mommynina

[mommynina]

ohh what about something like yandere immortal volo finding reader again in the modern day after they go back to their time 👀

I love the concept of immortal Volo. Ngl I missed the yandere part at first and almost went ham writing a long pinning ficlet of Volo suffering. I'm very glad I waited until after I slept to start writing lol.

Content warning Yandere, Volo is rich due to money investments and scams (he does the latter for fun), abduction, stalking-ish, obsessive thoughts, desperation, hate to love, Volo pov, Volo has dilusions about reader being Arceus' child, worshipping reader, Volo murders a man with a gun

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Volo always viewed himself as a deep thinker, in this modern Era he spent most of his time thinking and planning for something he would never have. Originally he had craved God hood, but after experiencing immortality for all it was he no longer craved it. No he craved You. You who had hundreds of years ago seared yourself into his soul and defeated him; he'd hated you for much longer than he would like to admit. But over the years the truth had come to him, you weren't Arceus' chosen no you were their child, the true next God. Of course the pokemon God would send their own most beloved child to him to guide him, and he realized far too late. He'd let you slip through his fingers and he'd yet to find you again, he had no doubt though he'd find you soon.

The faith he'd find you eventually fueled him in actually carving a life for himself. When he found you he had to be ready to provide for you, to shower you in anything and everything you could ever want or need to show he was worthy of you. It wasn't hard really to become a faceless billionaire, he had the time and the smarts. The hard part had been securing a home worthy of you and creating a room you would like until the time came when you both would share a room. As humbled by time as he had been Volo knew no other was worthy to be at your side, his beloved divine deserved only the most loyal and loving consort. He dare not call himself your husband with out your permission, he had to earn that.

He made sure everything was perfect for you, and yet you still had yet to reveal yourself to him. Part of Volo nagged at him that you would be just like your parent in that way, he had squander his chance to have you with his blind need to carve a better, perfect world. But the blond did his best to ignore that. You'd show yourself eventually, be it as you were or reborn he'd find you.

Idly he'd flip through the TV channels looking for a hint of you. He didn't expected today to be any different but once again he was proven wrong. A news story from the unova region News with your face filled his screen and he turned it up. Apparently you had resurfaced along side Ingo reuniting the twins he'd accidently torn apart. You had been champion of Unova yet this information had managed to evade him. Your status and now fame would make the next parts hard, but he'd manage he always did.

He debated retrieving you himself, the hospital you were being kept in didn't have the best security. Volo could easily slip in as a guest and slip out with you in his arms. But the risk of him being tracked down and loosing you was not worth the instant gratification of holding you. He wanted you forever not briefly. So he hired a man skilled in this kind of work.

When the hitman threw you at his feet Volo felt rage bubble inside him but kept his well practiced smile on. "A little rough with my guest aren't you?"

The hitman huffed as he glared down at you on the floor squirming, "They got bite, I better be getting double our original price for this shit."

Volo was pleased to see recognition in your eyes as you noticed him, "Volo?" You asked unsure and confused, your voice music to his very core.

"Yes my love? It's been so long hasn't it? I-"

He was cut off by the thug again, "Runion later payment now or I might slip the champion's location."

Rage flared even hotter in Volo, who was this idiot to threaten him and his divine, threaten their future and safety?! Before the hyped up henchman could do anything Volo moved; a gun swiftly pulled from a hidden holster and a bang rang out.

The aftermath was instant you were screaming in terror as the other man collapsed dead in an instant. He wasn't surprised sadly, you despite all your power always sought to protect life not end it; but he'd learned long ago sometimes death was necessary to ensure your goals.

He shushed you cupping your face in his hands, "Shhhh my angel it's okay. You're safe now I promise."

You never had a chance to fight back as he took you to your new room. The entire time Volo was telling you all his plans, how hard he worked to make this island perfect for you, and how with a spine chilling certainty you were never leaving him again.

[mommynina]

Requests are open, yay!! Since you do Pokemon SwSh, could I request a scenario for Leon with an s/o who actually managed to beat him and ended up as Champion?? Maybe that's the reason he got obsessed with her, bc s/o is the first person to beat him after so many years of him being the 'unbeatable champion'?

Yay! I really love this idea, thank you so much for requesting it ^-^ But for the sake of it, Leon didn’t win against a child in this.

»»————-———— ♡ ————————-««

Around him, the sound of firecrackers and shouting hit every inch of the arena. But where he stood, it was surprisingly quiet. As if in his own bubble, there was nothing to be heard at all, and his eyes had all their focus on her, across the grass, all the way over on the opponents stand.

Time ran a bit slower, now that he lost. Now that the adrenaline, the action wore off, everything seemed to come to a screeching halt. Everything, but her. From where he stood, he saw her bubble too. Only the two of them had the privilege of feeling like this, being allowed to not be rushed with the feelings of losing and winning. They could take their time.

She looked at him with the most angelic expression he had ever seen on her. It had been their fifth, maybe sixth match this arena season, and it had been his pleasure to see her grow through it. She was the only one that never gave up on the dream of beating him, even though she never became a gym leader or anyone of that importance. After her challenge years ago, she disappeared for a few years, before coming back, ready to try again, and so she did. She tried, and she tried and now... she beat him.

What she had done the last few years, he didn’t know. Who she had become even less. People, faces, they all passed him by, the longer he stood up to more and more opponents. She hadn’t been ‘special’ back then when she first started the arena challenge. But she was now.

Slowly, her mouth opened, mouthing, ‘Oh my god,’ as the realization started to trickle down her back. He could see her eyes catching tears in them, face contorting in a sob. This was it; this was what she had always wanted. And if Leon was truthful, it was what he had always wanted her to do too.

He wished he could have told her not to raise her arm, hide these teary, shining eyes from him behind it. Her face, pained with how happy she was, might have been his favorite sight of what she showed to him ever. Leon couldn’t help but wonder what kind of face he made, while the two just stood there, an arena erupting in screams and cheers around them, as a new era was born.

Behind her, he saw family, friends, supporters rushed onto the green, ready to celebrate their new champ. But at least for a little longer was he able to have his eyes on her and only her, as she slowly but surely sobbed into her hands. He, too, felt like crying, but for so many other reasons.

Leon felt free. Finally, after so many years, there was not only a stone rolling down his shoulders, but a whole mountain breaking off of him. She had freed him. This couldn’t have been unintentional. With how hard she tried to beat him, this could have only meant that she wanted to free him. Take all this pain and burdens from his shoulders so he could move on from the champ title he held for so long.

She was his savior.

It wasn’t long now that the other people would reach her. Claim her, put the crown on her head as it belonged there. Soon, all he went through would be what she would have to endure the next few years, and Leon almost felt... bad.

They’d feed her lies, and make her do things she wouldn’t even consider doing. She’d have to fight, train, work and sleep without ever taking a break from it. How would she handle this? Good? Bad? Worse than him? He was free now, while she was damned to their illusions of being a champion. How cruel this seemed, for a heart so pure as hers. How utterly destroying.

Only Leon knew what it was like to wait for an opponent to finally beat the champion and let them go of it. Only Leon could understand what she was going to go through now, and he couldn’t help but return the favor. There must be some way, he was sure, and he would find it.

But for now, he would take what he could. The sun didn’t seem to stop shining as her friends and family reached her, hugged her - things he wanted to do to her too. Finally, she looked up again, the widest, most genuine smile on her face he had ever seen, shining from side to side. It was that moment that Leon knew she was the sun herself. His sun.

And he couldn’t just let her get caged and dimmed down.

It was all on him.

Only he could save and return the favor to her.

And bowing his head, tugging in his cap, he already started to make plans in which the two could finally be free. Together.

[mommynina]

do we know each other?

[mommynina]

progression of events

[mommynina]

Would you guys still love me if I made minecraft fanart

[mommynina]

wanna see me do a 360? wanna see me do it again?

[mommynina]

wyd when your parkour opponent hits a 360

[mommynina]

A noob trying to make it pro

[mommynina]

grief

[mommynina]

I tried to be quick but I have no spooky ideas rn

[mommynina]

† noncon ; somnophilia / noncon, mentions of drugs, oral (f. and m. receiving)

the bed creaks softly under his slow movements, the mattress sinking under his weight as he approaches your pretty passed out form. he’s not worried ; it was pretty easy to spike your drink, you were too focused on the conversation before to notice. that had been your first mistake, but he couldn’t complain.

for a moment he just sits and stares, eyes trailing down the glimpses of naked skin and his pants are suddenly much too tight. he leans forward, fingers twitching ; itching to touch and grope. and so he does. his fingers find solace in cupping your tits through the skimpy dress you decided to wear that night, a soft moan leaving his lips at the feeling. much better than he’d imagined all those lonely times.

he shifts, to lie down next to you with a soft smile on his lips — how pretty you are. he could see your eyes twitching behind closed lids, were you dreaming? oh, he hoped you were dreaming of him, too. like he always dreamt of you. he can’t help himself when he leans in, your lips are too inviting to pass up on.

he’s careful at first, pushing his lips against yours before his tongue swipes over your bottom lip and he could taste the faint remnants of your cherry gloss. he moves again, ontop of you this time with a hand squishing your cheeks together and forcing your lips to part to receive his eager tongue. he can’t help but moan against your lips, his free hand leaving your breast in favor of trailing down your body — lower, and lower. teasing the hem of your dress and grabbing the fat of your thigh and spreading your legs with ease.

he liked you like this, so compliant and soft. he pulls back to settle between your thighs, eyes trained on the pretty red lace there. his hands tremble with excitement, so careful when he reaches out to peel the garment down your thighs and his breath hitches in his throat when he notices how it sticks to your already drenched pussy.

he’d told himself he would be slow, that he’d enjoy himself and take his time ; but you were too tempting. he almost topples over, bracing his palms against your thighs and his nose bumps into your clit, tongue flat against your cunt and he was salivating at the taste. the soft little whimpers and gasps that fell from your lips were like music to his ears. he reaches higher, tongue flicking against your clit while his fingers inch closer towards your cunt — mesmerized by how easy your wet heat swallowed his fingers, practically sucking them in and he moans into your pretty pussy.

his cock strains against his sweatpants but he couldn’t care less about himself at the moment, so engrossed in your sweet scent ; he swore he was getting high off it. would get lost in your taste and he doesn’t even know how long he’s spent between your thighs already when he finally lifts his head for a breather.

he swears his eyes almost fall out of his head when he sees your face. your eyebrows cinched together, lips slick with drool and so soft, so plush. he chokes on his own spit at the sight. there’s a moment of silence, only your soft breathing could be heard before he shuffles himself off the bed to stand next to it instead. his hands fall down to pull the strings of his sweatpants and free his cock.

his hand falls down, thumb and index finger grasping your chin and turning your head to face him instead. he thumbs at your bottom lip, pulling it down before he squishes your cheeks together once more. his free hand wraps around the base of his cock while he pushes against your pretty plush lips, smearing precum all over and he sucks in a sharp breath at the sight.

he still can’t believe how easy it all was, pushing his cock past your plump lips and he releases a breath he was holding ; hand slipping to the back of your head and curl his fingers into your soft locks to guide you further down his length. he could hear your breath stuttering, your throat protesting around his cock but he doesn’t care. he can’t hold back anymore.

his pace quickens, grunting and groaning ; hips stuttering and it’s almost embarrassing how quickly he finishes down your throat. how sad, he’d hoped he would’ve lasted a little longer, but he can’t complain with how soft your throat felt. his lips twitch up into a small smile when he pulls away and tucks his cock back into his pants. his thumb swipes over your bottom lip, collecting some of his spilled cum and smearing it over your lips.

there was cum on your face, a soiled wet patch on the mattress beneath your thighs — he couldn’t wait to see your face in the morning.

[mommynina]

tw: female reader, obsessive behavior, captivity, fantasy lore, abuse, murder mention, suggestive (?)

"You seem to be upset."

He's leaning against the window not too far away from you. Not too close as well - just far enough for you to feel at ease.

"Aren't you a mind - reader." You respond under your breath, trying to focus on the book you're currently reading - but the letters are escaping you, and you find yourself re-reading the same paragraph for the third time. He sighs, much like a disappointed father, before stepping towards you. And if you flinch just slightly, he doesn't pretend to notice or care.

"What is wrong, my flower?" The man gestures theatrically, soft velvet voice unbecoming of the monster he is flowing easily into the open air. You don't know what to say, really. It's been two years - or so you think, there is no way to keep track of time in this kingdom, not that time goes the same way in the elfen world as it does in the human, yet the part of you still capable of logical thought seems to think so. Two years, and there is very little you haven't already said. Very little left to be said, so your conversations are mostly rehearsed repetitions of what you already know. What you already fear - that you're going to die here. Or even worse. That you've become incapable of aging, so very consumed by this foreign land you detest that you've given up death for a life of boring, purposeless immortality.

"Don't I shower you with lavish gifts?" The noble moves closer, stalking towards you - observing you as if you're a butterfly pinned to a wooden frame under a microscope. "Don't I buy you the shiniest jewels? Not even the queen herself owns such sparkling emeralds." He scoffs, painfully used to your lack of response. You clear your throat, turning a new page - having little to recall about the last. It's completely meaningless just like all the other pages in all the other books you read. How funny, you think. In that distant, dreamy past of yours you were too busy to read - busy with work, busy with family, busy with friends. Busy with life. Now nothing gets in the way of your reading, you have all the time in the world - but there's no one to share the knowledge with. No one to spoil the ending. No time limits. No goal to it all, no final destination. So you read, and you soak the pages with salty tears not remembering a word.

"I am grateful for all the treasures you give me, my Lord." You answer nonchalantly, keeping your pointer at the end of the paper in a desperate attempt to find the sentence exactly where you left it off. You can feel him move closer to you - and the only indication of your growing fear are the shivers that travel down your spine with the beat of your violently full, thumping heart.

"Don't I provide you with all the entertainment your little human heart could possibly bear?" The duke clicks his long sharp nails together once against the other - an ugly metallic sound echoes deep into the ceiling reminiscent of a dying forest clow. "There has never been a lack of wine or music or dance in my court. I've gifted you more golden dresses than you can wear in this life. I've written you more poems than you can read." He keeps going, describing every little thing he's done for you, despite the fact that you've never asked for any of it.

"I admire your taste for indulgence, my Lord." You repeat almost automatically, the praises sitting on your tongue just waiting to be spilt from parted honey lips. Your eyes are glued to the book, but you've given up on reading long ago. Now you're simply trying not to cry - focusing your eyes at one word at a time and blinking repeatedly, manically, feeling as if the world with end the moment you let him see your weakness. You can't believe you still have so much pain in you - enough to feel loss and anger and, what's even worse, hope. Hope that one day you'll be free again.

"And tell me, flower—" His fist wraps around your low ponytail, forcing you to look up at him and meet his eyes for the first time tonight. What's staring back at you might as well be the bottom of the ocean itself, misty and dark, cold and unknown. Human eyes convey so much affection - so much care that you can never mistake it for anything else. With elves it's different - you can spend centuries looking for a hint of kindness, and you'll only get lost in those beatiful bottomless pits. Shiny and sparkling and completely empty. "Don't I give you love? Don't I embrace you tightly every night?" His voice lowers dangerously, barely above a whisper.

"I don't understand what more you could possibly want. Should I prove myself to you? Should I slay a dragon for you? Perhaps I could tie the heads of your enemies with a pretty bow and give them to you as a wedding gift, hmm?" He's babbling incoherently, nails digging into your scalp with unyealding grip. "Would that finally, finally make you happy, beloved?"

"No, no, please let go." You cry out in agony, wriggling out of his hold - but he's too strong, too massive to move. "I'm happy, I'm—" You sob pitifully, weakly pushing at his chest. "I'm happy with you. Please, you make me so happy, just please let go. And please don't hurt anyone."

He slowly pulls away, chest heaving in and out wildly. The scariest part is always his face. It remains unbothered - cold and defined like a statue of a god, his true feelings hidden by a mask of barely contained rage.

"You're happy with me?" He raises an eyebrow, foot stomping on the ground impatiently. You nod hesitantly, too shaken up to comprehend what you're even agreeing to. "Then prove it. Show me just how happy I make you." He grabs your wrist, pulling you face-first into his hard chest. "Do it, and I might reconsider my other more... inhumane methods of courtship." His lips twist into a cruel smirk. "And may the Gods help you."

As you sink to your knees you try to think of what book to read next - but no title comes to mind.

[mommynina]

Summary: You run into your snobby ex boyfriend after a drunken party. Things go south from there. tw: female reader, hinted murder, possessive behavior, condescension, financial(?) abuse, classism

You know this is a stupid, stupid idea. Going home at God knows what time in the pitch black is never a good idea, you think drowsily, head still spinning from the last beer, but even more so when you're tired, pissed off and tipsy. You're freezing, naked shoulders wet from the chilly midnight rain - but instead of soft damp linden, you smell molden concrete and metal. You fucking hate this city. You hate the stupid, flashy, obnoxious parties for rich people, and this shitty university in the middle of nowhere, and even the scholarship that forced you into close proximity with the freakish upper class of east New Hemptison.

"Baby!" A familiar voice sinks into the muddy darkness and you have to physically restrain yourself from emptying your stomach right there on the street - and knowing your neighbours, you'd have to clean it after too. His steps fasten and soon you feel his hand gripping your shoulder to turn you around. Standing before you, glistening just like some prince from a fairy tale, is everything you despise about this town. The fact that he's perfectly prim and proper despite the pounding rain, that his teeth seem almost pearly white in the dark, that his hair is crisp and slicked away tastefully, that even now he's wearing a fucking Armani shirt with the cheesiest pair of jeans (ones you could never afford) - it makes you want to crawl back to the cave you came from, two continents away, and never look back.

"Baby, where have you been?" He sounds terribly concerned as he pulls your shivering body in for a tight bear hug, running his hands through your absolutely soaked hair - murmuring something incomprehensible to your drunken mind. "I was worried sick, missy." His voice drops slightly, but it's all for show. He's playing the part of the good boyfriend, like always - and you fell for it once, you did, but you know better now. "I called you, like, sixty eight times. And nothing." He swallows, big hands trembling around you. "Just radio silence. I thought something bad happened to y-"

"Oh, f-uucking beat it." Your patience finally snaps and you push him off swiftly, barely contained anger starting to resurface again. Today was supposed to be about you, about healing, about feeling better, but just your luck - the very problem had found you, just like always. No matter where you go, your troubles follow. "You know what you did, asshole. Don't you d-aare play innocent with m-me." You hiss drunkenly, stumbling all over your words before hitting the wall all on your own. Mathew, of course, doesn't waste the oppurtunity to get closer to you - just so he can help you regain your balance, of course. The golden boy of Saint Hemptison would never take advantage of an intoxicated girl - much less his ex girlfriend who he's still hopelessly in love with, supposedly. Right.

"Baby, please, you're drunk - you're not making any sense." The man whispers softly, placing his hand at your hip. "Let's go to the penthouse. We can talk about this in the morning when you are more aware of your thoughts."

When you're more aware of your thoughts? You almost laugh. It's quite bittersweet when it hits you that he doesn't respect you even now - maybe he never has in the duration of your miserable relationshop, that in his eyes you'll always be the poor girl in need of a white knight. Just a little trophy to show off, if a bit broken in certain spots.

"I am not going anywhere with you." You mumble, trying to calm down - to appear cold and collected, the complete opposite of what he wants you to be. "Look, I know that you're mad at me, babygirl, but I'm sure your little temper tantrum can wait until tomorrow. You know I don't like this neighbourhood. Let me take you to a safe place for the night, okay?" He reaches for your hand again, but this time you swat it away in fury.

"Who are you to act so worried about me, huh?" You can hear your voice breaking as the tears prick at your eyes - hot and shameful. Crying in front of him is the last thing you want to do, but god, it's so hard not to when this whole night has been a disaster after a disaster. You're truly at your wits' end. "After what you did? You are truly shameless." You squeal, and admittedly, it feels fucking great to finally say it.

Your former lover's face twists into an unrecognizable grimace as he watches you tear into his heart with ease - and as you turn to leave, he grabs your wrist painfully. This time something is different about his eyes - they're not longer smiling. Now they're two bottomless gray pits devoid of kindness, the same eyes you saw the night of the accident as he caressed your cold cheek with bloody knuckles.

"And what did I do, love? Hm?" He tilts your chin up by squeezing your throat, forcing you to meet his eerie gaze. Suddenly all your tipsy bravado evaporates into thin air. "Please, refresh my memory. I really can't recall the events of the past two weeks - since you've been avoiding me and all..." His fingers dig into your skin and you wince just like a kicked puppy - but he doesn't bulge an inch. Suddenly everything comes flooding back - the touches you convinced yourself were sensual, not possesive, the glances you once thought of as romantic, the constant interrogations, the strange emails, the cryptic calls, the dead roses at your door. "I couldn't sleep - or eat for that matter. I am half a man without you. I lose myself completely."

It all makes sense now. You feel like crying, because it's so crystal clear... and you've been a willing fool. You had closed your eyes, because it was easier to lie than to accept the truth bubbling just under his surface - under the dimples and the smiles, and the hundred jewelry boxes still lying unopened under your bed.

"You - you killed him! You monster!" You gasp, unable to stop your lips from uttering the lethal. You thrash around to no avail, you're stuck. "How could you? Jack was your friend!" You hide your face in the crook of his neck to stop the sobs, too scared to look at the crazed man holding you. He simply rolls his eyes, letting you soak his shirt with your pretty tears. "Don't be so dramatic - it's just some broken bones. He'll be fine... as long as he stays away from my things."

You raise your head shakily - you're drowning between hatred, fear and misery. The adrenaline is making you even more disoriented than the liquor percentage in your bloodstream.

"I am not a fucking thing for you to-" You hiccup, growing woozy as you hit weakly against his chest. The corners of his lips curl up slightly as he chuckles at the pitiful display. "For you to just own!" You keep going, cheeks purple from pent up fury - there's something tearing at your insides like you want to scream, you need it to come out, but you find yourself unable to push it off your flesh like it's been ingrained with glue and a shovel.

"You're wrong, baby. I do own you." Mathew says with the sweetest, softest voice you've heard in your life, sugary and bitter like poisonous honey. "Let's say you want to break up-"

"We already broke u-"

His eyes pierce you mid-sentence. You quickly close your mouth.

"Let's say," He repeats through gritted teeth, holding you so tightly you might just merge into one being. "That you want to break up with me." He inhales deeply, nostrils flaring. "Hypothetically. Then what? You have no place to live. I know you're staying at that shithole of a hotel down the street right now - it's filthier than a brothel, no?"

You want to say something - to argue, to scream. To tell him that he's being a rich, condescending asshole again, that you like the hotel - despite the mold and the cockroaches and the way there never seems to be hot water. Despite having to lock your door four times so you don't get assaulted in your sleep.

You say nothing.

"You don't have to confirm it. My agent tracked you down a week ago. Whatever - you'll run out of money in, approximately, 9 days." He smirks maliciously, with unhidden spite - just like a little devil. "Then what? You don't even have an address. And you know the city hall will take their sweet fucking time to help you register - if they don't make you pay a fine first." He strokes your chin cruelly. "We both know just how much they care about clueless little foreigners with less than a penny to their name." He whispers, twisting the dagger in. "Hell, they may even cut your scholarship. And. then. what." Your ex pronounces each word slowly - making sure you can understand it, feel it - fear it.

You imagine your family back at home. You can hear their voices over the phone, your mom smiling as you tell her about your day, your father asking you what you plan to do after college - whether you will still remember them, whether you'd take care of them once they have nothing left, since you took everything with you. The money, the hopes, the happiness...

"F-fuck you..." You whimper faintly, falling against him. You feel defeated, and the sharp words are all you have left. "Why are you doing this to me?" You mumble to yourself, suddenly feeling drained to the very bone. The man begins stroking your hair as he rocks you gently to the side. "Because I love you." He slowly kisses down your neck. "Because I'm the only one in this city who gives a fuck about you, and-" You can feel his smile against your burning cheek. "Because you're mine."

[mommynina]

dick so good you can't make eye contact with him the next day without getting flustered

[mommynina]

his sad eyes and fat cock have captivated me

[mommynina]

his sad eyes and fat cock have captivated me

[mommynina]

this shi is so funny bro its minecraft sasunaru