Avengers Preferences and Imagines

This Gift of Mine (Stephen Strange)

A/N: I would like to "informally" introduce Stephen Strange to this book! Usually, I wouldn't write an imagine for a character I haven't done the makeup preferences for, but this idea kept pestering me and I just HAD to get it out there! So here you go, I hope you all enjoy this. And I hope this introduction does the character justice :)

An unpleasant and abrupt banging on my door woke me this morning instead of my regular alarm. "You have fifteen minutes" the voice on the other side of my door instructed, his voice sharp and impatient as usual. He had never been one for pleasantries. "Pretentious asshole" I grumbled under my breath knowing that he could hear me on the other side of the door. I waited until I heard his footsteps retreating down the hallway before throwing my duvet off of me with a groan and jumping out of bed. With a huff, I put my hair up and changed quickly into clothes that would be both comfortable and functional. With him, I never knew what kind of training I would be put through, so I dressed for any possible situation.

A quick glance at the clock showed that it was 5:56 AM, meaning I didn't have time for breakfast yet again. I thought about how easy it would be to just summon a granola bar to me and avoid having to stop at the kitchen which would make me late. But I dismissed the thought as quickly as it had entered my mind. The magic that I possessed was one I was hardly comfortable having let alone using which is exactly why I was here of all places, taking lessons from the insufferable Dr. Stephen Strange.

My magic had just exploded out of me one day, which had caught the attention of some very powerful people. People who recognized how useful my power could be to the world if I learned how to control it; how to bend it to my will. Late one night my best friend (b/f/n) and I had been walking home from a concert we had gone to. After passing by an alley, a man had jumped out and threatened us at knifepoint; wanting our purses. Desperate to save us, my previously dormant magic that I hadn't known existed, exploded out of me with a vengeance, killing our attacker. But it had also killed my best friend... I hadn't known how to control it, how to target it. And in my attempt at protecting us, I had killed the person I was trying to protect...

Wincing, I pushed the painful memories deep, deep inside of me, trying to put as much distance between them and myself so that I could calm my nerves. I didn't have to look down at my hands to know that they were shaking. I clenched them into fists as I made my way towards the training room in an attempt to hide it. When I pulled the door open the room was dark. Cautiously, I stepped inside. Unsure of if I was alone or not, I took a few quiet steps and paused to listen. I heard nothing besides the sound of my own breathing and the nearly undetectable sound of the air conditioner running.

But the longer I stood there motionless, the more the hair on the back of my neck rose. "You aren't alone here" my magic seemed to whisper to me as it probed the room around me, searching for the person it somehow knew was there. I fought against my instinct and fear telling me to suppress my power. Instead, I let my eyes flutter closed, and allowed my magic to become an extension of myself as it probed and searched around the darkened room. I remained still as my phantom hands roamed the room, turning up nothing, nothing, nothing... until finally, they brushed up against something, sending the feeling reverberating through me.

All of a sudden the room sprang to life as the lights slowly came on. One after one, section after section the room lit up until the room was fully illuminated, revealing Stephen leaning casually against the wall at the other end of the room. He pushed off the wall, his expression and his demeanor bored and unbothered as he began to clap slowly. "Congratulations. You found me." He said, his voice monotone. I said nothing as I stared him down. The two of us didn't exactly get along. "You need to stop trying to repress it." He instructed. I ignored him. "You won't ever learn to control it if you keep trying to suppress it" he snapped, already irritated with me.