~If AI uses my creative works as training they'll be shot on sight, thank you.~
~Mainly shitposts and memes, with a side of personal writing and art provided by moi.
I'm more active now (as of late Jan of 2026) so my asks are open, as well as writing commissions and writing and art requests for fandoms!~
~Links below~
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~ A Sonic, Toy Story, DC, Hetalia, NBC Heroes, Lupin III, Nanoha, and Cyberchase hoe. ~
A/N: It took me this long to pump out SIM content?! OOF. Shame on me. 💀 Inspired by that one SIM run that I have fully read around the time it was released purely out of curiosity, and... the art. Yes. The art is... art'ing. 👀💧...👌
Anyways! Here's a lil' something Tony-related in the meantime while I work out the kinks on TSDO, because last I checked, the SIM x Reader content well is fucking DRY. Other works may come out too, before TSDO's Chapter 5, only because they're bite-sized comparatively. Plus, my brain kept gnawing at me to get my ass on expanding this singular SIM idea. The return of the rot is all-consuming as usual. 😅
Tags will be added as the story progresses, but I also don't plan to have a lot of chapters involved. Depends on how thorough I make it, but length will mostly be short and sweet. This also may read as less Yan!/Dark! as it goes on, so changes to the title may happen as I work on this; i.e., take Yan! and Dark! with a grain of salt for now (it's still tagged below, and may be removed later on too).
This is one idea not planned out much at all besides an overarching end goal, and I'm mostly winging it as the concepts come while trying not to get hung up on too many details. Mainly focused on writing it out and pushing the story forward more than anything. So this fic is less serious in regards to planning and plot holes may be prominent. Nevertheless, I hope it'll still be an enjoyable ride, and worthy food for SIM fans. 😊 Also, Fem!Reader all the way here by intention due to how the story ends up progressing.
He realizes that to be a proper ruler to his subjects, he needs someone to stand by his side and submissive to his every wish: a perfect example of obedience and authority to inspire the masses. A queen of sorts is what he decides on, and it is then when you— luckily or unluckily— fell into his line of sight.
Or, you were simply in the wrong place at the wrong time when he first met you: suspended in the air over the city while the person gripping you taunts Superior Iron Man with a gruesome description of your body splattered onto the pavement. (The rest, as they say, is history.)
Yandere!Dark(er)?Superior!Tony Stark x Fem!Kidnapped!Reader- His Queen to Her King (Superior!Iron Man Is His Own Warning, SIM's God Complex Shines As Bright As His Chrome Finish)
Chapter 1: Morning Adrenaline
(image source here)
Taglist: (if anyone wants to be added for this fic just let me know!)
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You can’t really fathom how you got here in the first place, but you find that recounting the tale hardly matters in the grand scheme of things. Especially when you’re one second away from tumbling off the building’s roof you’re dangled upside down over, as the one who holds your fate in his hands is mocking the superhero before him. Your own insistence on ensuring you aren’t flashing them is yet another minor detail with your new victim title card, but you can’t help but force the fabric of your skirt upward anyway out of pure, instinctual habit.
“You can save her by giving me what I need, what you took from me! If you don’t…” His scuffed shoes shuffle closer to the edge of the roof, and you’re dangling farther out in the air. “One wrong move and the poor lady gets it.” He growls while shaking the leg he entraps you with for effect, and the violent swaying is nauseating enough for you to groan unpleasantly. “Would be a shame to see ‘er brains spread a—ll over the street. Mindless violence for a simple solution, eh?”
You shiver, from both the harsh chill of the wind that passes and your kidnapper’s cruel words. You can’t help it when your mind and heart race faster at the thought of your upcoming fate. You do your best to not imagine it, but it is difficult for your mind to stray from it. This guy was way too mentally unstable for you not to fall, even if his wishes were granted. At any point, before you could even comprehend it, those grubby fingers will release. The blood continuously rushing to your head doesn’t help matters.
You almost think you hear the armored suit wrong when he calls your kidnapper’s bluff, literally mocking him with a robotic scoff: “please, you really think I care what happens to her? You should be more worried about yourself,” before immediately attacking him via screeching repulsor blast, but your sudden freefall is all the confirmation you need. You could only manage a shocked gasp, choking on the heart now beating in your throat as the wind effortlessly whips through your hair and layers of clothing.
You fancy reaching out to grab the flagpole protruding from the same structure you’re falling by to stop your descent as it grows ever closer, but you easily visualize the scene in mere milliseconds: you end up inadvertently pulling your arms out of your sockets from such a fast velocity— rendering your drop more wild and gruesome— and it sufficiently scares you out of acting upon that idea.
There’s not much else to do but tuck your arms close to your body and await whatever lies below, mentally belittling yourself for even attempting to go out this morning if this was what you would encounter. Seeing how swiftly the ground is approaching, you close your eyes tightly and hope that somehow, against all odds, that the impact would hurt less this way.
Perhaps you’d black out before the pain even registers.
Something solid stops your free fall abruptly, gripping you tightly toward it. And while your mind and stomach violently spin from the disorientation, you recognize that it’s not the flat concrete that you were expecting to impact. Whatever holds you is still something unyieldingly solid though, and seems to hum with some kind of energy. You almost shriek at the sudden contact with what limited air supply you have, but you still stubbornly keep your eyes shut— too scared of what you might witness next.
Your descent then continues gently, the wind now delicately caressing your tear-stained cheeks in a mock-soothing fashion before the motion slows considerably, and stops. It is then you recognize you’ve been held under your knees and upper back. When the firm grip on you shifts, you’re positioned to where your feet touch down on what feels to be solid ground. The foreign hold on your body releases only after you fully stabilize yourself. Finally opening your eyes, you fail to see anything past the shiny armor that blinds you like a pair of high beam headlights. You hear a chuckle as you try to visually adjust, stepping away with a groan and rubbing your lids with both hands.
The next thing you observe as you refocus is something of a mocking smile painted on the face of your savior. He looks at you behind white metal gleaming under the full sunlight, somewhat expectantly. It befuddles you enough to keep staring, looking for an answer you don't receive. The intense cologne emanating from him clouds your senses further. “Got you speechless, hm? No need to thank me; your reverence is enough, sweetheart. Then again, if you want to shower me in praise, I won't stop you.”
“You let me fall off a building,” you deadpan, wrinkling your brows as a more neutral emotion morphs itself across your features. The question you had conjured up and were about to pose is immediately buried upon clocking his condescension.
“All in the past.” Tony brushes you off, waving a hand in the air akin to dismissal as stray ravenette locks flop around with the shake his head makes. “And you weren't even scratched. That's a win-win in anybody's book.”
As you wordlessly stare at him, his phrasing soaking into your brain the longer you stand there while a crowd forms around you both, you come to a startling conclusion.
This is the man who chose to shoot first, come to your aid later, and expect your undying devotion that he even showed up— equating himself to a god-like figure for the bare minimum. Not even sorry for his verbal bashing on the roof. And judging by the sea of cameras and pedestrians circling the two of you, air littered with sounds of curiosity and praise, the rest of the world had a completely different narrative of him. And they were too engrossed in the presence of the cocky man before you to even care to hear what you had just said.
Too frustrated to hide it, you brush your clothes from the grime it collected during your unsavory morning, adamant on avoiding his attentive ice-blue eyes as you huff in displeasure. “Could’ve warned me with a signal or something…”
“How ‘bout this,” he starts slowly, showcasing a charming smile you barely notice out of the corner of your eye, but succeeds in amping up the fans’ rowdiness. “The next time you find yourself in trouble, just call for your superior, and Iron Man will gladly save you.” Tony lifts his hand, flipping it over to expose the bluish glow emanating from his fingertips in some vague, placating gesture you couldn’t care to comprehend the meaning of. “Wanna smile for the cameras, sweetheart?” His tone dips low, grin slowly morphing into something feral the longer you don’t respond. Even still, he attempts to coax you into playing along with barely any concealed subtlety, wiggling those digits tauntingly like a devil proposing a deal. “Make sure they get your good side?” More clicks and shutters fill the air, and as he pivots his head to wink and salute toward them, your patience wears itself thinner.
“There won’t be a next time,” you grumble to yourself more than anything, knowing his focus on you won’t be returning. Promptly spinning on your heel, you march away, careless what direction you’re actually going in as long as it’s opposite of him. You refused to entertain someone who insinuated your kidnapping was your fault— rescuer or not— and acted like your almost-death was as inconsequential as his own actions.
“Sure there won’t,” your ears vaguely catch it, the way the drawl hints at something more underneath the layered calls of the crowd converging onto him, reminiscent of a teasing promise. It only serves to fuel the irritation boiling inside you. Those emotional flames burn hotter as you roughly shoulder past insistent reporters shoving different devices in your face, continuously exclaiming his name as they desperately hound you for a juicy comment.
After today, Iron Man was not classified as a hero in your book— someone who cared for the well-being of Californian citizens as you once were led to believe by his past deeds. Rather, he was a self-centered prick who only prioritized spinning his actions to look favorable in the public eye, despite its less glamorous context. Someone who would gladly step on the little guy with no remorse, purely for his own gain.
There was absolutely no way in hell you would ever call him for help. Nothing about that experience was heroic in the slightest.
You almost wished you had kept falling. Better yet, never even got out of bed today.
if the dad’s best friend trope where he knew reader since they were born and immediately have feelings and attraction the minute reader turns 18 has no haters that means i'm dead
I really like when people write older readers in x reader, idk why
"Big age gap" "college student reader" "19/50" fuck that porno shit, man, give me a reader who's in their thirties, forties even, give me joint pain and wrinkles and gray hairs
"But that's not relatable at all!!! I'm not forty!!!" Well, neither are you a fucking Avenger, are you? So just roll with it
Geez, you cannot get a little cheeky without summoning a SWAT team (aka your boyfriend), Shadow has no chill 🤭
I had an urge to draw Shadow's quills in ridiculous ways, prepare for more.
Early access and HiRes on Patreon, if you're interested!
I made an animatic a while back titled “Don’t You Dare” and I just wanted to say that I made a totally new version!!! It’s made its rounds on Twitter but I figured I’d post the new and improved version to here. For those that recognize it, the original was posted to @shadamyheadcanons blog a while back.
The Free Literary Works page on my blog has been updated with active links and my recent additions that I forgot to add! (no one told me half of them were broken 😭) This was done on desktop so if opening them on mobile doesn't work, lmk! I likely won't be getting around to troubleshooting them myself until after a few day's time, but i'll take note of any specific links mentioned. 👍
(Also my long-form fic has an acronym now btw 👀)
Also will be overhauling my writing comm and ko-fi page a bit and will post an update when that's done.
theartofmadeline
areudirty
origamiaround
gummygunk
