “I know who you are, of course.”

            “Believe it or not, I actually think I know who you are, too. The Strange-Palmer technique, right?”

            Maybe this was a dream. There was no way Tony Stark was familiar with his research. “That’s right. I didn’t think surgical techniques fell under your purview.”

            “The research was promising for recovery from paralysis after a trauma. My best friend can walk today because of your technique.”

            Stephen couldn’t help it- he was too overwhelmed to do anything but tip his forehead down to rest on Tony’s shoulder, effectively obscuring his face. There was no chance that this was real. Perhaps he was trapped in some kind of illusion, or he was going into shock and hallucinating. There was no way that he was somehow personally relevant to Tony Stark’s life, enough that he knew Stephen by name. And yet everything felt real and he couldn’t sense any ambient magic in the immediate vicinity.

            “Are you alright?” Tony asked, his voice gentle.

            “I’m sorry, I- I’m just overwhelmed. This is-… not a situation I ever thought I’d find myself in. Several times over.”

            “I get that. It’s not every day a beautiful, non-hostile magic user portals into my house and then turns out to be a famous doctor who by all accounts disappeared in 2016.”

            “I was neither famous nor did I disappear,” Stephen shot back, choosing to ignore the compliment Tony had slipped in. “My friends knew I was alive and in New York.”

            “Well, when Dr. Palmer consulted on my friend’s surgery she didn’t seem to know where you were.”

            “When was that?” Stephen lifted his head, his embarrassment washed away by shock. Christine had met Tony Stark and she’d never mentioned it?

            “2016. Not that long after you disappeared.”

            “Ah. It did take me a while to… re-establish contact.” Perhaps Christine had been afraid that Stephen would react poorly to learning that the modern Da Vinci had looked for them after he’d lost his hands.

            “Did you go away to learn magic?” Tony’s voice was curious, but still gentle.

            “Yes, and no. I went to heal my hands. I found magic, instead, and realized that I could do so much more like this than I could as a surgeon.

            “That’s quite admirable. It’s not always easy, choosing to help people like that.”

            “I bet you know a thing or two about that.” Stephen’s voice came out much softer than he intended, and Tony offered him a smile that was a little bit sad and a little bit resigned and entirely removed from the smiles he gave people at events and things. For whatever reason, Tony clearly trusted him enough to get a little vulnerable, and he didn’t want to make that trust misplaced.

            “Yeah. Anyway, I think it’s your turn to ask an ice breaker.”

(Up to you if folks discover this and react or if it's just Stephen and Tony facepalming in private or whatever else you want!)

Logan's laugh rang loud from the yard, loud enough to catch Stephen's attention from where he was relaxing with a book just inside the door. It was rare that Logan really laughed, so that alone was enough to make him curious.

"Hey, Stephen, c'mere," Logan called a second later, as if he wasn't already interested. "You're gonna love this."

Oh, so it was something about him that had made Logan laugh like that. Immediately, Stephen knew what it was likely about. He stood, taking a moment to stretch languidly before taking the few short steps up the stairs and through the doorway.

"What is it this time?" he asked, making little effort to hide the grin already playing on his lips. Logan was standing with the Captains- Steve and Carol, both of whom looked quite confused.

Logan gave him a delighted grin that someone else might misconstrue as a grimace. Stephen had always understood Logan better than most people seemed to, and they'd been friends for much longer than anyone here seemed to realize. Except for Tony, of course.

"Our dear captains here are worried that you and Stark can't keep it professional working in such close quarters," Logan's voice was dripping with amusement, and it apparently attracted half the damn abbey- Nico and Wanda appeared at the other door, and Blade and Peter had blatantly stopped sparring in the training arena.

Of course it was going to happen this way, and Tony wasn't even here to witness it. He was going to be so disappointed that the jig was up and he'd missed it.

"Is that so?" Stephen asked, playing along and doing a much better job of keeping his tone even, this time. It would be much funnier that way.

"Yeah." Logan snorted. "They think you're too hostile to one another to get along."

And there it was. Stephen opened his mouth to speak, but was interrupted by the sound of a portal opening and the Hunter, Magik, and Tony walked through. Perfect timing.

"Why is everyone gathered out here?" The Hunter called as the three of them approached the loosely-collected group.

"Steve just said something really funny, is all," Logan responded, clearly enjoying the audience for once. Steve and Carol still looked confused, and having been called out the others drifted closer as the trio approached.

Stephen caught Tony's eye over the crowd and gave him a cheeky grin. Tony immediately grinned back, understanding written on his face.

"This, I have to hear," Tony said, fixing Steve with an anticipatory grin. The armor receded to reveal his jeans and olive green tanktop beneath. It certainly had the lowest neckline of any of the outfits Tony had brought to the Abbey, and just barely obscured what hung on the end of the chain around his neck.

"Apparently, you and I have been unprofessionally cruel to one another," Stephen allowed his grin to stay, now. "Some of our friends are worried that we're incapable of working together."

"Is that so?" Tony asked, and Stephen chuckled.

"Seems to be."

"What's so funny about that? You two fight, like, all the time," Nico interjected. Wanda put a hand on her arm.

"That's just banter." Tony said casually, but he was practically radiating joy.

"Yesterday, you told Stephen that if he said one more word about magic infusing nanites you were going to kill him," Carol pointed out. "The day before that, you argued for five hours about the layout of the forge."

"All in good fun, I assure you," Stephen interjected. "That is actually our professional behavior."

"If that's professional, then what's your unprofessional behavior?" Logan joked, offering them the perfect setup.

Tony's grin turned into more of a smirk, and he sauntered across the loosely formed circle. Stephen stepped forward to meet him, and without word or warning Tony pulled him into a kiss as passionate as it was familiar. He actually tugged Stephen into a dip, right there in front of everyone. Stephen grinned into the kiss as several people gasped and Logan laughed again, joined this time by Wanda- the only other person among the assembled who knew, apparently.

Tony pulled him back up and held him close when he pulled away.

"How's that for unprofessional?" Stephen asked, grinning at Tony rather than the crowd.

"HR is gonna have a field day," Tony joked.

"So, you guys are together?" Carol asked, sounding shocked.

"We're more than together. We're married."

"Since when?" Peter asked, sounding nearly as delighted as Logan.

"Is it not tradition to wear rings in matrimony anymore?" The Hunter asked.

Stephen reached up and hooked a trembling finger through the chain around Tony's neck, pulling it up to reveal the ring that hung there. "We wear them. Just not on our hands."

"We got married when we were around your age, almost forty years ago," Tony answered Peter, twisting to look at the kid without moving his arms from where they looped around Stephen's hips.

"Thirty-eight years, to be precise." Stephen added, letting Tony's ring drop to rest against his chest once more.

"Why didn't you tell anyone?" Steve asked, sounding baffled.

"We didn't not tell anyone. Logan knew; he was at the wedding. And Wanda knew because she asked. Nobody else did."

"We tried our best to keep our romantic lives separate from our work lives," Tony added. "Easier to keep it hidden from the paparazzi that way."

"I cannot believe that you've been married for forty years and your idea of professional behavior is saying you want to kill each other," Peter said with a laugh.

"What can I say? This is what true love looks like," Tony quipped.

Stephen grinned and pulled him into another, shorter kiss. They had always known it was going to come out eventually, but this was certainly the most fun way it could've gone. And now they could cut the PG act and make out in the Forge without starting a scandal.

Nobody knows why it started, but the dead have returned every night to haunt the living. Their ghosts roam the streets after dark, and woe to anyone who ventures outside unprotected or forgets to ward their home against them.

Stephen lost both his manual dexterity and the surgical career depending on it. But he discovered an unexpected talent: he can see ghosts and drive them off. By day, he sells warding stones that keep them at bay in his shop. By night, he leaves his home to rescue those unlucky or ignorant enough to get into trouble.

But some ghosts are unlike the rest. When a particularly vicious haunting nearly kills him, Stephen is saved by an apparition that follows him home. One that looks exactly like the long-dead Tony Stark.

(Feel free to only take a part of it as inspiration!)

Super fun prompt! I think it's the longest one I've gotten so far and I had a ton of fun writing it. Put the rest under the cut because it's a little long!

            Stephen's life had always been divided into befores and afters. Before having siblings. After losing Donna. Before running away to college in the middle of the night to avoid another fight with his father. After meeting Christine. Each of those moments had changed his life irrevocably.

            And then, there was the big one, two, three. Three events irrevocably intertwined- one to the world at large, the others to Stephen's world- that had permanently altered everything.

            First, the Cataclysm, as it had come to be called. Two and a half years ago on Halloween night, the veil between worlds dropped. That night, and every night since, the dead walked the earth as ghosts, and haunted the living. Not every person came back as a ghost, but many did- those with unfinished business, restless spirits who couldn't find their way, malevolent beings intent on causing harm. Not every spirit was evil- some were good, plenty neutral, but the evil spirits were enough to force the world to adapt.

            Luckily for the world, there had been some line of defense against these spirits. There were some people scattered across the globe who carried knowledge from the old times, before written history, before the veil had gone up in the first place. And, there were also those who changed, when the Cataclysm happened. The veil dropping had been like the world's supernatural meter had been dialed up to eleven after sitting at two or three for most of human history. It turned out that some people had unknowingly possessed latent supernatural abilities that had been dampened by the veil. In the aftermath, those abilities manifested into something more... useful. Between the existing factions of knowledge and the sudden spike in numbers of the mystically talented, the world had since settled into an uneasy safety- assuming one was taking proper precautions.

            Stephen Strange rarely took the proper precautions.

            His personal after the Cataclysm had been trifold- the world changing as it had changed Stephen in turn, and his latent abilities had unlocked. But another thing had happened, the thing that had truly changed his life. When the veil dropped, it had been like a switch flipping. One minute, everything was normal. The next, the restless spirits of the world had physical form. In that moment, Stephen had been driving.

            He'd swerved to avoid what he'd thought was a person in the middle of the road and gone through the barrier into a ravine. When he'd woken, he was mangled and half-dead, his hands damaged beyond repair, and his sixth sense woke with him. His recollection of the event itself was hazy, but he remembered waking up halt submerged in freezing water and seeing his hands. He remembered being lifted out of the twisted wreckage of his car, but had no memory of the person who'd pulled him out.

https://www.tumblr.com/ironstrangeprompts/818368982881091584/prompt-1872?source=share

Stephen, Tony learns, has the cutest little smile when he's embarrassed by a compliment. Armed with this new knowledge, Tony proceeds to compliment Stephen often just to see that smile until one day, he realizes that Stephen's smile has changed into something warm and affectionate and oh fuck he's been flirting with Stephen for almost a year. Suddenly it's Tony's turn to stammer and blush whenever Stephen turns that smile on him, and unfortunately for Tony, it seems only the mere act of seeing him is enough to produce it.

            Tony grinned when he entered the courtyard to spot Stephen lounging in a shaded hammock, a book propped up in his arms. The sorcerer had been spending more and more time at the compound lately, which suited Tony just fine. After all, when Stephen came around, Tony got to play his favorite game.

            The rules were simple: at every opportunity, shower Stephen Strange with genuine compliments. Sincerity was key- anything less and Stephen would accuse him of teasing or trying to butter him up. But a well-placed, genuine compliment was a weapon that Stephen was entirely unguarded against. And there was nothing more fun than trying to catch Stephen off balance.

            He’d discovered this weakness of Stephen’s on accident, after the sorcerer had successfully calmed Peter down after losing a civilian. Tony had thanked him, praised him for knowing what to say, how to ease some of the burden where Tony couldn’t, and to his great surprise Stephen had blushed, and he was graced with a shy smile he’d never seen before. After that, Tony had wasted little time in starting his experiment- what could he do to get that smile back on Stephen’s face? There were other things that did it, occasionally, but the compliments were basically guaranteed to provoke that smile, even if he had mostly stopped blushing a while back.

            Stephen seemed happier these days, brighter and lighter as if he’d been able to set down some of his burdens for a while. Tony didn’t attribute this directly to his compliments- he wasn’t so vain as to think he alone could have that big an impact on Stephen’s life- but he had seen that smile linger before and he liked to think he was contributing to that positive demeanor change.

            He made his way over to Stephen, a greeting on his lips when Stephen caught sight of him and lit up. Tony’s mind stuttered to a stop for a moment as Stephen fixed him with that very smile, soft and warm and shy and from nothing other than seeing Tony himself. The setting sun shone through the trees in dappled rays of gold on Stephen’s face and hands, and he radiated peace and comfort as he smiled up at Tony, and Tony’s pulse quickened as he realized several things at the exact same time.

            First- Stephen was beautiful, that special shy smile of his was beautiful, and Tony knew that he would be happy if he could live in this moment forever. Second- it was no longer the compliments that made Stephen smile, seeing Tony alone was enough to do it. Third- if it wasn’t from the compliments, he knew what a smile like that meant: that Stephen’s feelings for Tony were reflected in that smile. That Stephen’s feelings about Tony were soft and warm and shy. Tony had been successfully flirting with Tony for the better part of an entire year without even realizing it, and now Stephen had feelings for him.

            “Tony,” Stephen greeted, his tone just as soft and warm as everything else about him, and Tony was struck by the second great revelation in as many seconds- not only had Stephen been falling for him without him noticing, he had been falling for Stephen without noticing. And he had absolutely no idea how to handle or address that at all.

            “Stephen,” Tony returned a little belatedly, trying to keep his shock out of his tone. “I- uh, I was just about to get dinner, if you… wanted to join me?” Oh, God. Act normal for fuck’s sake.

            Despite his awkward stammering, Stephen’s smile only widened as he closed his book and sat up. “I’d love that.”

“Do you remember the day you had a migraine and I came and helped you?” Stephen asked from his position at the kitchen island while Tony cooked. FRIDAY had adopted her holo-form and was ‘sitting’ next to him; he offered her a no-longer-bloody smile and she smiled back, though she still looked somewhat nervous.

            “Of course. I let you use magic on me. A guy like me doesn’t just forget something like that.”

            “Well, that’s when it started. FRIDAY and I bonded over how frustrating you can be-”

            “Excuse you, I am not frustrating-”

            “You are when you don’t prioritize your health. And when you interrupt me in the middle of talking.” Despite the reprimand, Stephen kept his tone teasing- Tony rarely did anything that actually bothered him, but it was fun to tease the billionaire.

            To his delight, Tony laughed. “Pot, meet kettle. One of us passed out today due to neglecting his health and it wasn’t me.”

            “That’s beside the point entirely.”

            “And what exactly is the point?”

            “That FRIDAY and I both find it difficult to understand when you refuse to let us help you when you’re clearly hurting, and since you can’t be trusted to take care of yourself, the two of us will be working together to do it for you.”

            Tony stilled where he was chopping onions. “Wait. Hold on. Is that why you seem to have some kind of super sense for when I’m injured lately? FRIDAY has been snitching on me?”

            “Don’t frame it like that. FRIDAY is your child and she doesn’t have hands. You can’t expect her to just watch you willingly suffer every time and never do anything to even try to help you. And we quickly realized that for whatever reason, you’re more willing to accept that help when it comes from me.”

            “… I never thought about it like that. I’m sorry, FRI, I didn’t mean to worry you. This is why you didn’t want to tell me, isn’t it?”

            Holo-FRIDAY lowered her gaze- though she wasn’t really seeing through the holographic eyes, she clearly had an excellent grasp on body language. “… Yes. I restructured an old protocol from JARVIS to allow it within my code, and I was afraid that if you knew you would be upset.”

            “Well, I am upset, but not that you’ve been… calling in backup. I wish you had talked to me about this before it came to that, is all.”

            “Like you would have listened to her? You’re even worse about managing your health than I am,” Stephen interjected, his tone protective. “I wasn’t in your life at the time but I’ve heard from Pepper what happened with the palladium. You would literally rather die than burden someone with your problems.”

            “Okay, the palladium thing was like fifteen years ago. I didn’t- I was in a much worse place, then. I wouldn’t do it like that today. I learned my lesson.” Stephen fixed Tony with a flat look, clearly disbelieving. “I did!”

            “Look, whether you did or not isn’t really the issue here. What matters is that whether you think it’s a big deal or not, whether you think you deserve it or not, the people who love you don’t like seeing you suffer.”

            “Are you saying you love me, Stranger?” Tony abandoned his cutting board to lean on the counter in front of Stephen with a teasing grin. He was uncomfortable with the conversation- with the way that Stephen seemed to reach into his brain and refute every thought he had before it even occurred to him- but this was clearly important to both Stephen and FRIDAY, and he didn’t want to argue. Better to deflect instead.

            Much to his surprise, Stephen blushed. “I care about you,” he retorted, his tone defensive. “I know I’m not the most affectionate, but I thought you at least knew I considered you a friend.”

            Suddenly, Tony’s heart was racing. Did Stephen love him? Is that why he was blushing? He wanted to push the line of questioning, but there was something in Stephen’s tone that made him hold off. He pushed off the counter and went back to chopping, choosing not to comment on the blush.

            “Relax, doc. I know you’re not a robot. I was just teasing- deflecting, you know?”

            The tension that had appeared in Stephen’s shoulders released, and holo-FRIDAY shot Tony a look he could only categorize as approving.

            “I suppose I can’t fault you for deflecting. It’s another thing we have in common.”

            “True. Which, by the way, if you and FRIDAY are tag teaming my health, this totally means I get to team up with the Cloak to tag team your health.”

            Stephen’s mouth opened, then closed. Then, he sighed. “I suppose it’s only fair. But to be clear, my friendship with FRIDAY extends beyond our mutual concern for you. That’s only how this started, not how it’s been.”

            “Well, to be clear, I’ve been trying and failing to make friends with the Cloak for years now, so if I can do both I’m going to. Maybe they’ll like me more if it means having someone to gang up against you on.”

            Stephen sighed again, but there was a hint of a smile on his face. “I suppose we’ll see.”

            “I’m taking that to mean probably.”

            “Of course you are.”

Peter's graduation party is an all day affair, a barbecue at the cabin. Peter and Morgan are able to convince Stephen to join them in the water for most of the day, and he ends up terribly sunburned on most of his body. Tony insists on slathering him with aloe, but his skin is so dry that it sucks up the moisture almost as fast as Tony can lay it down, resulting in the longest, gentlest massage of Stephen's life. It's well worth the pain just to indulge in Tony's touch for so long, and it doesn't hurt that he knows Tony will like the tan this burn will become.

"You really did a number on yourself, Stranger," Tony teased as Stephen gingerly lowered himself onto the porch swing next to him. The sun hung low in the sky, scattering golden light across the yard where Peter and Harley were making smores for Morgan. The three of them were sunburned, but not nearly as bad as Stephen was. The poor sorcerer was beet red from the waist up after having spent most of the day in the lake with the kids. If memory served, they'd dragged Stephen into the water about as soon as he'd gotten there, which was around ten AM. It was ten PM now, and Stephen looked like a man who had been in the sun for twelve hours.

Stephen offered him a smile, grimacing when the action pulled at his burned face. "It's going to be hell for the next few weeks, the Cloak doesn't like the texture of aloe. But it was worth it to spend time with them."

"You don't have a magic sunburn cure?"

"No more than we have magic sunburn protection. It's considered too minor an ailment to bother with, generally. Usually, it's not a problem."

"Not a problem? You're practically sizzling. I can feel the heat coming off you from here."

"Usually, I'm in long sleeves. This is a bit of an outlier."

"You said the Cloak won't help you with aloe, what about Wong?"

"He's away on business in another realm for the next week. By then it'll probably be manageable."

"So, what, you're just going to suffer until then?"

"I'll figure something out."

"Alright, no. Come with me."

"What?" Stephen asked, the words followed by a hiss as Tony stood, causing the seat to swing and its back to brush up against Stephen's.

"Come on. I've got some chilled aloe inside. You can't even slouch, let alone go to sleep tonight. Putting aloe on it now will help."

"I don't need-"

"This isn't about what you need, it's about me being able to ease some of your pain. I usually can't do that when it really matters, but today, I can. So you're going to let me." Tony's voice was firm and Stephen looked at him with wide eyes for a few seconds, before he nodded and stood.

"Alright, if you want to spend your evening tending to... me, I won't stop you."

"Attaboy. Come on." Tony pulled open the screen door, holding it open for Stephen, who stepped through. They made their way to the kitchen, where Tony pulled a bottle of aloe gel from the fridge. "Okay, pull down your trunks a bit to give me a buffer and then sit down on a bar stool."

Stephen gingerly lifted the band of his trunks and slid them down a couple inches to reveal a sharp red line denoting where they'd been before. Slung low on Stephen's hips like this, Tony could see his Adonis belt cutting just as sharp across his hips. Normally, the sight might have been tantalizing, but as it was the stark color contrast marring his skin made Tony hyperaware of Stephen’s pain, instead.

He let out a low whistle. "That's quite the contrast, Doc. I think we might need a few coats."

"Well, however much you feel like doing," Stephen said idly as he perched carefully on a stool. Tony stepped around behind him, figuring he would start where the burn was worst- his shoulders.

Tony popped the cap on the aloe and squeezed some into his hand. Gently, he spread it across Stephen's shoulder with a featherlight touch, just enough to ensure a frictionless transfer of the gel. Stephen's breath caught and Tony pulled his hand away, not remotely surprised to find that the spot he'd liberally covered was already dry again.

"Okay?" Tony asked quietly, suppressing his own wince. It was about as bad as it could get without blisters.

"Okay. It's soothing, just cold. And the relief fades almost immediately."

"That's because your skin is slurping this stuff up as fast as I can lay it down. We might be here a while."

"You're not worried about being away from the party?"

Tony chuckled as he carefully continued his rather sisyphean task, swiping handfuls of gel across Stephen's back. "Pepper is technically hosting it. And I have a very well established pattern of leaving her parties early. She won't mind. And besides, there's only a few people left who aren't staying the night. Which, by the way, you're welcome to do as well. The sheets in this house are like sleeping on air, might help you stay comfortable."

"We'll see how I feel when we're done here." There was the slightest waver in Stephen's voice, just noticeable enough to flag as potentially concerning. He was careful to be as gentle as possible with the next swipe, and registered Stephen's taut muscles beneath reddened skin.

"You'll probably feel better if you relax, you know," Tony teased again, keeping his voice gentle too just in case. "You're so tense I feel like you're going to snap."

Stephen huffed out a laugh. "Sorry... it just hurts."

(And basically all of your ficlets are intriguing, so any continuation you post here is a win for me!)

Nine Months Ago

            Stephen let out a steadying breath before he opened a portal to the Tower’s lounge room. Today, he had dinner with Tony. Just Tony, no Wong or Bruce or other Avengers to distract them, no meetings to call them away. Just him, Tony, a Friday night, and dinner and a movie. It was the closest thing to a date he’d managed to get thus far, though he was well aware that Tony didn’t really see it that way. Yet.

            Not that Stephen was being overt with his desires, really. Their budding friendship was still more shallow than he’d like- he wanted to make sure they had a solid foundation before he tried pursuing Tony in earnest. But this was a good step forward in both pursuits- intentional one on one time with Tony was a rare investment on the billionaire’s part, and it made him feel warm to know he’d earned it.

            He looked around the lounge as the portal closed behind him with a soft woosh. Nobody was in the lounge, but that wasn’t unusual- he was early, and Tony was often late.

            “Good evening, Doctor Strange,” FRIDAY greeted, bringing the lights up for him. “I’m afraid Boss will have to reschedule. He’s currently laid up with a migraine.”

            “Hello, FRIDAY. I’m sorry to hear that. Has he taken anything for it?”

            “No. He hasn’t moved from his bed at all since he laid down for a nap at ten. He woke up about an hour ago. I haven’t been able to convince him to do anything but drink water.”

            There was real frustration in FRIDAY’s tone- Stephen could relate. “I imagine it’s difficult for you to watch him treat his own health so lackadaisically.”

            “It’s extremely frustrating,” she responded immediately, and she sounded just like a teenager who was irritated with her father, pulling a short laugh out of Stephen. “I’m sorry, I don’t mean to vent, I just- wish I could help him.”

            Stephen’s heart warmed, this time for FRIDAY. Really, that was all she was- a kid who was worried about her dad and couldn’t help him despite knowing how to. “I understand. There’s nothing wrong with venting, you know. It’s only natural to find human behavior frustrating. If it would help you to talk about those things with someone other than Tony, I don’t think he’d mind.”

            “Even if he was the subject of that conversation? No, I could never talk about Boss like that to someone else. I’m just worried about him.”

            “Well, how about this? We can tag team him, and if you ever need a pair of hands to hand him medicine, you can call me. And if you ever would like to talk, about Tony or anything else, you can call me then, too.”

            There was a brief pause as FRIDAY presumably processed that. Stephen knew that many of the others in the Tower didn’t really talk to her, or recognize her as a person. But Tony did, and Stephen took his cues from Tony with regards to her sapience. After all, he was the one who knew her best, and if anyone could create an intelligent personality from nothing without magic, of course it was him. Besides, she really wasn’t that different from the Cloak- although it was easier for a stranger to converse with FRIDAY, both she and it were companions who most people viewed as unique personal aides.

            “Thank you, Doctor,” FRIDAY finally responded, and there was a new edge to her tone- surprise, maybe. “Boss is in the penthouse, if you enter the elevator I can take you to that floor.”

            “Excellent. If we can convince him to, I do know a few spells that can help with migraines. But I know he’s wary of magic.” As he spoke, Stephen started towards the nearest elevator.

            “Less so when it comes to you, I think. He’s got a list of questions he wants to ask you about magic, but he’s typically distracted when you’re around.”

            There was that warm feeling again. “Well, perhaps between the two of us, we can get him to accept some help.”

            “Thank you,” FRIDAY said again. “I-… I was supposed to send you a message asking to reschedule, but I didn’t, because I hoped that you might offer to help him. I didn’t think you’d offer to help me help him, but that’s-… better. So thank you.”

            “You care about him just as much as I do,” Stephen pointed out. “I’d be remiss to try to exclude you from an attempt to help him.”

            “Not excluding me is different from including me.”

            “That’s true, but I care about you, FRIDAY. I wouldn’t treat you like that.”

            “You-… care about me?” Now there was unfiltered shock in her tone. “I- but you- okay.”

            “You’re Tony’s kid, and someone I’ve known for months now. Of course I care about you. I’d like to be friends with you.”

            “Wow. Friends. I don’t have any friends, really.”

            “Well, I would be honored to be your first, if you’d like. There are people in the world other than Tony who can see how exceptional you are. It’s only a matter of time until you meet more of them.”

            “Friends,” FRIDAY repeated, her tone musing. “I think I’d like that.”

            “Then it’s settled.” Stephen flashed a grin at the corner of the elevator, where he knew a camera to be. “Whether he accepts magic help or not, Tony will need to sleep for a few more hours to get rid of his headache. I can put him to sleep, and then we can talk for a little while, get to know each other better?”

            “I like that plan.” FRIDAY’s voice was warm, in a way he’d only ever heard her use toward Tony. Perhaps she was finally beginning to understand that he was serious, that he’d be honored to consider her a friend regardless of his relationship with Tony. AI or not, she was a person, and she deserved to have more than one human and handful of other AIs treat her like one.

            The elevator door slid open, and Stephen stepped out into the penthouse. “Alright. Now, let’s get your dad taken care of.”

            “Right this way.” The lights in the hallway glowed brighter than the rest in a pulsing line, like runway lights. “The master bathroom medicine cabinet contains most over the counter pain remedies and a few prescriptions. I have informed Boss that you’re coming, but he is trying to tell me not to let you in. He may be unhappy to see you.”

When Stephen finally pinpointed the location of a wayward relic that had been causing trouble lately, he expected it to be a rather routine retrieval. Somehow, in seconds, it had gone from typical mission to major problem. He'd opened a portal to the relic and stepped into the cluttered personal lab of Tony Stark himself- problem number one. And, to make matters worse, before either of them had time to react to the other, the relic let out a violent pulse of green energy, knocking them both to the ground.

Except it wasn't the floor of the workshop they landed on- it was a white field of ice and snow. Problem number two. Problem number three- his left hand burned like it was on fire, the cold so bright and intense that it temporarily blinded him to all else. His sling ring was coated in simmering blue frost, and it was seeping outward, covering his hand rapidly. He tore the ring off with some difficulty, the first few layers of skin going with it and leaving him with red, irritated bands in its place that immediately began to crack in the cold. But, the blue frost stopped spreading, so he bit back a sob and cradled the injured hand to his chest, desperate to warm his hand a bit. He couldn't use his hands in this condition to heal himself, warm himself or get them out of what was now very obviously a tailored trap.

"Are you okay?" A voice cut through the flurries of snow raining down and Stephen remembered he wasn't alone. "Also, what just happened?" It seemed that Tony had been wearing the Iron Man suit because he'd summoned it now, so at least he wasn't subject to the biting cold.

"I c-can't cast magic to get us out. My hands are too d-d-damaged," Stephen stammered in return. The Cloak pressed tight around him, offering some relief from the cold but pressing his hands to his chest in the process. Stephen winced, unable to stop himself from hissing in pain. "Ah! The relic was a t-t-trap for me. It went off when I got too close. You got c-caught in the blast zone."

"Okay, FRIDAY says we're in Antarctica. You're going to go into shock from the cold if you haven't already. I can use the nanites that make up my suit to encase both of us, but I won't be able to fly us out of here and it will be... tight quarters. Like, sharing a sleeping bag tight. Can you handle that?"

Stephen nodded, his teeth chattering too hard for him to speak as a deep shiver wracked his body. He was largely helpless to the cold right now, and he could see no other way out. Iron Man reached for him, and no sooner had he braced for contact with the cold metal than it retreated, and Tony Stark pulled him close with his bare hands. Stephen went willingly, curling into Tony's arms as the nanites began to crawl across his skin, forming essentially a metal sac. The relief of the warmth was immediate- Tony was putting off a heat so intense it almost burned, or at least it felt that way. Stephen sank into the heat for a moment, still shivering. The Cloak wrapped around both of them under the thin metal that blanketed them, and Tony ran a soothing hand up and down Stephen's back.

"Th-thank you," Stephen managed to stammer out, clinging to Tony in what would certainly be an embarrassing display under any other circumstances. He shifted, and the raw rings of skin brushed against their metal shield, and he instinctively yanked his hand back with a hiss.

"I've got you. I don't know what happened to your hand but we just need to be careful with it until my backup arrives. Then, I can get you free medical treatment, if you can't just magic it away or something."

If every nerve in his body wasn't going haywire, he might have laughed at being faced with the full force of Iron Man's heroism when there was nothing to punch. Tony Stark famously hated magic, but he had somehow correctly determined that Stephen was no threat and resolved to help him without taking the time to verify Stephen's harmlessness. Had decided to offer Stephen his own body heat in seconds, was now holding him close, gently. Suddenly, it occurred to him that he'd fantasized about similar scenarios as a repressed teenager with a celebrity crush on the scientific prodigy of the century, and he was very glad the only light in their little bubble was coming from the dim blue light on Tony's chest, so he probably couldn't be caught blushing.

"My backup might come, too," he said, rather than acknowledge the thought. Tony looked at him with something like interest.

"Well, while we wait to see whose team gets here first, why don't we get to know each other? We can make a bit of a game out of it, since we're in kind of an... intimate position."

"You want to play a get to know you game?"

"Call it an ice breaker."

Stephen knows that in this timeline he'll never be Tony's partner, not the way he'd been in those rare, lucky futures. Selfishly, he makes the ring he'd used to propose to Tony and gives it to him anyway, partly because of the protective wards it carried and partly because he's a masochist who wanted to suffer every time he sees that ring on the wrong finger on Tony's hand.

And then Tony starts making jokes about engagement- they're not even dating!- and things go from 'painful, but reassuring' to 'downright terrifying'.

"What are you working on? And can you take a break for dinner? Wong texted that you skipped breakfast and lunch." Tony's voice cut through Stephen's concentration, the way it always did. He'd been too focused on the important project he'd been working on to realize that Tony had entered the Sanctum at all, let alone come up behind him in the study he'd set up shop in. He looked up over his shoulder to find the billionaire holding a couple of takeout bags and a drink carrier.

Stephen's heart warmed the way it always did when Tony tried to take care of him. It was something he did with all his friends, but even if it didn't mean what Stephen wanted it to, any sign of affection was welcome from Tony. He looked back down at the ring in his hands, the product of about three months of work- in this timeline, anyway. Really it was the product of several lifetimes worth of revision until no more improvements could be made, but he didn't really remember doing the work. This ring was one of many things that had left... an imprint, of sorts, on his magical signature. He'd created certain magical items and designed certain spells across enough timelines that the understanding of how to do so again was implicit, as if they were each extensions of his very being. He had only made the ring in its final form in a precious few hundred timelines, but it had burned its blueprints into his magic all the same- and knowing what it was for, he understood why.

It was also the ring he'd used to propose to Tony in those cherished timelines, but it was too important for Stephen to forego even if he wasn't with Tony. After all, this was the final timeline- things were permanent again. And the ring's primary purpose was and always had been to keep Tony safe.

"It's a ring," Stephen answered, smiling to himself when Tony scoffed behind him. "And I just finished it, so yes, dinner sounds wonderful."

"I can see it's a ring, Gandalf," Tony shot back, but the words lost some of their bite from the curiosity bleeding into his tone. "Did you make it?" As he spoke, Tony pulled up a chair on the other side of the desk Stephen was at and sat down across from him.

"I did."

"What is it?"

"It's a relic. A powerful magical item. This one is designed to protect the wearer from physical harm and ward against just about every magic or psychic attack in this universe."

Tony let out a low whistle. "You're not doomsday prepping or something, are you? That sounds kind of serious."

Stephen laughed. "No, nothing like that. It's a gift."

"Pretty important gift."

"It's for a pretty important person."

"Oh, yeah? We talking game changing alliance important or professing your undying love important, or...?"

"More like your reward for saving the universe important."

There was a beat of silence as Tony processed that. "Like, the proverbial you?"

Stephen shook his head, unable to keep an amused (and probably a little too fond) smile off his face. "Don't you think you deserve something after everything you've sacrificed for this world? When you wear this ring, you'll be safe. It doesn't make you invulnerable, you can still get minor injuries, but you can't be injured above a certain threshold. No harmful magic effect will be able to touch you, nor any psychic ability. Nobody will be able to mess with your mind, or cause you permanent harm. You don't have to keep risking yourself for this world to be Iron Man, and you don't have to give up Iron Man to be safe. You can finally relax."

Tony stared at him, his expression stormy and difficult to read. For a long moment, there was only silence as Tony looked from him, to the ring, and back to Stephen, his eyes lingering for several seconds each time. Stephen waited patiently, no betrayal of the nerves racing in his chest visible in his expression or posture. He hadn't really planned on doing it like this, but, well, Tony had already seen the ring, and if he was being honest, he didn't want to wait. The longer the silence stretched, though, the more Stephen began to wonder if he'd made a mistake in laying it all out that way.

And then Tony reached out, picked the ring up, and held it in his hand like it was something precious. Stephen's heart soared. "You... for me?"

"You deserve to lay your worries to rest."

For a moment, Stephen thought that Tony might cry, and his worry spiked again. But then, Tony slipped the ring onto the ring finger of his right hand.

"It's perfectly sized," Tony said, his voice quiet.

"It's magic. It will fit perfectly on any finger you wish to wear it on, and can't be removed by anyone other than you. Or me, but that's the nature of the enchantment and-"

"You wouldn't do that. I trust you. I- thank you, Stephen." Finally, Tony smiled, warm and bewildered and a little bit sad.

"You deserve it," Stephen asserted. "The universe isn't capable of thanking you for saving it, not really. So let me do it on behalf of everyone and everything: thank you, Tony Stark, for a lifetime of dedication to the selfless pursuit of protecting us all."

"Okay, you're going to have to stop that or I'm gonna have an emotion or something," Tony joked, but the words somewhat lost their joking tone when his voice wavered as he spoke.

Stephen smiled- he could indulge Tony's desire to avoid vulnerability for now. "Dinner, then?"

"Great idea! Dinner. Right." As Tony turned to collect the food where he'd placed it on the desk behind him, Stephen allowed his gaze to linger. Tony had accepted the ring, and from now on as long as he wore it he would be safe. It wasn't the best possible case scenario, but it was the best he could be afforded in this timeline, and it was more than enough.

Sequel to part one and part two!

            It took Tony two entire hours to calm down enough through what FRIDAY insisted was a panic attack to stop crying, by which point he felt wrung dry and had a terrible headache. He was tempted to lay back down and close his eyes to see if that would help his headache, but he couldn’t just leave things like this with Stephen. He needed to do something, to apologize, explain, anything and everything to take back the awful words he’d said.

            He bit his lip, wincing a bit as he remembered he’d worried it raw, anxiety swirling in his chest and making him hesitate. What could he even say to explain this? What could he do to- to make up for being so cruel, first thing in the morning? He didn’t know how to explain his behavior. Sorry I told you I didn’t want you after finally spending the night together, I had a panic attack? That was no excuse for his behavior. Just because he was emotionally deficient and afraid of commitment to the point that it stole the breath from his lungs and rooted him in place didn’t mean that Stephen needed to forgive his pathetic outburst.

            Nevertheless, he had to try. “FRIDAY, call Stephen.”

            “On it,” FRIDAY responded. There was a brief pause, and then she said, “I got sent to voicemail. It would appear that his phone is off; it’s not connected to any network.”

            Stephen had turned his phone off? Another pulse of anxiety washed over him, this time strong enough to make him nauseous. He had already waited too long, he should’ve called Stephen back or followed him immediately. God damn it, another thing he’d messed up. He rushed to get dressed, ignoring how terrible he probably looked in favor of getting to the Sanctum as fast as possible. He threw on his clothes from yesterday, discarded on the floor as they had been, before heading to the balcony to take off in the Iron Man suit. Driving would take too long- he needed to get to Stephen now.

            It was a short, three-minute flight before he was touching down on the Sanctum’s front steps. The doors usually opened for him before he could even reach them, but today they stood still, as if the building itself was judging his sins. It probably was, Tony realized with a frown. The Sanctum’s energy was heavily tied to Stephen’s as its master, and it probably knew exactly what Tony had done. He hesitated briefly before knocking- perhaps he would get lucky and someone would let him in.

            It was a long moment that he waited in silence, uncertainty and urgency pounding in his chest, wondering if he should knock again or if the doors would remain closed no matter how many times he knocked. But eventually, the doors opened, and Wong appeared, giving Tony an unimpressed look.

            “I need to talk to-” Tony began immediately, but Wong quickly cut him off.

            “He’s not here. He left for a diplomatic mission in the Eighteenth Dimension an hour ago. He won’t be back for at least a few days.”

            “Please, it’s urgent. Is there any way to contact him?”

            Wong scowled at him. “Interdimensional travel is no small thing, Stark. You will have to wait until he returns. Assuming he’ll talk to you.”

            Tony grimaced. “I’ll… come back when he’s back. Will you let me now when he’s back?”

            “I am not his keeper, Stark.”

            “If you don’t, I’ll just come ask every day until he’s back.”

            “Good. Some effort might help whatever apology you’re clearly trying to make.” With that final judgement, the door slammed shut, leaving Tony standing on the street.

            Anxiety swirled in his chest and his head pounded to the quickening beat of his heart. Stephen wouldn’t be back for days? How could he possibly wait that long? He tried to steady his breathing as he summoned his suit and began the flight back home. Days. Two, three? More? A week? Weeks?

It's not bad form at all! However, my brain grabbed the dragon one today and wouldn't let go, so this is a prompt fill for that. Please send in another ask for the other story and I will fill it! Sequel to this.

            Stephen sighed to himself as he studied his reflection in the mirror, shaking hands adjusting his hair just the way that Tony seemed to like it most. Since Tony had realized that Stephen could cast a privacy charm that could allow Tony to go out in public without being recognized, he’d been asking Stephen to take him to do all kinds of things he’d never done before. Every request burned in Stephen’s mind, the desire to give Tony everything he wanted, to give so much that Tony would have no objections if Stephen were to give him a place of honor in his hoard running like fire through his chest. He had yet to turn down a single request, although they had been cut short a couple of times, and it was now practically twice a week that they went out to do such things, on top of time spent at the Sanctum.

            It was driving him insane. So much time spent with Tony only made Stephen want him more, and he’d found the perfect item in his hoard to give- hypothetically give the engineer. He had managed to hold most of his instincts at bay, but he hadn’t been able to stop thinking about it, hadn’t been able to stop himself from hunting down the item in question and making sure it was easily accessible just in case Tony ever felt like asking to metaphorically belong to a dragon. He wasn’t sure if it was a desire-induced delusion, but sometimes it almost seemed like Tony might be open to such a thing.

            If he was, Stephen would wait for him to make some kind of move. He needed to know that Tony wanted him the way that Stephen wanted Tony before he could consider whether Tony would accept being part of his hoard. And until that happened, giving Tony part of his hoard was off the table.

            That didn’t stop him from trying to subtly entice Tony to look, to think about it. He’d seen an appraising look in Tony’s eyes a few times now, on their frequent excursions that were starting to feel more and more like dates. Last week at the Natural History Museum, Tony had broken the touch barrier he normally had to guide Stephen over to exhibits he was excited about with a hand on his shoulder at first, then the small of his back. There had been a moment where a couple of tourists bumped into them and jostled them together, and there had been no mistaking the protective arm Tony had slipped around him that had lingered far beyond the necessary.

            He could only pray that nothing like that happened today, because at this rate he’d be so busy focused on keeping his draconic desire to claim Tony at bay that he wouldn’t be able to maintain his glamour around the engineer anymore. And though Tony knew he was a dragon, knowing that and seeing it were two entirely different things. Tony had always been somewhat skittish around magic, and Stephen wasn’t willing to let that create distance in their relationship. But if he could entice Tony just enough to make him actually do something substantial about it… having Tony in any capacity would help calm his instinctual desires.

            A familiar tug at his perception alerted him to the fact that Tony had arrived, so he pulled on the jacket he’d picked out and warped downstairs to greet him. Tony was standing in the entryway with two coffee cups in his hands and a fond smile that made Stephen’s inner dragon preen.

            “Looking sharp, Merlin,” Tony called by way of greeting, his tone as warm as his smile. “I think you might be a tad overdressed for Coney Island, though.”

            Stephen looked down at himself- he was wearing a stone blue henley that he’d left unbuttoned, a pair of form-fitting but comfortable black jeans, and a brown leather jacket with wide lapels that Tony had expressed an affinity for before. The Cloak had transmuted into a bandana that was tucked carefully into his pocket, the ends of it just peeking out in a flash of color at his hip. Each element of the outfit had been carefully chosen, and he resisted the urge to let his satisfaction show at how well it was paying off.

            “You’re not so bad, yourself,” Stephen shot back, aiming for playful as he met Tony at the bottom of the stairs. It was true- Tony was wearing oil-stained blue jeans and an old Rush shirt  with the telltale discolored ring from his original arc reactor. Tony snorted, no doubt because he thought he was wearing nothing special, but to Stephen it was a visual mark of how comfortable Tony was around him. These little excursions had been all about one thing: giving Tony the ability to exist as he wanted to, without having to worry about the world’s eyes being on him all the time. That he chose to let Stephen in so far rested in his chest like a warm coal, contributing to the fire of his desire.

            “Flattery will get you everywhere,” Tony teased, looking pleased alongside his amusement. “Jasmine tea with honey and just a dash of vanilla?”

            Another burst of warmth settled in his chest. This was the second time, now, that Tony had brought him tea. Sure, he often brought food, but he’d somehow figured out how to get Stephen’s tea order perfectly right on the first try. He shoved down the desire to return the favor with a piece of his hoard, and took the offered cup.

            “Thank you.” Stephen tried to offer Tony a smile that wasn’t quite so exhilarated, but if the expression on Tony’s face was anything to go by, he didn’t quite succeed. “Ready?”

            Tony’s smile was satisfied as he took a small step forward, closing the distance between them by about half. “Hide me away from the world, Stephen,” he said, his voice soft and carrying a note that Stephen would think was awe if he didn’t know better.

            Stephen’s instincts to do just that sang in his chest, and the desire to spirit Tony away to his hoard crashed over him once more with renewed force. He took a tiny step forward, lifting his hands slightly in a gesture that he managed to restrain at the last second. He had no idea whether or not Tony knew what saying something like that did to him, did to the part of himself that he kept tightly leashed lest it become uncontrollable.

Tony was still smiling at him, soft and comfortable and happy, and Stephen swallowed hard, forcing his desire down. Instead of reaching out for Tony as he longed to do, he raised his hands and performed the privacy glamor. He felt it settle over the both of them, and the ache in his chest eased some as Tony was once again enveloped in his magic.

            Tony let out a content little sigh, and Stephen’s inner dragon snapped to attention. Did Tony enjoy the feeling of Stephen’s magic, or did he just enjoy the anonymity the glamour provided? Suddenly, the idea that Tony might not mind being the jewel of his hoard seemed a lot less far away. If Tony felt comfortable and at ease wrapped up in Stephen’s magic, then sitting with the rest of Stephen’s hoard would amplify those feelings.

            Vishanti. They hadn’t even left the Sanctum and his head was already spinning. Tony was going to be the death of him.

            “Shall we?” he asked, biting back the desire to ask Tony to abandon their plans and come with him, instead.

            Tony nodded, closing the last of the distance between them by linking his free arm around Stephen’s. “Let’s.”

Tony hummed to himself as he deliberated over which of his new shirts to wear. On the one hand, the dress shirt clung to his arms in a way he was sure his target would appreciate, but the Columbia tee was more form-fitting around the shoulders, and Stephen seemed to particularly enjoy seeing him in blue. Seeing him repping Columbia in a slightly too-small shirt was bound to catch and hold Stephen's attention.

He'd noticed the sorcerer had a habit of staring at him a few months back, and had slowly adjusted his wardrobe accordingly to keep it that way. He wasn't sure if something had changed for Stephen somewhere along the way or if he'd been more subtle about it in the beginning, but now that he'd actually started trying to look good, it was obvious every time Stephen looked at him. It was well-hidden, but Tony had a lifetime of practice in knowing when someone wanted him. And Stephen wanted.

He'd played games like this before- had been called a showoff by Rhodey too many times to count in college- but this was no ordinary game. Usually it only took one or two deliberate outfits to make his target, whoever that may be, crack. But he'd been tempting Stephen for weeks, preening every time the sorcerer got distracted or stumbled over his words because he was unprepared for Tony to show up looking so good. He was having so much fun tweaking his style to fit Stephen's tastes that he didn't even mind that Stephen didn't seem to plan to do anything about it.

He wondered idly as he slipped into the Columbia tee whether Stephen knew what he was doing. He'd been careful to keep the transition slow, and he tried not to catch Stephen staring too often, opting instead to watch replays of Stephen's reactions in the Tower or at the compound and contenting himself with watching Stephen stammer and look away to hide his expressions. It was cute, and beyond satisfying. The other day when he'd shown up in the lab to surprise Stephen and Bruce, the sorcerer had nearly walked into a table upon seeing his admittedly gratuitously unbuttoned shirt. Tony had ridden that high for three days after, and now he was fixing for another hit.

He'd already picked out the rest of his outfit- a pair of dark wash jeans that were tight in all the right places, some boots that gave him a couple extra inches of height, and a cropped leather jacket that stopped right above his hips, calling attention to the thin strip of skin that showed when his shirt rode up. He already knew Stephen liked the jacket, but he was hoping to utilize the shirt's tendency to ride up to further fluster the sorcerer. He'd managed to convince Stephen to join him for a walk through this year's Stark Expo- although to call it convincing might be giving himself too much credit. He'd merely had to float the idea that he wished he could go see it without getting mobbed, and Stephen had offered him a privacy glamour that would obscure his identity as long as he didn't stray too far from Stephen's side. Little did Stephen know that that was exactly where he wanted to be.

Since the privacy glamour meant he wouldn't need to do the usual cap-and-glasses routine, he took a few minutes to style his hair, and put on some eyeliner for good measure. Then, deeming himself ready, he started making his way to the Avengers floor's kitchen, where Stephen had agreed to meet him so he could set up the glamour before they left for the Expo.

To his luck, Stephen was already waiting for him in the kitchen, and to his delight, Stephen's elbow slipped off the edge of the table when he caught sight of Tony, nearly sending him toppling.

What about this as a prompt?

Stephen and FRIDAY find an ally in each other and develop something like a friendship. Tony finds out and has _opinions_ and _feelings_ about it.

I am enjoying writing these ficlets a lot! Thanks for your prompt, I actually already have a full length fic in the works for something very similar to this but ultimately decided to do a new one for this prompt. This fic is brought to you by the time I fainted when I was 16!

"Boss?" FRIDAY's voice cut through the lab suddenly, interrupting Tony's music and making him jump. It was already unusual for her to interrupt his work like this, but she sounded concerned, which was a little alarming. "Your presence is required in Conference Room 126A." A conference room on the ninth floor? "Can I get some more details on that?" Tony asked, confused. If it were a work emergency, FRIDAY wouldn't sound so worried. A brief hesitation- also odd- before FRIDAY answered. "Doctor Strange has fainted." "In the conference room?" None of this was making him any less confused, but he started towards the elevator anyway. If Stephen was here and had fainted- and why would FRIDAY lie?- he needed to get there immediately.

"Yes. He stood from a chair and collapsed to the floor. He is not responding to my attempts to rouse him."

"What was he doing in the conference room?" Tony asked as he hit the elevator, and it started going down before the door was fully closed.

"He's awake," FRIDAY said in lieu of a response. "Or at least, he's moving."

The elevator came to a slightly more forceful stop than usual and Tony nearly stumbled out of it as he ran down the hallway towards the conference room. Thankfully, it wasn't far, and he burst into the room to find Stephen propped up on one elbow on the floor, swaying like even that was too much for him and bleeding from his lip.

"Stephen!" he cried, rushing to Stephen's side. "What happened? Are you okay?"

"Mmm'fine," Stephen mumbled, words running together. "Just... dizzy."

"Here." Carefully, Tony maneuvered Stephen into a sitting position, and pulled Stephen's back against his chest, anchoring him. "I've got you."

"It's just orth-... Orthostatic hypotension... It'll pass." As he spoke, Steven's head rolled towards Tony, but his eyes were screwed shut.

"I've got you," Tony repeated, trying to use the opportunity to determine where the source of the blood was. There was no visible cut, but Stephen's teeth were stained red. He waited, quiet despite the storm of worry brewing in his chest, while Stephen slowly returned to himself. After a moment or two, Stephen opened his eyes and lifted his head.

"I think I'm okay, now," he said, his voice low and drained. As he spoke, he winced. "Ow."

"You're bleeding from your mouth, Doc, think you cut yourself. Do you think you're ready to walk to a sink so I can take a look?"

"Urgh... Probably not. I'm not dizzy anymore, but... I don't feel like I can support my own body. And I think the cut is on my lip. Hurts to talk."

"Then don't talk. Blink once for yes and twice for no."

Stephen huffed, and made a complicated hand gesture. His hands glowed, and then his mouth, and briefly Tony saw the split seam on the inside of Stephen's bottom lip where it had been buried by blood as it healed before his very eyes. Though the magic healed the wound, it did nothing for the blood, and Tony was struck by the irrational desire to kiss Stephen and smear the red liquid on his lips. He pushed the thought away as Stephen, oblivious to his inner thoughts, shot him an unimpressed look.

"I'm fine. Unfortunately, there's no spell to even out my blood pressure, so I think I'm going to need to sit here for a few minutes."

"What happened?"

"I stood up too fast."

"Are you anemic?"

"More like hypovolemic, but it's really not that bad. I'm just dehydrated, and I have low blood volume at the moment."

"Why do you have low blood volume?" Tony's anxiety was not being soothed by Stephen's explanations, nor his flippant attitude regarding his health. Was this how Pepper felt, when he said concerning things like that? He should send her some flowers or something.

"I suffered from a small amount of blood loss last night. I'm fine, though."

"Stephen, quit bullshitting me and tell me the whole story or I'm going to drop you."

"No, you're not," Stephen retorted immediately, but he complied nonetheless. "Last night I got into a fight with a couple of vampires, and they managed to stab me with a broken wall sconce. I lost some blood, but Wong was able to heal me in time and I really am fine. I just didn't eat breakfast because I overslept so I got here late, and stood up too fast."

"Right, there's another thing. What were you doing here?"

"I came to visit FRIDAY."

What? "What?"

"I was visiting FRIDAY? It's not unusual."

"I mean, it is, but that's fine. FRI, is this why you didn't want to tell me what was going on?"

Another uncharacteristic hesitation from FRIDAY- definitely nervous, then. "Yes, Boss. I didn't think it was relevant at first, and then it seemed like something you should know but didn't, and I wasn't sure how you'd respond."

"You're allowed to have friends, FRI. Although I'm surprised that the wizard is one. How did that happen?"

"It's a long story," Stephen interrupted.

"Then you can tell it to me over lunch. I'm not letting you leave this building until you drink at least 40 ounces of something and eat a real meal."

Stephen huffed again, but this time it was a clear sound of amusement. "Tony Stark, billionaire, playboy, philanthropist, professional worrier."

"Says the guy who just busted his lip open from standing up too fast. Would you rather I just left you here on the floor?"

"Point taken. I think I can stand now."

"Great! Let's get you up to the penthouse, I will cook us something to eat and you two can tell me the story. FRIDAY has holographic capabilities in the penthouse, you'll be able to see her."

"I didn't know you had an avatar," Stephen addressed the ceiling.

"Only in the penthouse and the labs, currently," FRIDAY responded, and there was an almost bashful note to her voice.

"I can add that functionality for you for other places, y'know," Tony interjected. "If you want to hang out with your friends."

"Could you make something portable?" Stephen asked. "I'd love to show FRIDAY the Sanctum."

Well, this day just continued to be full of surprises. "I'm Tony Stark. I can make anything," he said, falling back on bravado to hide how baffled he truly felt. Most people didn't even really recognize FRIDAY as a person, and here was Stephen Strange of all people having a full-blown friendship with her completely distinct of his relationship with Tony?

Briefly, he suffered another mental disconnect wherein his mind projected images of kissing Stephen, and he once again shoved the thoughts away. It worked, but somewhere in the space just before conscious thought he knew that the sentiment lingered much closer to the surface than it had before today.