wha bam!

No Luxury For The Broken

Tony Stark x Daughter!Reader

Originally posted by elisabetholsen

Originally posted by capntony

Originally posted by fymarveluniverse

Originally posted by starlvrdss

Originally posted by insolublefelines

Originally posted by 0chlophobia

Originally posted by haidaspicciare

Theme Songs: Safe and Sound by Taylor Swift feat. Civil Wars   The Troubles by U2    Hurt by Johnny Cash

Summary: No one could’ve been able to simply…rape you-you were as well trained as Natasha, one of the world’s deadliest assassins…But this man? He was someone else. And you didn’t escape it. 
Now, you have to live with the trauma. Everyone felt pain for you-but your dad, Tony? ….He felt it so. much. worse.

Warnings: r*pe, swearing, r*pe trauma, trauma, protective tony and his grief is a hazard, as always. nakedness, r*pe injuries, f*cking said once. mention of sex. 

Word Count: 2,245 words

Tags: @howwasthefun-vee


The bleeding of tears in your eyes. 


The fatigue and the heat washed over you.


The feeling of needing to crumble.

But where could you collapse?

The feeling of New York air right outside a luxury building was no help. The ruined makeup that included the waterproof mascara was a downer. The ripping off your wedges because you could not walk in them anymore. 

Slowly your body had fallen and came to the clean, concrete ground. You huddled yourself close together in the leather jacket over your burgundy shift dress. 

It was a private party. It was the weirdest thing, because you were the only one out of your family invited. Well, it was a youth business thing by Hylech. You were involved in Stark Industries, a little. So it made sense. 

Your hand had just barely gotten over shaking enough to pull out your phone and to call your dad. You pressed “Daddy” on your contacts and raised the phone to your dominant ear. 


“D-Dad?” You pushed out of your mouth. 

“Sweetheart, you okay? Are you crying?” He asks alarmed.

“Can you pick me up, please?” Your voice trembled. Cars simply went past the building while you sat with the dim light coming from the right. 


“You’ll wanna bring Bruce with you…”

“I’ll be right there, I promise, I’ll be right there-”

“Hurry…” Your voice is only able to get out at under a whisper. Your eyes fall to a close. 

You knew your dad would hurry. When he was worried about you, uh, he was incredibly worried about you. And he heard your voice, too, so he may’ve been sprinting down the stairs and not saying a word to the team. 

So the minutes went by and by. You’d found will to put your wedges back on, as much as you didn’t think you’d be able to push yourself to walk. You kept pulling your jacket closer together, and your dress further down. And you covered your face with your hands. You gave your eyes darkness. And darkness it saw. 

Noises became blurrier with the intense clouding of your mind. He’d get here…He’d get here…

Bright lights suddenly hit your eyelids. That must’ve been him, but you couldn’t open your eyes. The lights then came off, and you found the will to open them up to a crack. 

It was somewhat fuzzy and blurry, but you could recognize your dad’s figure rushing over. When he knelt down in front of you, he cupped your face and what he looked like was clear. You’d never thought a face could be so terrified. 

“Baby…What happened to you?” You heard blurred. 

Struggling was feeling infinite…

And then feeling was gone. 

There would never be one word to describe Tony’s worry. Not even infinite. 

Natasha drove as fast as she could without getting a ticket to the tower while Tony and Bruce tried to figure out what had happened to you in the backseat. Bruce had brought a kit, so he could do minor things before they got back. 

Bruce looked all over her skin, her face, everywhere observable without taking clothes off besides her jacket. He found bruises on her wrists, a gash on her temple that could’ve been caused by glass. 

“She was at a party, Bruce, what could’ve gotten her hurt at a party?!” Tony exclaimed. The only things he could look at were his daughter and you. 

“I’m not sure, Tony.” Bruce keeps looking at your unconscious body carefully, looking at every injury or sign of what could’ve hurt you. He thought and thought, though. There was only one possibility he could think of at the moment, though…He couldn’t think of anything else. 



Bruce’s eyes were already showing pain to say what he was going to say. 

“She may’ve been raped,” He said lowly. 

Natasha’s eyes grew large and terrified at the thought of you raped. It would be easy for you to be a target because you were Tony’s daughter…But you were just at a public event. How would’ve that happened?

Tony is frozen, petrified, mortified. No, not his daughter. No, she couldn’t’ve been raped. You were too strong to…No…

“No,” Tony replies in straight denial. “She couldn’t have been raped-she wasn’t raped, Bruce.”

“Tony, what else could’ve it been?” Bruce asks softly. Natasha thought the same thing. 

“No…” Tony whispered. But he looked down at your body. Bruises. Gash. A broken expression. There was so much more that Tony was denying. 

“No, not my baby,” He whispered. 

Keep reading

reasons why

Originally posted by hobies

[drabble] all the reasons why you think yoongi shouldn’t date you, but all the more reasons why he thinks he should

“One date, that’s it.”

You sighed again, re-adjusting your slumped position on your bed. It’s been nearly two weeks since Yoongi first asked you out on a date. The moment the words left his lips, you were filled with doubt. Doubt about yourself, about a potential relationship, about ruining your friendship. “One date’s going to lead to much more and then wha-bam—we’re dating.”

He sat at the foot of your bed, taking one of your legs in one of his hands and beginning to massage your foot. “What’s wrong with that?”

“Don’t do that,” you pulled your foot out of his grasp. “My feet are gross.”

“So? You’re always on your feet working 24/7. You need it.” He leaned back on his elbow, watching you sit up and criss-cross your legs. You closed your laptop and just watched him fiddle with his phone.

“There are so many reasons why you shouldn’t date me.”

Yoongi merely rolled his eyes, “You’re exaggerating.”

Silence filled the room as you studied the man laying on your bed in front of you. From the mop of messy bleached strands brushing his forehead to his tired eyes staring endlessly at his phone, to the slope of nose to his undoubtedly pink lips, he looked like a heaven-sent god.

You didn’t think you were someone Yoongi could be interested in romantically.

Then again, you were one of his best friends. You two shared everything with each other, you were always on the same page. Where he was, you were usually in the same vicinity, if not, he was texting you or sending you messages.

Your friendship was something you treasured dearly, you didn’t want to ruin it by jumping headfirst into a relationship. That wasn’t you—that wasn’t Yoongi either, which means that he did think about this.

But doubt still filled your head. You immediately blurted out the first thing that came to mind, “I’m a pain in the ass.”

“Everyone else in the world is too.” He rebutted.

You glanced around your small studio apartment, the stack of dirty dishes in your kitchen sink catching your eye. “I’m a terrible cook.”

“There’s take-out, restaurants, and we can try cooking too, we made that one dinner last time.” Your mind went to the one moment you and Yoongi cooked together at his dorm’s kitchen, how you left the meat cooking in the pan for too long and accidentally dried it out too much because Yoongi kept you distracted with his impromptu musical performances featuring his off-key singing voice and spectacular dance moves. It was definitely a night to remember when you woke up from Yoongi’s shoulder on the couch to Seokjin’s yelling at you both for dirtying up his kitchen with overcooked meat and bland rice.

You paused, looking at your closed laptop and open notebook, “I’m super busy with work and classes.”

“I’m busy with recording, practices and touring, but I’m willing to make it work if you are.”

“I’m bad at texting you back right away.”

“That’s a lie, you always text me back.” Okay, he definitely caught you in that lie. “And I’ll be okay as long as you do remember eventually.”

“I look terrible in the morning.”

“I don’t care what you look like in the morning.” He grumbled, not even sparing you a glance as his eyes stayed on his phone. “I’ll be fine as long as you’re next to me.”

You felt your cheeks blush and you leaned back in your bed, staring up at the white ceiling as you racked your brain for another excuse. All you heard was Yoongi’s music playing and his incessant tapping on his screen. Once you came up with another reason, you sat straight up, “I bottle up all my feelings inside and I won’t tell you anything unless you directly ask me and pester me till I blow up.”

“Good thing I got all the time in the world.”

“Yah!” You smacked him with your pillow, a pout on your lips as he raised his hands up innocently. “Stop being so slick.” He laid on his back with a smile beaming up at you, his eyes turning into half-moons as he stared up at you. That gummy smile was going to be the death of you.

You bit your lip, “One date, yah?”

“One date.” He repeated with finality. His sincerity pulled at your heart strings again. You didn’t have to look at him to know that the corners of his gummy smile was probably reaching his ears.

“Give me one reason why I should.”

“Because I like you and you like me, simple as that.”

a/n: a little something something I thought of, simple as that:) 

originofthedragonage  asked:

While it is sad mark won't be doing anymore skits involving host, author, bim, ed edgar, or silver shepard, an alternative thought is that the possibilites are endless now. Literally ANYTHING can be canon. The headcanon that bim has a rooftop garden? Bam. Canon. The HC that hosty can see every timeline which is why he has a bloody blindfold? Wha-bam. Canon. Perfect opportunity really

Yes! I’m real sad we don’t get to see Mark’s ideas, but it is completely understood! So like, Host L O V I N G tea shops and having a talent for knitting and stitching??? Totally canon now. Bim being a total scaredy cat when it comes to horror movies and such? IT WORKS.


FAQ  |  pt. 1  |  pt. 2  |  pt. 3  |  pt. 4  |  pt. 5  |  pt. 6  |  pt. 7  |  pt. 8  |  pt. 9  |  pt. 10  |  pt. 11  |  pt. 12  |  pt. 13  |  pt. 14  |  pt. 15  |  pt. 16  |  pt. 17  |  pt. 18  |  pt. 19  |  pt. 20

art, art, art, arrrrrrt.  okay, i’m done.  except.  also.  y’know.  ART!

Lydia’s a study in disinterest.  Gaze stretching out across campus, lips pursed in judgment of the impromptu Frisbee match forming on the quad, position oriented to scarcely acknowledge that she’s standing with Stiles.

Stiles is tempted to tell her to drop the act because once obsession with someone has been coded into his DNA, there’s not so much as a micro-expression that he’s likely to miss.  He’s definitely already caught on to and catalogued the shrewdness that has been attacking her face all day.  She knows something but she doesn’t know what she knows and she’s been hawk-eyed and predatory ever since she figured out that much.

Stiles is not going to encourage any of that, thanks much.  Side note: why is everyone around him comparable to some type of bird?  Not that he’s thinking about hummingbirds, because he isn’t.  He could be, but he’s not, because he’s in control of his brain and he’s decided: no.  Crap.  Firstly, he’s totally thinking about hummingbirds.  Second-of-ly, what kind of bird would that make him?  Oh man, probably some kind of friggin’ goose.

He hates geese.

Now he knows it’s likely because he’s subconsciously recognized a kinship to them.

“If you had to pick a feathered representation for me, it wouldn’t be a goose, right?”

Years of following his bullet-speed trains of thought has led to Lydia taking that completely in stride.  She doesn’t even bother to look up at him, hand fishing in her purse for her phone to check the time.  “A seabird probably,” she offers, lighting up the screen, “they’re clumsy on land.”

“Well that’s a self-esteem boost I didn’t know I needed,” Stiles says dryly.  “You’re a true humanitarian, Lyds.  Also, the correct answer was secret option C) some kind of dinosaur.  I would’ve preferred stegosaurus, for the record.”

She brushes the hair out of her face, glances at him.  “I could have said a hoatzin.”

Stiles has legitimately no idea what that is.  “Th… anks?”  He thinks. Probably.

“More commonly known as stinkbirds.  You’re welcome,” she confirms.  Her gaze is less glancing, more stripping and Stiles pretends not to notice.  “Expert deflection, Stiles, truly.”  She golf claps mockingly and Stiles glares back at her.  “Now what are you deflecting?”

“If I tell you, they’ll revoke my ‘expert’ status,” Stiles points out smartly, “And rip up my ribbon.  I can’t have that, I’ve already put it in the family newsletter.”

Keep reading

Copycat in Red and Black

A Deadpool x HarleyQuinn!Reader

Your name: submit What is this?

Requested from this imagine.

!!!WARNING – (First of all I’m writing for Deadpool so what do you expect..) Issues with father figures, kidnapping, violence with weapons, Abusive relationship and Physical abuse

It was midnight and Deadpool was sneaking into an abandoned warehouse for a mission. He walked into the dark warehouse and saw a young girl tied to a chair under a dim, flickering light.

“Please…don’t hurt me again.”

He jogged over to her and sat down next to her.

“Hey there, I’m Pool, Dead, I’m not here to hurt you.” He said. “Oh well!” He was sitting cross-legged next to the girl and started cleaning his gun.

The girl whimpered and pleaded. “Plea- Please don’t kill me…” Her voice was shaky, she had tears in her eyes and she was trembling or of fear.

“What? Oh n-n-n-n-n-n-no! I’m just here to kill the guy that kidnapped you.” Wade said informally.  

“You work with her don’t you!”

“No! Oh for goodness sakes, can you just tell me what your kidnapper looks like.” Deadpool deadpanned.

“Sh-She’s wearing a mask, she looks like a freak…she dresses in red and black a- and she looks just like you.” the girl stammered out.

“Did you call me a freak? Wait she looks like me? Wait…she?”

The girl nodded and then gasped when she heard the warehouse door creak. “She’s coming.”

“Um okay well, stay here.” Deadpool said before disappearing into the dark.

“Ayye…sheesh, you think at least one cafe would have a working frappe machine.” A new voice appeared.

It was a she, Wade wasn’t able to see her yet but from the description the girl gave him it wouldn’t be that hard. ‘Hmm my hopefully sexy female doppelganger?’

A woman came out of the shadows and into the dim lighting; she circled around the victim and stopped in front of her. She was dressed in a red and black latex jumpsuit with her face painted white. “Well, well, well, you’re still here, Emma? Thank you for not running away.” the hostage gave her captor the ‘are you serious’ look.

“Oh, someone must have some serious daddy issues.” Deadpool whispered quietly to himself.

“Okay you harlequin, time to die.” He jumped out with his handguns in both hands. The woman just stared at him with big eyes.





“You said my name.”


“It’s Harley Quinn…puddin.” she smiled wildly before pulling out a gun.

“Oh, Harley if you think that’s going to kill me, you must have no idea who I am.” The mercenary joked. “I really don’t want to fight you, so just let the girl go and we can all leave without any bruises.”

You laughed and grinned madly, “Well then that’s a no-brainer.” you said, the guy in red and black laughed and was about to speak before you interrupted him, “I’m not letting her go until I get the ransom, but you not fighting back we’ll be easier for me, mistah.”

“Ooh hey-”

You shot him twice in the chest, but he didn’t seem phased. “What?”

“See Harley babe, you can’t get rid of me.”

“Can you even feel pain?”


“Eh, good enough for me.”


               BAM!    POW!

Deadpool now lay pathetically on the floor waiting for his healing factor to kick in. A number had really been done on him, shot in one eye, took some solid punches and cracked his neck.

“I’m sorry puddin’ but little miss hostage’s daddy ain’t co-operating with me right now.”

“…you…stole…my…costume…” he spluttered out.

You smiled your signature smile and said, “No- nu- uh this costume was original till you copied it.”



Her temporary shitty phone rang, it was the Joker, she got excited he never called her, usually if he only really needed Y/N for something he’d get one of his henchmen to do it. The woman got excited and answered it immediately.


‘HARLEY!’ The voice on the other side shrieked.

“Yes, Mr J?”


“Uh-No…not yet…”

“USELESS! For once in your life Harley do something right and keep the hostage there until I get there.” He sighed and hung up. You slowly dropped your hand and put the phone in your pocket. You messed up, again.

“He sounds like a dick.”

You turned around and looked at the mercenary, your lip was quivering. “NO! SHUT UP! YOU DON’T KNOW ANYTHING ABOUT MY MR J!”

Deadpool’s eyes squinted; he was still on the floor.

You tied him up and put him next to the long-forgotten hostage. Sniffling, you walked out of the light and waited for the Joker.

“So…your boyfriend an abusive asshole?”

“SHUT UP! He’s not an asshole, and he’s not my boyfriend…or, or abu- SHUT UP!” You slapped him across the face.

“Mr J is just misunderstood.”

“Okay, but uh if you ever need me to cut off his balls I’ll give you my number, assuming I’m alive,” he said. “SO CALL ME ANYTIME, I’M IMMORTAL.”

She shook your head suppressing the smallest smile.



“My real name…it’s Y/N, Puddin’ keeps thinking its Harley… so it kinda stuck.”

“Wade.” Deadpool smiled.

The hostage looked over at the two lunatics that were currently having a moment, ‘WTF’.


“Uh Oh.”

“This sucks balls.” Deadpool said looking over to the other hostage who was tied up.

“Shut up, I thought you were meant to help me.” The girl said spitefully.

“I am.” Deadpool showed the girl his arms which had the ropes just now cut.

He went behind the girl and cut the rope.

“Stay close.” He said.

The two of them slipped through the abandoned slaughter house factory until they saw a small light coming from outside, the  girl dashed through and made her way out on to the street, Wade was about to follow until he heard screaming. He kept walking towards the noise; the voices become much louder as he climbed the stairs leading to what seems used to be an office.

“WELL, WHAT DO YOU MEAN HE’S NOT CO-OPERATING!?” A male voice said maliciously.

“Well, he said he’s not gonna pay until we give her back first.”


“I-I tried Mr J, believe me.”

Deadpool peered behind the wall and saw Y/N; all her white face-paint was off because of what could only be tears, she had a bruise on her cheek, ‘That wasn’t there before…’ Wade thought. Then he saw a white gloved hand begin to rise up and try to slap her again before luckily being stopped by the sound of a ring tone.

The hand froze and went to pull out a phone; Deadpool finally got a look at the man that was screaming even if it was only his back. ‘Green hair, really?! These people are nuts.’

Deadpool jumped out quietly into the room, the Joker had his back turned so the only person that noticed him was Y/N, she quickly shook her head quietly trying to convince him to leave, Deadpool got a full look at her now. She had more cuts and bruises, he pulled out a gun and aimed it at the Joker’s head.

“Now, now Deadpool you don’t want to do that.” The green haired man said with his back still facing them.

“Why not?”

“Because would be a silly thing to do.”

Deadpool wasted no time shooting the Joker at the back of the head. He turned to a wide-eyed Y/N.

“I did you a favour.”

He grabbed her arm and ran out of the factory, they ran for hours until they stopped at a small diner along a beach he honestly had no idea where the hell he was he just kept running clasping her hand in his.

“W-Why did you do that?”

“I don’t like copycats, but if there’s one thing I hate more than anything, its abusive shitheads. When he was about to slap you, you didn’t even flinch, like you were waiting for it. I hate that.”

“Mr J wasn’t abusive!”

“Yes he was! You shouldn’t put bruises on people you love- unless they’re hickeys, don’t put hickeys on your family though, maybe you got like a girlfriend or boyfriend or something- anyway what I’m saying is that HE. IS. ABUSIVE.  The sooner you realise that the better.” Wade cried.

Y/N’s eyes widened and gears shifted in her head, she moved over behind him and started to massage his shoulders.

“What are yo- Ooh, yeah I like this keep going,” he moaned “ooh yeah.”

“You know what funny thing is Mr?”

“Mmm what’s that?” Deadpool said his eyes had drifted closed.

Suddenly she stopped; Wade waited a while before opening his eyes to see two of his guns gone and Y/N in a –most likely stolen- vehicle waving at him with his gun in hand.

She smiled a bright smile at him, “You know Mr, I like you, and hopefully one day we’ll meet again. Bye Bye Mr D.” She smiled seductively before zooming off with the stolen car.

‘Mr D hmm gotta try and get everyone to call me that now.’

So I open up Voltage Amemix’s Hades Main Story 1, right?

And I start reading the first chapter, right?

And then BAM!!

Wha–WHAAAATTT? A black woman in a Voltage game! Look at her, so damn gorgeous I can’t take it. She’s like a goddess or something.



Everything about her is wonderful! Full lips, a lipstick color that complements her skin tone, earth toned box braids pulled up into an elegant updo topped off with a flower. Oh goddess of spring! <3 <3

But really, Voltage have yall been reading Hype Hair magazine? Cuz those braids are on point.

I’m going to cosplay as Persephone at a con. I don’t care if only like 5 people recognize me. Maybe if I can make it to Anime Expo next year I can pop by the Voltage booth in this cosplay.