#dr strange mcu

[theravequeen]

I fear that no one will ever understand Stephen Strange like I do

The MCU has muddled his character so much that he's hardly recognizable. They keep giving him love interests instead of focusing on his grief

The fandom either hates him because they're so far up Wanda's ass, or they sexualize him for some abhorrent reason

I just. I have this deep understanding of him and I can never put it into words so I fear it'll never be out in the world but like. He's super important to me and he constantly gets overshadowed by the fandom and by Marvel themselves

Forgive my rambling I kin him so hard and I wish people could see him the way I do,,,

[vinamari]

How it feels going to bed after reading some words

It was angst

[xia0ming56]

Doom match in szn 2 b like:

[drakudoll]

strange or loki being a secret munch and you don't find out until later in the relationship>>

I think both are munches in very different ways. let me elaborate ;)

Loki: He eats pussy like a punishment 80% of the time and you don't really see that side until you get REALLY into the sex life part of your relationship. Overstimulates and edges you for the purpose of making you so fucked out and needy because you decided to do or say something he wasnt a fan of. Nips your thighs when you try to grab at him and pull him off- usually this results in him restraining your arms. the 20% of that? Its because you looked so good he had to have you right then and there how he wanted because he is just so infatuated with you that a simple glance of you will have him tugging your bottoms off.

Strange: Eats pussy like he needs it to live bcus to be honest he does. And once you start living together and having more alone and intimate time together- Morning? hes slipping under the blankets. Lunch on a day off? go ahead and keep munching on your sandwich while he eats you out on the counter. Evening? keep reading your book on the couch he just needs to satisfy his urge. His fingers dont work for a lot but they work wonders in your core while he's hyper focused on your clit with his mouth. He lives between your thighs- he dies between your thighs. Strange also could cum in his boxers from simply eating you out and listening to your sounds and the way you grip his hair, He's a very heavy sensory driven man and you fill his needs like a puzzle piece.

[sunarryn]

DP X Marvel #16

It started, as these things often did, with Clockwork showing up at 3:07 AM in Danny’s bedroom and dragging him out of bed by the ankle like a disappointed father dealing with a child who had failed Algebra. Again.

“Wha—Clockwork?!” Danny shouted, flailing in his space-themed pajama pants as he was unceremoniously yanked into a swirling portal of green and purple time goop. “I have school in four hours!”

“You won’t need it where you’re going,” Clockwork said with the kind of deadpan that made you suspect he hadn’t laughed in several centuries.

“That sounds like a threat.”

“It is.”

Next thing Danny knew, he was falling face-first onto a Persian rug that smelled faintly of incense, ancient secrets, and emotional trauma. He groaned and looked up just as a swirling portal closed behind him, revealing a tall, caped man sipping tea with the patience of a man who had seen God, mocked Him, and been promptly smacked in the face for it.

“Stephen Strange,” Clockwork said, materializing again because apparently he didn’t believe in exits, “meet Daniel Fenton. You’re going to teach him how to not accidentally vaporize the concept of space.”

“I what?” Danny blinked.

“Wait—this is the child you were talking about?” Strange said with a distinct expression of “I expected someone taller and more eldritch.”

Danny raised a hand. “Hi. Still in my pajamas. Please explain.”

Clockwork gave him a look. “You’ve been randomly tearing holes in the multiverse with your emotions. If you continue, you’ll accidentally delete the timeline where pizza was invented.”

Danny went pale. “That’s my favorite timeline!”

“That’s why you’re here.”

And that’s how Danny ended up training at the Sanctum Sanctorum instead of going to college like a normal eighteen-year-old. Not that Danny was ever normal. Or functional. Or even consistently corporeal at this point.

“Why is there a ghost teenager eating cold Pop-Tarts in my artifact room?” Wong asked the next morning, frozen mid-step with the sling ring still on his fingers.

“I live here now,” Danny said through a mouthful of Strawberry Frosted. “Clock Daddy said so.”

Wong stared at Strange. “We don’t even let you eat in here.”

“He’s technically a spectral demi-being empowered by quantum echoes,” Strange muttered. “I’m not sure he can be stopped.”

Danny quickly became the Sanctum’s chaos gremlin. The Cloak of Levitation hated him, loved him, used him as a chew toy, and then dragged him into a corner and cuddled him while he tried to watch anime at 2AM. Danny responded by naming it “Blanky.” The Cloak permitted this. Wong did not.

There was one particular week when Danny got stuck halfway between dimensions because he got emotional watching a Pixar movie. “I JUST—THEY FORGOT ABOUT BING BONG, STRANGE, THEY FORGOT—”

“Kid, I swear to the Vishanti, if you collapse another nexus realm because of children’s media—”

“HE SACRIFICED HIMSELF FOR JOY, OKAY?”

Training with Strange was like being punched in the brain repeatedly with Shakespearean insults and quantum theory. Danny tried. He did. But he was more of a vibes-based learner, while Strange was a “recite this 900-word incantation backwards while dodging metaphysical arrows” type of teacher.

“I can just blast it, though?” Danny argued, half-asleep, floating upside-down above the kitchen one night.

“No. No blasting. No phasing. No yelling ghostly wail and reducing my library to ash.”

“But I’m good at those!”

“You also set the Time Fractal on fire.”

“It had a face. It looked at me first.”

Clockwork would appear now and then, mostly to drop Danny cryptic warnings like “Avoid the one with the metal arm,” or “Never trust a raccoon with a gun,” or “Don’t play Uno with Loki. He cheats.”

“I don’t even know a Loki,” Danny protested.

“You will.”

Danny’s powers kept getting weirder. One time he coughed and spat up ectoplasm that turned into a sentient clone of himself, but with an Australian accent and a nicotine addiction. They had to banish him to the Mirror Dimension after he started flirting with Strange.

“Who made you like this?” Strange hissed, trying to undo the spell with rapidly twitching fingers.

“I think I made myself like this,” Danny whispered.

Somehow, the multiverse noticed. A portal opened on a Tuesday—because of course it did—and dropped in Peter Parker mid-panic with a half-dead demon strapped to his back and a terrified expression.

“HELP! I DON’T KNOW WHAT I’M DOING!”

Danny stared, eating a microwaved burrito. “Are you a spider?”

“Are you a ghost?!”

“Do you want a burrito?”

“Yes?!”

And that’s how Danny accidentally made a new best friend. Peter and Danny had exactly the same amount of brain cell(s), which meant Strange had to install magical barriers to keep them from combining into a singularity of disaster.

“Stop bringing the Spider-Child into my Sanctum!”

“He brought himself! Through a hole! In the air! Like me!”

“Oh god, there are two of them now,” Wong muttered, lighting incense aggressively.

The Sanctum slowly became a hub for the weird and unstable. Kamala Khan stopped by and declared Danny her new weird older cousin. America Chavez tried to punch him once and fell into his thermos. Loki found him and said, “Ah. You’re one of those,” and walked away very quickly.

One particularly cursed day, Tony Stark walked in, saw Danny floating above a bowl of ramen while casually moving furniture with his mind, and said, “Nope,” before immediately walking out.

Danny’s magic was…unconventional. When Strange taught him how to summon a shield, Danny ended up with a glowing neon green circle that said “NOPE” in ghostly cursive. When told to summon a blade, Danny pulled out a glowing halberd shaped like a Fenton Thermos with an axe edge.

“I call her ‘Big Suck.’”

“I hate you,” Strange said.

“I love me.”

Then came the Incident. Danny got bored, which, to be clear, is always the beginning of the apocalypse. He found a cursed artifact that looked like a snow globe with a tiny screaming soul inside and thought, this seems fun.

It was not fun.

He broke it open trying to use it as a nightlight and released an ancient chaos entity named The Unfathomable Carl. Carl had a god complex, seventeen mouths, and a Twitter account within four minutes of escaping.

“HOW DID HE EVEN GET A PHONE?!” Strange screamed while fending off a barrage of cursed pigeons.

“HE FOLLOWED ME ON INSTAGRAM!” Danny shouted from behind a sofa.

It took three Avengers, a packet of Mentos, and Danny screaming “YOU’RE NOT EVEN THAT SCARY, CARL!” to trap him back in the snow globe. Clockwork appeared mid-chaos, sipping ecto-tea.

“This was necessary for your growth,” he said calmly.

Danny hurled a shoe at him.

Eventually, Strange came to a horrifying realization: Danny wasn’t learning magic in the traditional sense. He was absorbing it. He was like a sponge that had been dunked in eldritch Kool-Aid and now radiated unpredictable power every time he sneezed.

“Do not, under any circumstance, let him near the Time Stone,” Strange told Wong.

“He already touched it.”

“WHAT?!”

“He said it ‘smelled like cosmic fruit roll-up’ and tried to lick it.”

“I HATE THIS CHILD.”

Danny was currently learning how to open a rift without screaming “YOLO” at the top of his lungs. Progress was…questionable.

“Did you just use Ebonic incantation slang to fold space?”

Danny grinned. “Magic, but make it ✨feral✨.”

“You’re going to give me an aneurysm.”

“I already gave Wong one.”

“You what—?”

At some point, Nick Fury showed up, stared directly into Danny’s glowing green eyes, and immediately called for backup.

“He’s a threat to national security.”

“I’m seventeen!”

“You’ve destroyed seven timelines.”

“Okay but they were minor timelines! Who needs a universe made of talking cats, anyway?”

“…I did.”

Even the Watcher started side-eyeing Danny like a nervous babysitter. Carol Danvers tried to spar with him once and ended up in a ghost trap he made out of duct tape and ambition. “I respect you,” she told him from inside the glowing cube. “But I hate you.”

“Get in line.”

By the time Danny hit six months of training, he’d accidentally absorbed a minor chaos god, reinvented ice magic as a form of dance-fighting, made friends with Mephisto (“He’s not that bad once you get past the brimstone”), and turned his hair permanently silver-blue from temporal exposure.

Strange sat in his chair, robes scorched, tea long gone cold.

“Wong,” he said softly. “I think the child is the apocalypse.”

Wong nodded solemnly. “And yet…I fear I love him.”

Danny phased through the wall with sunglasses and a churro. “Hey! Want to help me prank Odin?”

Strange sighed like a man whose karma had caught up with him.

“I’ll get the goat.”

And so it continued. Danny Phantom: Ghost Kid, Sorcerer-In-Training, Time-Space Menace, and unofficial emotional support chaos goblin of the multiverse. He may not have understood quantum geometry, astral projection, or taxes—but damn it, he had style.

And, apparently, a date with the Living Tribunal next Tuesday.

“I hear he’s into jazz,” Danny said. “Think I should bring cookies?”

“You’re going to destroy everything.”

“Yeah, but like—charmingly?”

[hurtspideyparker]

Peter: I collect parental figures like they're pokemon cards

Stephen: How's that working out for you

Peter: ...I also collect parental issues

Stephen *facepalms*: You're an embarrassment

Peter: Hey! Don't make me look up to you and value your care

Stephen: ...

Stephen: Did you just threaten me with your love?

Peter: Yep. It's as deadly as a serial killer

Stephen:

Peter: It's actually caused a lot of attachment issues for me

[mimicben]

I think, since he is a sorcerer, he should be required to have some long luscious locks atleast once.

I think he’d rock it

(If you’re one of the two confused people seeings this again,,, yeah I messed up the first post XD)

[unrivalled-asks]

We asked Dr. Strange about his views on the team:

[unearthlyeclipse]

Hii! If you have the time could you make dr strange p links? Please and thank youuu

STEPHEN "VINCENT" STRANGE :: DR. STRANGE P! LINKS // NSFW/SMUT

A/N: So far, the requests I've been receiving are some that I've been working on, THIS IS SO FUNNN!!!! Strange is my beloved so this one made me pretty giddy as I worked on it!!! Hope you enjoy it, my first post after I graduated!!!

Warnings: 18+ MINORS DNI, smut, fingering, squirting, cunnilingus, face riding, edging, slight size difference, p in v sex, creampie, hand jobs, blow jobs, 69ing/position, thigh jobs, teasing, dirty talk.

Stephen was longing for you because he's been so busy.

Stephen working his magic fingers on you.

Being tied and bound while Stephen pummels your cunt with his digits.

Getting thanked by Stephen for being such an amazing assistant.

Stephen would gladly die between your thighs.

Stephen trying to teach you how to hold your orgasm, but his thick fingers were already making it hard enough.

Stephen had just come home from a mission and was quick to press you into the mattress. Perhaps he was hexed...

After having such a rough day, Stephen had offered to fuck the problems out of you.

Stephen unloaded within you and watched you play with yourself with hunger.

Being held down by Stephen, his tongue wet with your juices while groping you desperately, he wanted you terribly.

Stephen didn't disappoint when he went down on you after you were waiting for his arrival in his luscious bed.

Giving Stephen a break from his studies.

You were feeling so overwhemled, considering Stephen's cock was in your mouth while his tongue was delved in your heat.

You had on your best lingerie to surprise Stephen for your anniversary; you can tell he adored it.

Stephen claimed he wanted you to relax after a long day, but he truly making you melt and crumble beneath his touch.

A stingy, greedy Stephen trying to touch you however he can.

[katherine-fisk]

This one's mine 😊

[cryptcoop]

Some mcu boys

[peterpcrker]

SPIDER-MAN: NO WAY HOME 2021 | dir. Jon Watts

[xia0ming56]

"I'm opening a portal"

"YOUR POWAS R MINE"

"BY THE EYE OF AGAMOTTO"

"PYOOOOOOOR CHAOOOOOS"

Enemy team:😱😱😱😱💀💀💀💀

[enthyrea]

my truth is turning dr. strange into a nepali uncle

[sunarryn]

DP X Marvel #9

It was supposed to be a normal Tuesday. Well, as normal as it got when you were the ghost king of a supernatural hell dimension that casually brushed shoulders with every known reality in the multiverse. Danny Fenton, age 19, high school graduate, part-time fast food cashier, full-time eldritch entity, had long since learned that “normal” was a concept best left to sitcoms and people who didn’t accidentally blow up space-time during puberty.

And yet, even with the sheer absurdity of his afterlife-afterlife job description, Danny had not signed up for this.

Somehow—somehow—when he officially accepted the Crown of Fire and Frost and Bones and Whatever, the Infinite Realms had offered him a dowry. Not money. Not knowledge. Not a magical vacuum to clean the endless ghost slime dripping from the ceiling. No. It gave him the Infinity Stones.

Not knockoff ones. Not replicas. Not the “Earth-199999” post-snap pebbles Thanos crushed into ghost glitter. The original Infinity Stones. And now he wore them.

Not in a gauntlet. Because, quote, “That’s been done, and frankly, gauche,” according to the Reality Stone, which had rewritten itself into a choker necklace that constantly tried to re-style his outfit into something out of a Victoria’s Secret Angel runway. Today, it had settled on a see-through green silk robe with ghost fire embroidery, and Danny had to physically fight it to let him wear jeans. He won. Barely.

The Power Stone, a chunky magenta ring on his left thumb, liked to hum. Not dramatically or ominously, no. It hummed “Barbie Girl” during tense conversations. It buzzed like a vibrator when Danny was trying to intimidate enemy ghosts. It yodeled during peace treaties. Vlad Masters once tried to monologue at him and the stone responded with a chorus of flatulent noises at full volume. Danny hadn’t stopped laughing for ten minutes. Vlad has refused to visit the castle since.

The Time Stone dangled from a chain bracelet on his right wrist. Sometimes it glowed. Sometimes it whispered. Sometimes it sounded exactly like Clockwork and said stuff like, “Oh, I wouldn’t eat that sandwich, Daniel. You’ll get food poisoning in three hours and twenty-two minutes. It won’t kill you, but the diarrhea will haunt you.” It also had a deeply annoying habit of flashing forward into the future and spoiling every plot twist in the books he was reading. Danny tried to switch to manga, but the damn thing kept spoiling those too.

The Space Stone was an earring. A single, glowing, cerulean stud in his left lobe. It gave him migraines. Not just regular migraines. Cosmic, black-hole-level migraines that bent reality around him. Once, while sneezing mid-headache, he created a baby star in his bedroom. Another time, it opened a portal in the ceiling of his shower mid-rinse and sucked him naked into a Skrull pirate ship orbiting Saturn. He beat them with a loofah and threatened to scrub their insides out unless they sent him back. They now call him “Emperor Cleans-the-Flesh.”

Then there was the Soul Stone. It had attitude. It was a sulky little thing, disguised as a glowing orange knuckle ring he wore on his middle finger, which felt very appropriate. It didn’t talk much, but when it did, it sounded like a sad Tumblr user from 2013. Constantly making vague threats like, “What if I just… killed everyone you loved… just to feel something.” Danny once told it to go touch grass and it responded by manifesting a field of sentient grass that sang MCR lyrics at full blast. Sam loved it. Tucker was traumatized. Jazz refuses to discuss it.

And the Mind Stone.

God.

The Mind Stone.

A dainty gold earring that hung from his right ear and gave the impression of class. It had developed a voice that was part Morgan Freeman, part drunk Hannibal Lecter, and it spoke in Jazz’s cadence. So, essentially: it psychoanalyzed Danny nonstop with the world-weary patience of an overachieving older sibling with access to the DSM-5 and a deep, personal vendetta.

“Ah, yes. Classic deflection, Daniel. You’re not mad at the Time Stone for spoiling your anime. You’re mad at yourself for never learning to regulate your own expectations. Also, you are projecting unresolved paternal trauma onto that sandwich. Seek therapy.”

“I can’t seek therapy, I’m the Ghost King!”

“That’s exactly what someone with a savior complex and intimacy issues would say.”

Every time he thought it was quiet, it whispered new insults into his subconscious. Once, in the middle of a UN meeting about ghost-human diplomacy, it started narrating his intrusive thoughts. Danny had to teleport out before he screamed about his fear of turning into his dad mid-poop.

Now, normally? He could live with it. Ish. He’d learned to tune them out, like roommates you couldn’t evict because they were the literal embodiment of creation. But then SHIELD, or what was left of it, showed up.

Apparently, the multiverse was cracking. Again. Something-something-Kang, something-something-fracture points. Wong came in first, looked at Danny floating sideways in a gravity-less realm throne room while eating hot Cheetos, and just sighed like a man who knew he was underpaid.

“You’re the new anchor of the multiverse.”

Danny blinked. “I’m the what?”

“The stones chose you. Probably because you’re already tethered to the Infinite Realms. You’re their new keeper. Like… janitor of reality.”

“I didn’t ask to be the multiverse’s janitor.”

“Too bad. Put on pants. You’re meeting the Avengers.”

Spoiler: he did not put on pants. Reality Stone put him in tight leather shorts. Tony Stark showed up mid-briefing, took one look at Danny, and said, “Are we summoning ghosts or attending Coachella?”

“I am literally containing the building blocks of existence inside my earlobes, old man.”

Tony raised a brow. “Sassy.”

Steve Rogers had a panic attack. Bruce Banner tried to talk quantum containment strategy, but the Mind Stone insulted his PhD and called him “Emotionally repressed Dr. Jekyll.” Wanda Maximoff muttered something in Sokovian about chaos recognizing chaos. Peter Parker asked for a selfie. Thor offered to arm wrestle. The Space Stone teleported his arm off mid-match. Thor thought it was hilarious.

Then came Loki.

“Oh,” the trickster said, slinking into the realm uninvited. “You’re the one they gave the toys to.”

Danny narrowed his eyes. “Do not call them toys.”

The Soul Stone hissed. The Mind Stone said, “He has severe middle child energy. Classic narcissist. Avoid eye contact.”

Loki smiled wider. “I like you.”

“I hate you already.”

And then Deadpool showed up.

No one invited him. No one wanted him. He just… wandered in through a swirling green portal, wearing bunny slippers, sipping a Ghost Zone smoothie, and immediately licked the Time Stone.

“MMM. Tastes like trauma and Chrono-Cinnamon. Delicious.”

Danny screamed. Deadpool winked.

The next few weeks were a blur of chaos. Danny accidentally rebooted a dead star, causing an entire Kree fleet to bow to him as their sun god. The Reality Stone made his socks sentient. The Mind Stone helped him file ghostly taxes, then charged him emotional interest. Doctor Strange tried to exorcise the stones. Danny coughed up an entire timeline onto the Sanctum’s carpet. Wong still hasn’t forgiven him.

At one point, the Power Stone got bored and vaporized a celestial. Danny was grounded by the Living Tribunal for three days and had to sit in a corner of conceptual space thinking about what he did.

“Why me?” Danny whined to no one in particular.

“Because,” the Mind Stone whispered gently. “You are chronically self-sacrificing, catastrophically powerful, and an absolute sucker for lost causes. Also, you taste like ectoplasm and cinnamon toast. Reality finds that comforting.”

Danny covered his face with his hands. “I’m going to scream.”

“Do it,” the Soul Stone said. “Scream into the void. Feed me.”

“I hate you.”

“We love you, Daniel,” Time Stone whispered ominously.

“No you don’t!”

But they kind of did. In their own horrible, unholy, unhinged way.

And Danny? Danny was starting to get used to it.

He wore godhood like a teenager wears a secondhand hoodie—awkwardly, chaotically, and with a deep sense of “please don’t ask me to take responsibility for this.” But deep down, across realms and dimensions and timelines, Danny Phantom was no longer just a boy with ghost powers. He was the Keeper of Infinity, the King of the In-Between, and possibly the most dangerously unqualified celestial babysitter the multiverse had ever known.

God help them all.

[suniverse-art]

some marvel dudes cuz im back in my MCU era