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marvelflame2010 · 11 months

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Natasha x daughter

"Mom, I'm home from school!", introduced Y/n as she entered the empty apartment. She walked into the kitchen and noticed a note on the fridge.

The note read, "Y/n, I was called on a mission. I'll be back late again. Don't burn the kitchen down making pasta. (JK, I know you are better than that ;) ). See you soon, love. -Mom."

Y/n smiled at the note and sat down to start her homework.

*Time skip*

Y/n was just getting ready to start dinner when her phone rang. The contact read, "UNKNOWN."

Rolling her eyes, knowing what's about to happen, Y/n answered the phone. "Y/n here, no I will not give you the homework answers. Look it up."

"Miss Y/n", a gravely voice rang, "I have kidnapped your mother."

"Who?", Y/n taunted the man.

"Your mother. Natasha Romanoff. Black Widow", the man answered, raising his eyebrow.

"Oh, that mom! Yeah, can you put her on the phone please?", Y/n asked.

The man was confused and looked at his friend for backup, to which he shrugged.

"Ok", the man said, giving the phone to Natasha, who was tied up in a chair.

She positioned the phone under her neck. "Hi, hon", she greeted her daughter.

"Hi, Mom. Quick question. If you got stabbed in between your 4th and 5th ribs, would you cough up blood?"

"...Probably. Why, were you stabbed?", asked Natasha.

"No, I was just curious because we need to write a short story for English class that is due in 2 weeks and I want to write about this woman who has continued to kill her soulmate to stay alive because if you meet your soulmate, you grow old. But she doesn't want to grow old and kills her soulmate, but he just keeps coming back to live over and over", Y/n explained.

"That is a really good idea, and I would be like to read it when you are done", Natasha answered, interested.

"Cool beans. Anyway, I'm just about to make dinner and re-watch 'Moana'. I'll let you get back to kicking butt", Y/n said.

"Alright. Love you", Natasha said.

"Love you more Mom. Stay safe! Don't get stabbed", Y/n warned, before hanging up.

The kidnapper took the phone, and processed to get head-butted by the infamous Black Widow.

*Time skip*

Natasha walked inside the apartment to darkness. She saw a note on the table along with a plate of pasta.

The note read, "Hey Mom. Made dinner and saved you a plate. Went to bed at 9 and maybe stole one of your shirts again. Tony called and said something about an update for your widow bite things. Chat tomorrow. Love you. -Y/n"

Natasha smiled walked to Y/n's room to see a sleeping Y/n, with a shirt on that Natasha stole from Clint in her early S.H.I.E.L.D. days. She walked over and kissed Y/n on the head.

"Sweet dreams, detka", Natasha whispered before she walked back to the kitchen for food.

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after-witch · 2 years

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Tooth Fairy [Yandere Mahito x Reader]

Title: Tooth Fairy [Yandere Mahito x Reader]

Synopsis: Mahito wants to play dentist. Who are you to deny him? Especially when he’s strapped you to the chair and won’t let you leave.

For Horrorfest request: mahito + dentophobia!

Word Count: 2642

notes: yandere, kidnapped reader, dental/mouth torture, blood, pain, physical torture, did I mention dental torture

“I’ve always found human teeth interesting.”

Above you, Mahito looms, eyes dilated with a sadistic eagerness that sends tight coldness shooting down your stomach. He grins down at you, his own teeth white and gleaming, and then pivots back to mess with unseen tools that clatter with clinking, metal sounds that send fear jolting through you.

“They shouldn’t be sharp enough to hurt, but they can be.” He giggles, the sound too loud in the small room you’re in. “I know from firsthand experience. Boy, humans like to bite when they’re scared.” He hums softly. “But I suppose that’s what Geto would call ‘animal’ instinct, isn’t it?”

You don’t answer. You don’t want to indulge him in this new, sudden sick twisted game he wants to play. Game… even the thought comes out all bitter and twisted. This isn’t a game. Not to you. To him, yes, like all things are… kidnapping and pain and outright murder. To you, it is nothing of the sort.

All of it--the sounds and lights and Mahito’s eyes and words and the unmistakable sound of tools being placed on a tray--makes you want to run far and fast. But you can’t run. You can’t even move. Not when you’re strapped to the dental chair, thick leather straps tight across your arms and legs and your forehead, keeping you from doing so much as turning away from the harsh light--and Mahito’s stare--above you.

“Please,” you mumble, quiet, terrified. You want to scream. But that would involve opening your mouth far more than you’re comfortable doing right now. So instead you keep it quiet, barely opening your lips. “Please don’t hurt me.”

“Hm?”

Mahito leans over you, back in view, head tilted in curiosity and confusion. It might have been an adorable gesture on someone else. But you knew him, and knew what he could do, and knew what he wanted to do with you on some innate level, no matter how much he swore you were his pretty pet that he wanted to keep forever and ever. Someday, you’re sure, you will end up like the rest of the humans he took an interest in. Deformed and wishing you were dead.

You’re already halfway there, after all.

“Hurt you?” Mahito smiles, and it does nothing to calm you. “I’m trying to help!” He pouts, honest to goodness pouts. “You said your tooth hurt, didn’t you?”

“It does,” you say, pitiful, still keeping your mouth as shut as possible. “But I need to go to a dentist. Please. I’ll… I’ll come back, you know I will. You can even stay with me. They won’t see you.”

Something in his expression shifts at your words, the look in his eyes darkening for a fraction of a second. Long enough to scare you. Long enough to make you shut the fuck up about going anywhere that he doesn’t take you himself.

“Don’t talk about leaving me. I don’t like it,” he says, voice low and thick.

But then this grin is back, wide and eager and absolutely horrifying, bringing with it the sickeningly cheerful tone you’ve come to despite.

“Now open wide, okay?”

You press your lips together as tight as you can but it doesn’t matter. His fingers grip your jaw tight and you cry out, leaving enough of an opening for him to slide his fingers inside your mouth. You groan against it, tasting the salt of his skin, the warmth that never feels quite natural. The sounds you make aren’t quite words, no, just pitiful pleas that go fully heard but unanswered.

“Now, where did I put it…”

You plead around his fingers, drool collecting in your mouth, but he pays you no mind. Instead he reaches out with his other arm, moving around the clanking metal tools, until you see his arm still.

“Aha! There it is!” His smile is triumphant as he pulls what he was looking for into view.

It’s a dental gag. Big and metal and absolutely ominous.

“Pleash,” you beg, tears in your eyes, drool in your mouth, fingers pressing against your tongue. You can’t even articulate the pitiful pleas you want to get out.

It doesn’t matter. He doesn’t intend to grant them anyway.

“No.” He’s barely looking at you, instead dangling the dental gag from his hands, admiring it, turning it over with his fingers. And then the hand is coming towards your mouth, and you desperately try to clamp your lips shut, but there’s nothing to be done as fingers--too many, so many more fingers than ten--spread your mouth wide so he can slide the gag in.

It hurts. It pinches. It tastes like cold metal and keeps your mouth open too wide, too vulnerable.

That’s exactly what he wants, though.

You plea again, but it doesn’t even remotely resemble the words you want to say. Not that he’d be listening to them even if you had the articulation of a veteran theater actor. He wants to do what he wants, always… to you, to everyone else, even to himself. Why should this be different?

The grin above you almost feels manic. Like he’s finally getting to open the Christmas present that has been sitting under the tree for days, taunting and teasing him.

“I hope you don’t mind if I skip the mask.” He purses his lips. “And the gloves.” Your moan something incomprehensible and he titters. “Don’t worry, my hands are clean. Aren’t they always?” He doesn’t wait for whatever response you might try to give and instead grabs something from the tray he’s set up near the chair.

You see the sharp hook of the scaler for just a moment as Mahito brings it into your mouth. There’s nothing at first, and then you feel the sharp poke of it in your gums, too hard, to sharp.

“Oops!” He peers inside your mouth, aided by the light hanging above. “Huh, it’s a lot harder than it looks. I did watch someone at the dentist do this, you know.” He seems to puff up with a bit of pride. “I researched. Aren’t you grateful?”

He peers into your eyes, wide and tear-filled, and you merely whimper, an inarticulate pitiful sound with the gag in your mouth.

“I’m sure you are,” he sighs almost wistfully as he brings the tool back into your mouth, dragging it too harshly over your gums, scraping at the spaces between your teeth in what might be an attempt to mimic the usage of the tool by a real dentist.

At a real dentist appointment, you might try to hold back moans of discomfort, at least the small pain that comes with tartar being scraped off your teeth. But here, with Mahito above you, jabbing the hooked end of the scaler too harshly into the sensitive tissue of your gums, you can’t even try to keep the sounds at bay.

It hurts. You want to scream. You can’t, even if you wanted to, because of the gag and the blood pooling in your mouth. The sharp hot metallic tang of it seems to flood around your gum line, resting in a pool near your tongue. You swallow--what else can you do?--and the taste is vile. Fear and pain and blood are a terrible mixture.

Tears prick at your eyes. It hurts. It hurts and you’re groaning and Mahito just smiles and keeps on digging. The feeling of it scraping at your teeth, the sound it makes, your inability to do as little as move your head an inch away--it’s all so much. But that’s how he wants it. Overwhelming and absolute. His touch on you, his effect on you, making you dance to his beat. Sometimes literally. And sometimes like this, bound to a chair, wishing that he’d just turned you into one of those monstrosities that he like to show you. Maybe that would be better than this.

He continues, and you get the vague sensation that he’s exploring your mouth with the sharpest object available. Poking at your gums and peering inside to see what happens. Scraping at the back of your teeth, in the spaces in between them, running the flat edge along your tongue and then watching the way that it flinches and then stays still--terrified, as if your tongue was some wild animal sensing the presence of a predator.

And then the sharp tip of the scaler comes right down into the center of a cavity.

You squeal. It’s a terrible sound. Raw and animal-like. You sound like a pig.

Hot tears stream down your face. Even after he pulls away--which he does all too slowly--you feel the pain, stinging, a searing ache that travels down your nerve.

“Did that hurt?” He coos. As if he didn’t hear you scream. As if he didn’t see the ugly tears streaming down the side of your face. As if he couldn’t feel the pain oozing out through your soul, with his fingers on your face.

You’re crying now, sobbing, a horrible noise with your mouth stuck open wide and filled with spit and blood.

“Sorry!” His smile is wide and seemingly sincere. You wonder if anyone ever fell for those smiles. You feel pity for those people, if they do exist, along with a mild form of disgust. Being around Mahito for as long as you have… knowing him as you know him, somehow dulls your senses of pity towards others who encounter the curse that has ruined your life.

“Let me try something else,” Mahito says, setting down the bloody scaler and fiddling with the other tools.

“No,” you beg, or at least you try to say no, you want to say no. It’s hard to form words like this. Fear has filled you with adrenaline, and you strain against the straps keeping you in the chair. But they’re just as tight and restrictive and awful as the life you’ve been leading of late. You’re not getting out of this.

“Aha!” Mahito crows in triumph and holds up something that makes your entire body tighten into one, tight, awful ball, before the sensation that your stomach has escaped out of your flesh and dropped to the floor. Greasy and slow and cold.

He’s holding up pliers.

“No, no--Mahito,” you mumble through the gag, hysterical, though the words come out more nonsensical than ever.

Mahito’s hands reach for your face and pet your tear-streaked cheeks. He rubs the tears around with his thumb, laughing softly.

“Don’t worry. I watched a video on this! I know what I’m doing.” He taps your cheek, and winks. “Just remember to thank me after I get that nasty tooth out, okay? You know I don’t like it when you’re mean to me!”

Your breath comes out in shallow, awful pants, and you taste the blood.

Your eyes widen.

And you watch helplessly as Mahito sticks the pliers inside your wide open mouth.

First, you feel the coldness of the metal brushing against the inside of your cheek.

Then you feel the press of the metal against your gums as he presses it over your aching tooth and clamps the pliers shut, snug over each side.

And then…

Then you feel the first tug.

Which is nothing… at first. Just an odd, unwelcome sensation of pulling.

Until Mahito hums and twists the pliers for the second tug, and you experience an awful searing pain that makes you forget the pain from earlier entirely.

Blood drips against your tongue and you taste it, vivid and metallic.

He doesn’t stop. He continues to pull and tug and you can’t experience anything but pain and pain and pain. Harsh and awful. Your nerves scream. Your body strains without thought against the bonds, wanting to get away and finding it impossible.

There’s a growing curious sensation, too, that you’re not entirely in your own body right now. Oh, you’re there. You feel the pain. Your heart pounds and you feel like you’re going to throw up and faint and die all in one moment. But suddenly you’re floating above it all, watching, wondering who this could be happening to; it couldn’t be happening to you, no. Why would you be strapped to a dental chair while a literal curse pulls your tooth out? That couldn’t be real.

But it is, and you’re reminded of that, pulled back into your body with a terrible thud when Mahito climbs up on the chair to give himself more purchase.

“This tooth is stubborn!” You can see, even with the pain and overhead lights and your tears making things a little blurry by now, that there is some blood on Mahito’s face. Maybe he wiped his fingers on his cheeks. Maybe some droplets flew out with the last few yanks.

The yanks hurt so much that you begin to see spots, black and fuzzy, at the edge of your vision. It’s not the first time you’ve passed out from pain since Mahito took you. You almost welcome it; you would welcome it more if you weren’t still feeling the agonizing sensation of Mahito pulling at your tooth with increased, desperate fervor.

And then it comes out.

You know it comes out not because you feel it, exactly, but because you see Mahito hold up the bloody tooth in the pliers right in front of his face. Some conscious part of your brain recognizes that you expected him to grin sadistically. But instead he holds it up and gazes at it with a soft, childlike curiosity.

His other hand reaches out and he touches the decayed tooth gingerly, all white and black and red.

“So this was in there…” He glances at your wide open, bloodied mouth. “And it was causing you pain, and now…” He drops it from the pliers into his open palm. “I have it.”

The tooth is tucked somewhere you can’t see and he glances back at you with something akin to affection, some soft expression that belies nothing about what he’s just done, what he’ll continue to do to you in the future. You wonder how he does that. How he switches from childlike softness to horrible sadism and back again, on a dime, on nothing. Does it matter if you understand it, though? You experience it regardless.

Your tongue reaches out and you feel the aching hole where your cavity-ridden tooth had been. There’s blood pooling in your mouth and finally it’s too much to swallow, and you cough against the liquid trickling down your throat.

He watches you for a few moments. And then the straps are gone, and your body is swinging up too quickly as he pivots the chair back to an upright position.

“Here you go, silly,” he singsongs. He holds out an empty paper cup in front of your face and you lean forward and let blood and drool dribble into it. It hurts too much to even think about spitting. Some of it doesn’t make it to the cup, and wet, sticky drool-blood sticks to your chin.

“Awww.” He takes the edge of his sleeve and wipes your mouth.

You whimper and let yourself fall against his chest.

Your mouth is aching. You want to cry but even that hurts now. The spot where your tooth was throbs. The pain from his earlier ministrations against your gums and teeth returns, too, soreness and scratches and cuts.

You moan out one wordless, pitiful cry against his body.

He presses his lips against the top of your sweaty forehead.

“Hey, be nice and thank me, and maybe we can get some ice for your mouth.” He hums and pulls you closer. “Though I am curious to see how much it will swell without it, so don’t be afraid to be a little mean, okay? In the name of science.”

You cry against his shirt.

He pats your back, understanding.

#mahito x reader #yandere mahito #yandere jujutsu kaisen #yandere jjk #yandere #afterwitch writes #aw horrorfest #decided to start with this one #my muuuuse 'non you are my muse.

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somnimagus · 3 months

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out of the frying pan and into the fire and into another frying pan that's also on fire

[id in alt text]

#dungeon meshi #dungeon meshi spoilers #dunmeshi #this past year i decided to get into some of the manga i hear people really rave about #and dunmeshi was the first one i read and i adore it so much i don't have the words #gosh ryoko kui is such a huge inspiration.. i hope i can save up and get physical copies of the manga some day #ohh and daydream hour if it ever releases in english...#and sorry toshiro doesn't have his armor. i always remember him in his disheveled casual arc #fan art #my art #i think i've just completely stopped trying to do a clean flat style... i've just started painting over my sketches now #it looks a little messy but it's so much more fun #this was the first time in awhile i looked forward to continuing a drawing

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wardingshout · 4 months

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Zelda goes mushroom girl

#tloz #a link to the past #zelda #link #my art #I was happy with that first one but for some reason decided it still needed a companion piece so I spent way too long on that second one...#I don't think there was any time during the progress where I was happy with it but hfduhdfu at least I got to Attempt drawing moss hell yea #I also at some point sat in Pyu's art stream and said I enjoy drawing legs As I was being murdered by the infamously impossibe (imo) squat.#it's ok I had fun !! but I need to learn how to let doodles be doodles or I'll never finish stuff at this rate dfsuhfd #if everything in my tloz tag looks like it was drawn by different people uuuh 2023 was art crisis year ngl......#I'm falling back into my old ways rn though #anyway I think about these two a lot I think they're both stone faced and awkward ppl in different ways but they try rly hard to be friends #like I like to think it starts out so incredibly awkward and a bit sad bc they keep stepping over each other's toes accidentally the harder #they try but idk they find comfy middle ground idk in my brain they have a very interesting friendship I wanna get around to drawing it #in a proper way that might make sense....#if I don't write 200 tags I will die maybe it's bc I grew up on dA or smth #and yes I know how to find 1 (one) type of mushroom /I/ am not mushroom girl unfortunately smh

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reineydraws · 2 months

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✨️ like father, like son ✨️

was talking to @eastbluesaga about how buggy dresses and acts more like roger, and how shanks dresses and acts more like rayleigh. the parallels are so good! especially considering buggy's getting pushed into the limelight now as the series ends, and how shanks has been making moves more in the background like a dark horse (or a dark king, perhaps?) this entire time.

like, you'd want to compare shanks to roger at first, especially considering the straw hat legacy, but shanks seems to be aware that it's more his role to facilitate than to be in the light himself--a similar role i assume rayleigh took as first mate of the pirate king. conversely, buggy's being quickly propelled into an advantageous position that spotlights him as important--a key figure in all things, surprisingly like a king, even tho he never quite believed he could have that for himself (and then hid in the east blue, where his captain was born!!!).

them!!!

#one piece #one piece fanart #op fanart #shanks #red haired shanks #akagami no shanks #buggy the clown #buggy the genius jester #silvers rayleigh #gol d roger #roger pirates #this started cuz we decided mihawk would respect buggy's fashion sense more than shanks's btw #shanks's hair is even getting to be like rayleigh's haha :')

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egophiliac · 3 months

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Please elaborate on your twst Pokémon headcannons I’m very interested

I had planned on drawing everyone for this (I made a LIST!) but it. hasn't been going well. 💀 soooo here's what I have so far!

Riddle - Roserade (I was going with 'no legendaries', otherwise I would've given him a Shaymin) (and I don't think Togedemaru is actually a hedgehog or I would've given him one of those too) (...they kind of do fit though. hmm.)

Trey - Alcremie (clover/mint cream + strawberry/ruby cream)

Cater - DITTO SQUAD! DITTO SQUAD! DITTO SQUAD!

Ace - Impidimp (I feel like there's probably a better one for him, but I can't think of it)

Deuce - Scraggy (meanwhile I KNOW deep in my heart that this is true)

Leona - Pyroar (but like. a nasty Pyroar. just a grizzly old Pyroar with the shittiest attitude imaginable. they pretend to hate each other but secretly they are a bonded pair, do not separate)

#art #twisted wonderland #pokemon #poketwst #i'm trying not to pressure myself too much art-wise right now #but i would like to do more of the characters!#(especially considering this started with my insistence that malleus would have a dragapult)#gotta draw something i don't immediately hate first ᕕ( ᐛ )ᕗ #ANYWAY enough art angst!#i'm not aiming for full teams or delving too deep into lore or anything #just one or two per character that i think fit!#i was pretty torn on leona for a while because pyroar is at once the obvious choice but also. not really?#(i did consider luxray and ultimately decided it doesn't really fit either)#but i kind of love Nasty Lionboy's Nasty Pyroar #i think there's probably some. like. ~royal tradition~ that they all bond with this one specific breeding line or whatever #and leona deliberately chose just the absolute worst one #took one look at this shitty rude pokemon and immediately went 'that one'#falena was like 'are...are you SURE' and leona cops an attitude like 'i'm choosing my OWN pokemon you're not my DAD'#as pyroar is actively attempting to eat him #actually it probably tried to eat kifaji first and that's when leona decided he liked it #me: this is just for funsies i'm not doing lore (writes a whole fanfic in the tags)

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kindnessoverperfection · 9 months

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Please, if you can, take a moment to read and share this because I feel like I'm screaming underwater.

NPD (Narcissistic Personality Disorder) stigma is rampant right now, and seems to be getting progressively worse. Everyone is using it as a buzzword in the worst ways possible, spreading misinformation and hatred against a real disorder.

I could go on a long time about how this happened, why it's factually incorrect (and what the disorder actually IS), why it's harmful, and the changes I'd like to see. But to keep this concise, I'll simply link to a few posts under the cut for further reading.

The point of this post is a plea. Please help stop the spread of stigma. Even in mental health communities, even around others with personality disorders, in neurodivergent "safe" spaces, other communities I thought people would be supportive in (e.g. trans support groups, progressive spaces in general), it keeps coming up. So I'm willing to bet that a lot of people on this site need to see this.

Because it's so hard to exist in this world.

My disorder already makes me feel as if I'm worthless and unlovable, like there's something inherently wrong and damaged about me. And it's so much harder to fight that and heal when my daily life consists of:

Laughing and spending time with my friends, doing my utmost best to connect and stay present and focused on them, trying to let my guards down and be real and believe I'm lovable- when suddenly they throw out the word "narcissist" to describe horrible people or someone they hate, or the conversation turns to how evil "people with narcissistic personality disorder" are. (Seriously, you don't know which of your friends might have NPD and feels like shit when you say those things & now knows that you'd hate them if you knew.)

Trying to look up "mental health positivity for people with npd", "mental health positivity cluster bs", only to find a) none of that, and b) more of the same old vile shit that makes me feel terrible about myself.

Having a hard time (which is constant at this point) and trying to look up resources for myself, only to again, find the same stigma. And no resources.

Not having any clue how to help myself, because even the mental health field is spitting so much vitriol at people with DISORDERS (who they're supposed to be helping!) that there's no solid research or therapy programs for people like me.

Losing close friends when they find out, despite us having had a good relationship before, and them KNOWING me and knowing that I'm not like the trending image of pwNPD. Because now they only see me through the lens of stigma and misinformation.

Hearing the same stigma come up literally wherever I go. Clubs. Meetings. Any online space. At the bus stop. At the mall. At a restaurant. At work. Buzzword of the year that everyone loooves loudly throwing around with their friends or over the phone. Feels awesome for me, makes my day so much better/s

I could go on for a long time, but I'm scared no one will read/rb this if it gets too much longer.

So please. Stop using the word "narcissist" as a synonym for "abusive".

Stop bringing up people you hate who you believe to have NPD because of a stigmatizing article full of misinformation whenever someone with actual NPD opens their mouth. (Imagine if people did that with any other disorder! "Hey, I'm autistic." "Oh... my old roommate screamed at me whenever I made noise around him, and didn't understand my needs, which seems like sensory overload and difficulty with social cues. He was definitely autistic. But as long as you're self-aware and always restraining your innate desire to be an abusive asshole, you're okay I guess, maybe." ...See how offensive and ignorant that is?)

Stop preventing healthcare for people with a disorder just because it's trendy to use us as a scapegoat.

If you got this far, thank you for reading, and please share this if you can. Further reading is under the cut.

NPD Criteria, re-written by someone who actually has NPD

Stigma in the DSM

Common perception of the DSM criteria vs how someone may actually experience them (Keep in mind that this is the way I personally experience these symptoms, and that presentation can vary a lot between individuals)

"Idk, the stigma is right though, because I've known a lot of people with NPD who are jerks, so I'm going to continue to support the blockage of treatment for this condition."

(All of these were written by me, because I didn't want to link to other folks' posts without permission, but if you want to add your own links in reblogs or replies please feel free <3)