#Volo: *shrugs*

[reikaniichan]

random thing. details on affogato cookie might be off since he’s mostly from memory (especially his staff)

[loki-ioki]

finding terapagos was easier than they thought

[strawberrygiorno]

tbh i felt it was fitting for gortash to be kind of pathetic once you take out his defenses but orin's fight was so disappointing

[moonselune]

The game never really elaborated other than giving you the “everyone disapproves” messages when you let Volo pluck your eye from your skull on accident. How do you think the romanced companions would react to Tav with their new Ersatz eye?

ooo it was fun writing for those who weren't actually part of the camp by then, good request !

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

Karlach:

You sat by the campfire, the flickering flames casting long shadows across your face. You felt the weight of your new ersatz eye, a strange and unsettling sensation that you were still getting used to. The camp had fallen silent, the rest of your companions busy with their own thoughts and tasks. Karlach, however, had been watching you closely ever since you had returned with the new eye.

She finally broke the silence, her deep voice carrying a hint of amusement.

"So, tell me, love—what possessed you to let Volo pluck out your eye and replace it with… that?" She gestured to your new, artificial eye with a wry smile.

You shrugged, trying to find the right words. "It seemed like a good idea at the time! Plus, it has its advantages. I can see things now that I couldn’t before."

Karlach chuckled, shaking her head. "Well, that was a bit silly, wasn't it?" She reached out, her hand warm and comforting as she cupped your cheek, her thumb brushing against the edge of your new eye. "But I have to admit, it gives you a certain… unique charm."

You smiled, leaning into her touch. "You think so?"

"Absolutely," she said, her eyes sparkling with affection. "It’s very you—bold, a little reckless, and definitely one-of-a-kind." She leaned in closer, her breath warm against your skin. "And if it helps you in battle, then it’s worth it. Just promise me you won’t let anyone else convince you to do something quite so drastic again, okay?"

You nodded, feeling a rush of warmth in your chest. "I promise."

Karlach’s smile widened, and she pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead. "Good. Now, in your words, let's go find some evil for you to smack"

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

Minthara:

The air was tense as you approached Minthara, the stern drow warrior assessing you with her piercing gaze. You could feel her eyes on you, scrutinizing every detail of your altered appearance. When you finally stood before her, she reached out and grabbed your face with a firm, but not unkind, grip, turning your head this way and that to examine your new eye.

"You fool," she hissed, her voice low and filled with a mixture of anger and concern. "Why would you let that imbecile Volo mutilate you like this? I will miss your eye."

You took a deep breath, trying to keep your voice steady. "This eye allows me to see people who have turned themselves invisible. It gives us an advantage in battle."

Minthara’s eyes narrowed, and for a moment, you feared she would remain angry. But then, slowly, a smile spread across her face, transforming her stern expression into one of approval. "Is that so?"

You nodded, relief flooding through you. "Yes. It may look strange, but it’s useful."

Minthara’s grip on your face softened, and she let her hand slide down to rest on your shoulder.

"You always surprise me," she said, her voice tinged with admiration. "Your willingness to sacrifice for the sake of our mission is commendable. I suppose I can forgive you for this… folly."

You couldn’t help but smile at her words. You weren't going to dare correct her that you had done it as a last ditch effort to get the parasite out. "Thank you, Minthara."

She leaned in, her lips brushing against your ear as she whispered, "Just don’t make a habit of letting fools experiment on you. I need you whole and capable, not a collection of curiosities."

You chuckled softly, feeling the tension between you dissolve as she kissed your cheek. "I’ll keep that in mind."

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

Lae'zel:

The firelight danced across Lae'zel's face as she stared at you with a mixture of irritation and fascination. Her yellow eyes narrowed as she took in the sight of your new ersatz eye, her lips pressed into a thin line.

"You fool," she snapped, her voice tinged with frustration. "You let that bumbling idiot Volo pluck out your eye? Your own eye, the most reliable asset in battle? When we are already on our way to the creche!"

You winced, her words stinging despite the underlying concern you could sense. "It wasn’t exactly planned, Lae'zel. But this new eye… it has its advantages. I can see things now that I couldn't before."

Lae'zel crossed her arms, her expression still stern. "Your own eyes were more than capable. But if this ersatz eye gives you an edge, then I suppose it is not entirely worthless."

She stepped closer, her fingers brushing against your cheek as she inspected the new eye. Her touch was surprisingly gentle, her irritation melting into something softer. "It is strange, but… there is a certain appeal to it."

You raised an eyebrow, a small smile playing at your lips. "You find it sexy?"

Lae'zel huffed, a faint blush coloring her cheeks. "Do not misunderstand, it does not make you less of a fool. But yes, it has a certain… allure. Just do not let this happen again."

You nodded, relieved and somewhat amused by her reaction. "I’ll be more careful next time, I promise."

She leaned in, her lips brushing against yours in a brief, fierce kiss. "Good. Now, let us see how well you can fight with your new eye."

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

Shadowheart:

You found Shadowheart by the edge of the camp, her eyes reflecting in the sun as she turned to face you. Taking a deep breath, you revealed your new ersatz eye, waiting for her reaction.

She stared at you for a moment, her eyes widening in shock before narrowing in annoyance. Without warning, she lightly whacked you on the arm. "What were you thinking? Letting Volo pluck out your eye like that? That was incredibly stupid."

You rubbed your arm, feeling a mix of embarrassment and regret. "I didn’t mean for it to happen. But it does have some advantages, Shadowheart. I can see things now that I couldn’t before."

She sighed, her expression softening slightly. "I can’t heal your eye. You’re stuck with that ersatz one now. You should have come to me first."

You pouted, feeling the need for some sympathy. You draped yourself over her, resting your head on her shoulder. "Shadowheart, I didn’t mean to be reckless. Can I at least get some sympathy?"

She laughed, her annoyance melting into amusement. Pushing you off gently, she shook her head. "You’re impossible."

You continued to pout and whine, giving her your best puppy-dog eyes. Finally, she relented, pulling you into a hug. "Alright, alright. You look… pretty. Stupid, but pretty."

You smiled, feeling a rush of warmth at her words. "Thank you, my love"

She kissed you softly, her hands cupping your face. "Just promise me you won’t let anyone else experiment on you. I need you whole and safe."

"I promise," you murmured, holding her close. "I’ll be more careful from now on."

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

Jaheira:

The moment you revealed your new ersatz eye to Jaheira, her expression froze. Her eyes widened in shock, and she raised a hand as if to stop you from saying anything.

"Don't speak," she said sharply, pinching the bridge of her nose. You could see the internal struggle playing out across her face as she tried to collect herself. She closed her eyes, taking a deep breath, clearly fighting to maintain her composure.

For a few long moments, the only sound was the crackling of the campfire. Then, her eyes snapped open, and despite her earlier efforts, she couldn’t hold back any longer.

"What were you thinking?" she yelled, her voice a mix of anger and worry. "Letting Volo of all people pluck out your eye? Do you have any idea how reckless and foolish that was?"

You opened your mouth to respond, but she cut you off, her words coming out in a rush.

"You could have been blinded permanently! What if something had gone wrong? What if he had lobotomised you - although that may have improved that brain of yours!"

You stood there, feeling a mixture of guilt and helplessness. "I… I thought it might work, that it might get rid of the parasite. It gives me the ability to see things I couldn’t before."

Jaheira took another deep breath, her anger slowly subsiding into a weary resignation. She stepped closer, placing a hand on your cheek, her thumb brushing against it. "Just… promise me you won't do anything like that again without talking to me first."

You nodded, feeling the weight of her concern. "I promise, beloved. I’ll be more careful."

She sighed, pulling you into a tight embrace. "Good. I don’t want to lose you. You're too important to me."

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

Gale:

When you showed Gale your new ersatz eye, his reaction was immediate. His brows furrowed, and his mouth dropped open in disbelief.

"You let Volo pluck out your eye?" he asked, incredulous. "Are you out of your mind?"

You shifted uncomfortably, feeling the weight of his disapproval. "I didn't mean to let him pluck it out, it just... happened, when he was trying to get rid of the parasite. But! It gives me the ability to see things I couldn’t before."

Gale shook his head, launching into a rant. "Volo is a charlatan, a storyteller with a penchant for the dramatic. Trusting him with something as delicate and vital as your eye is beyond foolish. And to think he could remove the parasite?! What if it had gone wrong and you were left with no vision at all?"

As he continued, his voice growing more animated, he inadvertently let something slip, "And yet, despite the madness of it all, I have to admit, it’s… it's incredibly attractive in a strange, reckless sort of way."

You blinked, taken aback by his confession. A smile crept onto your face as you saw the realization dawn on his.

"Gale," you said softly, stepping closer, batting your eyelashes at him "you think my new eye is attractive?"

He stammered, momentarily thrown off his rant. "Well, I mean… it's not the point. You were still a fool to trust Volo, but… yes, there’s a certain allure to it."

You leaned in, silencing him with a kiss. His initial surprise melted into a deep, passionate response as he pulled you closer. When you finally pulled back, you whispered against his lips, "Thank you for caring, Gale. And for finding me attractive, even when I do foolish things."

He chuckled softly, resting his forehead against yours. "Just promise me, no more reckless decisions without consulting me first. I can't bear the thought of losing you."

"I promise," you replied, your heart swelling with affection. "I’ll be more careful from now on."

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

Astarion:

As you approached Astarion with your new ersatz eye, the night air seemed to still. He had stayed at camp whilst you and the others were exploring the grove, it had given you time to prepare for this moment. He was lounging casually, a goblet of blood (where it was sourced you did not want to know) in hand, when you revealed your altered appearance. His reaction was immediate and dramatic, his eyes widening in horror and surprise.

"By the gods, what have you done?!" Astarion yelped, his voice a mix of shock and disbelief. It was as if he had seen a ghost or been caught in a sudden, terrifying twist of fate. His reaction was so pronounced that you couldn’t help but feel a pang of annoyance.

You crossed your arms, frowning as you looked at him. "Astarion, really? I didn’t think it would be that shocking."

He flinched, his grip tightening around his goblet. "I—I'm sorry. I just wasn’t expecting it. You startled me, dear."

You started to turn away, feeling a mix of frustration and embarrassment. But Astarion quickly moved to stop you, placing a gentle hand on your arm. "Please, don’t go. I truly apologize for my reaction. I just… didn’t know how to handle it at first."

You looked at him, seeing the genuine remorse in his eyes. "It’s alright, Astarion. I suppose it was a bit sudden."

He sighed, pulling you into a tender embrace. "I should have been more composed. I’m just… well, shocked, darling. It is not everyday your dearest appears with a brand new eye. I apologise a thousand times over."

You softened at his touch, resting your head against his shoulder. "I’m not angry. Just a little embarrassed. But thank you for apologizing."

Astarion nuzzled into your neck, his voice warm against your skin. "I promise I’ll adjust. Your new eye is… striking. And it suits you, even if it did give me a fright."

You chuckled softly, feeling reassured by his embrace. "I’m glad you think so. It’s a bit different, but it has its uses."

"Well I simply cannot wait to see you put it to work my darling." Astarion smiled, pressing a kiss to your cheek, he was still in the doghouse but this was a promising start.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

Wyll:

When you revealed your new ersatz eye to Wyll, his reaction was immediate. His eyes widened in shock, and he let out a low whistle.

“By the gods, you actually let Volo pluck out your eye?” His voice was a mix of disbelief and concern.

You hesitated, feeling a bit awkward under his gaze. “Well not exactly, but let's not focus on that right now. The eye lets me see things I couldn't before.”

"We will get back to that later." Wyll shook his head at you, a bemused expression on his face. He tilted his face as he took you in. “Foolish, but then again, I suppose I can’t say much. After all, I’ve done my fair share of reckless things.”

He managed a half-smile, stepping closer and placing a comforting hand on your shoulder.

“Welcome to the one-eye club,” he said, his tone softening. “You’re now part of a very exclusive group.”

You blinked, a bit surprised but touched by his attempt at lightening the mood. “I am honoured, you have my eternal thanks, my love.”

Wyll’s smile widened, and he pulled you into a gentle embrace. “You’re still my beloved, no matter how many eyes you have or don’t have. Just… try to avoid letting anyone else poke at your eye, alright?”

You chuckled softly, feeling a mix of relief and affection and you melted into his embrace. “I’ll keep that in mind, Wyll.”

"Good, now it looks like I have some competition for the prettiest member of the one-eyed club." Wyll murmurs, and you laugh, pulling away. Wyll kisses your forehead and smiles to you, "Fierce competition indeed."

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

Halsin:

When you revealed your new ersatz eye to Halsin, his reaction was immediate and deeply telling. His usually calm demeanor was replaced with a mixture of disappointment and concern. He drew in a sharp breath and let out a low, disapproving sigh. As he examined your altered appearance, his brow furrowed and he shook his head in disbelief, tsking softly under his breath.

"You let Volo perform such a risky procedure? Why would you trust someone like him with something so delicate?" Halsin’s voice was a mix of disbelief and frustration. His eyes were fixed on the artificial eye, assessing its placement and function with a critical eye.

Feeling a pang of guilt and embarrassment, you pouted, your shoulders drooping slightly as if you were a child being reprimanded. You reached out tentatively, wrapping your arms around Halsin in a heartfelt hug, hoping to mitigate the disappointment in his gaze.

"Please don’t be mad at me," you murmured against his chest, your voice muffled. "I thought it was a good idea at the time. I really didn’t think it would cause this much trouble."

Halsin’s expression softened, though his concern was still evident. He gently placed a hand on your back, the touch warm and reassuring.

"I’m not angry with you, my love," he said, his voice calm but firm. "I just wish you wouldn’t let hacks like Volo have their way with you. It’s not only reckless but downright dangerous. I care deeply about your well-being."

You tightened your embrace, nuzzling into his chest as if trying to seek comfort and solace. "I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to cause any trouble. I’ll try to be more careful next time," you said, your voice earnest and apologetic.

Halsin’s posture relaxed as he allowed himself a soft chuckle. He wrapped his arms around you more securely, drawing you into a protective embrace.

"I’m not truly mad, just worried," he admitted, his tone warm and gentle. "I don’t want to see you put yourself at risk. You’re far too important to me for that."

You looked up at him, your eyes reflecting a mixture of relief and affection. A small, hopeful smile tugged at your lips. "Thank you for understanding," you said, your voice filled with gratitude.

Halsin smiled back, his eyes softening as he leaned down to press a tender kiss to your forehead.

"Always," he murmured, his voice filled with sincerity. "Just promise me you’ll be more cautious in the future. I care too much about you to see you hurt, especially when it’s avoidable."

You nodded, feeling reassured by his comforting words and the warmth of his embrace. "I promise, Halsin," you said, your voice steady and sincere.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

Hope you guys enjoyed it ! - Seluney xoxo

Keep this moonmaiden caffeinated x

[leggerefiore]

haii!! for spooky reqs, how about giratina!volo chasing his s/o in distortion world,, yandere type beat,, s/o tryna escape but volo is so much more powerful and always aware where s/o is at any given time so he just sees this as a "game"

cw: yandere, giratina Volo, unhealthy relationships, dark content

pairing: Volo/Reader

The eeriness of the Distortion World was something that simply could not be misunderstood.

From the moment one stepped foot into the world parallel to the normal, sane one, it felt like passing through a thin layer of membrane like that just beneath the shell of an egg. Then, after pressing through, one goes breathless. There is nothing yet followed by everything.

The endless pulsating of violet void and the harsh, rocky terrain that floated around the space at all manner of angles, how the plants grew upward no matter said angle, and the waterfalls and pools beneath them… Everything was not as comprehensive and logical as the world one knew previous. The air was stagnant and stale, yet odourless somehow. Sound felt as if echoed forever, on and on, until nothing but a heavy silence weighed upon the impossible lands.

And… it swam around this world as its horrid core.

The ominous glow of crimson eyes and bathed in shadow…

Its humanoid form was arguably pleasant, however. Yet, still eerie with the black wings that spread like tendrils from his back and the golden metal-like protrusions guarded his neck and face. His hair, just as golden as the potrusions and a beautiful face, were more distracting. Something dark burned his eyes, however.

You foolishly pitied him. A being cursed to an existence of loneliness and exile in such a labyrinthine world. His story was sad. Desperate for his creator's attention but rejected and then acting out like a child would for it. You only stroked his hair as he laid his head in your lap and recounted it all.

It should have been a clue to his true nature.

He was possessive.

Horribly so.

Whenever you left his dimension, he was visibly unhappy about it. Volo tried to tell you that the normal world was not safe and that he worried about you too much when you were away, but you somehow always managed to shrug off his concerns and leave the Distortion World for a while. No matter the length of the period you spent away, he always seemed irritated and desperate when you returned.

The short while after was spent in a nearly suffocating embrace while floating through the seemingly endless space of the Distortion World.

Another warning of what was to come.

Your chances to leave the odd dimension grew less and less as Volo seemed to shift into something more needy and demanding. He refused to acknowledge your questions and demands for the portal, simply saying that he was too exhausted or busy to make one. You would be fine, he would reassure you. Time did not pass in this world as it did your own, much like how space functioned so strangely as well.

You foolishly accepted it.

After all, you had become his “mate” at that point.

He was just worried about losing his lover and only companion… You convinced yourself that. Volo would get over his strange feelings and let you go free. He just needed to adjust. His tender moments of just holding you to him or speaking with you endlessly about his interests made you feel conflicted. You wanted to believe everything would normalise eventually.

Until, you could not.

It was difficult, fleeing through the non-euclidean architecture of the Distortion World. Your breaths felt more difficult to take in thanks to the oddity of the world. Running was strange, as the force felt all the more consuming to move, but you did not dare stop. An exit had to be somewhere. There had to be one. You refused to accept that there was not.

Volo was lurking somewhere around, you knew.

He had snapped when you demanded an exit and claimed that time apart would be helpful. The pleasant, amicable smile with soft, crimson eyes were gone. Shrunken pupils and a sinister grin replaced them. He towered over you, a height greater than that of normal humans. “... No, I won't let you go,” the Renegade pokemon had said, “You are lucky, you know? To be around a being such as myself. Most humans don't leave my realm with their life.”

Those words finally spurred you into fleeing from him.

What you were unaware of was the fact that this entire world was almost nearly an extension of Giratina's form. No matter where you went, Volo simply would know. He had known the second you stepped foot in here, and he would know every single step you took.

Volo thought it was a nice change up, however. There had been little time to spy upon humans and their realm while still planning his revenge on Arceus with you there. Were you not just so lucky to obtain the affection of him? The blond truly loved you. So desperate to make him happy and be his company during his forced isolation… Too sweet, too foolish. The human world was filled with cruel people. They would destroy you and take you from him.

He floated along casually, fully aware of the plants you were trying to hide within. Did you know how dragons became about their mates, he wondered. Did you even know that he was a dragon, alongside being something akin to a ghost? Ah, probably not. If only you had listened more carefully to his ramblings about mythology, then you would have been fully aware.

You held your breath when he stepped near the plants. How cute. A snicker came from him as he pulled you out. A cry left you as the legendary pressed you to his body. Adrenaline coursed through your veins desperately as you struggled against the grip of Volo. “My, I gave you plenty of warnings and chances to never return,” his head shook with mock pity on his face, “Did you listen? No. You must truly care for me, then.”

His cold hand came to hold your chin. The shiny golden horns on his head broke apart from the colour of his hair. “I love you, too, of course,” he reassured you, “Truthfully, I can't even say I would not have hunted you down had you not returned.” His tendril-like wings came to curl around you, locking you further in his grip. “Give up,” he hissed unexpectedly, “Just stay here. You cannot ever hope to escape without my help, and I will not ever let you go.”

His lips pressed against yours before you had a moment to argue back with him.

Your stomach twisted as you felt the sincerity in his final words.

Giratina was the god of this realm.

This entire dimension was its own to do as it pleased.

You were an unfortunate denizen of this world now.

Your eyes were bleary as Volo pulled away from the kiss. His gaze back to its normal state. “Worship me,” he ordered.

This request was what would completely seal your fate to be with the Renegade pokemon for the rest of time.

[volos-togepi]

Intentions - Volo x reader

“heyyyy i loved ur last fic!! do you think you’d be willing to write another? i thought this sounded like a fun idea: a volo x reader fic where the reader is just as secretly unhinged and resentful as him and have the same goal. they think they’re manipulating each other into what they want, but then they realize that they’re both after the same thing and escalate their friendship into something more? 🤭 thanksss <3” - anon

i FINALLY got this one finished!!! it only took me a month and a half :')

i hope you enjoy! <3 (also thank youuuuuu!!!!! <333)

y/n - your name 2k+ words (2,076) friends ⟶ lovers

Plates.

Plates are what you’re after.

You’ve been searching and searching, seeking them out to meet with a higher being: Arceus. You’ve devoted so much of your time and efforts into studying the Almighty Sinnoh. Laying low is so hard to do. But, despite how much you want to express your true feelings toward this land you call ‘home’, it’s better you didn’t.

You’ve been watching Volo and the new recruit from afar; watching them both gather the plates you’ve been longing to find. You sigh in frustration. 

They were supposed to be yours.

Once you return to the village, you run into Volo. It seems he’s stocking up on wares to ‘sell’. You already knew he had the lowest numbers in the Ginkgo Guild. It’s not that hard to overhear, especially where you like to sit on Kamado’s balcony to do your work. 

“Seems like someone’s heading back out.”

He turns to you with a rather shocked expression. “Y/n! You startled me.” Quickly gathering himself, he calms down and and smiles. “How did you know I’m heading back out?”

“Well,” you begin, tilting your head. “firstly, you’re stocking up on more wares. Perhaps to sell, or… to use for yourself.” 

You see his cheeks flush slightly. “How do yo—”

“Second, your trousers are already splattered with fresh mud, most likely from the Mirelands. Nowhere else has dirt so… red.” You pause. “What were you going to say? I’m sorry for interrupting.”

He purses his lips. You can tell he’s trying to read you. “Nothing… we’ll pretend it didn’t come up.”

“Mhmm…” 

Silence takes over. It’s not like either of you to stay this way for very long, as you both like to carry on lengthy conversations on the interesting facts of the region. Volo finishes stocking his bag and throws it back on, grunting as the weight of it almost pulls him to the ground. “Well, I’m off to… sell.”

“Before you go—”

His eyes widen, eager to hear what you have to say. Any information to him is important, and you know that oh so well.

“Would you mind telling me why you were the one chosen to help the new Survey Corps recruit over me?” 

He’s taken aback by your question, almost offended that you had asked. “You know how well versed I am in these studies, y/n. You wouldn’t understa—”

“I wouldn’t understand?” Your eyes grow angry. “Do you know how long I’ve been studying each and every ruin and artifact I’ve found in the Hisui region? How much time and effort I’ve put in to piecing together this stupid binder for Cyllene, just so I can spend more time out in the open air? I wouldn’t understand?”

“I didn’t mean to—”

“What I don’t understand is why they let an outsider take the lead on this one.”

You’ve offended him.

Oh, how you’ve offended him.

“Excuse me?!” he shouts. 

You glare at him, lowering your voice. “You heard me, Volo.”

—————

It’s been a few weeks since your argument. Volo’s been trying to apologize since the day after is happened, but you don’t want to hear it. 

“Y/n, please! Do you think I want to help Akari on my own?”

“Who?”

“The new recruit…”

You shrug.  “I never bothered to learn her name.”

Volo lets out a hearty laugh. You’ve never seen him so genuine; so true, even in your past conversations. “That was good.” he responds. “I wish I could say the same.”

You both joke around for a while. It’s nice to have a friend back on your side. 

“Hey…” You break the silence, a more serious tone taking over. “What if I… help you? You know, with finding plates?”

A coy smile spreads across Volo’s face. “I love that idea.”

—————

“For safe keeping. You both travel quite a bit, and I would hate for either of you to lose them.”

Weeks have passed. You’d convinced Volo and ‘whatever their name is’ to let you keep the plates in your possession. Volo was a bit apprehensive at first, but the girl seemed to trust you. “I think it’s a good idea, Volo. Y/n does have a point: we do travel a lot.”

“Fine.”

More days pass. You have all but one. You cannot believe how easy it was to just… take them. You smile as you sit on the bank side of Lake verity, taking in the fresh air around you. You feel a hand touch your shoulder. Startled, you look up to see Volo.

“What are you doing here, y/n?” He sits down next to you, setting his bag to the side.

You shrug. “I needed some air, and Lake Verity is so pretty this time of year.”

He nodded in agreement. “And the plates? Are they safe?”

“Of course! Do you think I’d let them out of my sight?”

He smiles, looking to the water glistening in the sunlight. “Good.”

You sigh. “Hey, this may sound strange, but…” You take a deep breath. “Do you ever feel that… the girl is… getting in the way.”

His eyes light up, and even though he’s not looking at you, you can tell he’s interested in what you have to say. 

“I mean, she wouldn’t even know where to look if it weren’t for you. And, if I’m being honest, you know more about these plates than she does.”

“She’s gotta get home somehow.”

You shrug. “All I’m saying is that you deserve this more than her. We deserve this more than her.”

You watch as Volo’s lips curl into this small, almost unnoticeable smile. “You know,” he says, looking out at the water, “I was wondering when you’d come around.” He turns to you, the smile on his face growing bigger. “I mean, it was only a matter of time.”

“I’m not quite sure what you’re getting at.” you reply. “I was only trying to ma— wait… you’re not doing this for the sake of helping are you?”

He laughs.

Oh how he laughs.

It’s a beautiful sound; a melody. Tears start to roll down his cheeks from the laughter. “Oh, y/n!” he chokes out. “I never have been!”

You start to giggle. 

“I was only trying to get you on my side.” he continues. “I figured it would be—”

“Volo,” You interrupt. “Why do you think I asked to keep the plates?”

He stares at you, unsure of what to say. His eyes are wide, and he seems surprised that you, you, would be trying to sabotage not only the girl, but the entire Survey Corp? “Y/n…” His voice is soft; hushed. “I never thought that you—”

“That I’d want to turn my back on the people of Jubilife? Because I’m not.”

He’s silent.

“I’ve always had this intention. It just took me years of acquiring the knowledge and the connections to feel comfortable enough to go for it…” You pause, watching a Magikarp leap out of the water. “Besides… the girl makes it easier.”

Volo gently slides his hand over yours. You don’t think anything of it. 

You’re friends.

“Meet me in the Highlands tonight.” he says. “There’s something I need to say.”

—————

The Coronet Highlands were so pretty at night. You lay on your back in the patch of flowers at Fabled Spring, looking at the billions of stars just above you in the sky. Volo arrives not too long after you, setting his bag against one of the trees. For once, he’s not in his uniform, wearing a dark green kimono and matching trousers. “I thought I’d dress little casual this evening.” He sits down next to you, pulling something out of his pocket to hand to you. “I thought you may like this.”

You sit up and carefully take what he’s holding. “A comet shard!” you squeak. “How did you—”

“I found it in the Mirelands; the day you caught me with mud-stained pants.” He bit his lip, looking to the ground. “The day of our little spat.” 

You’re silent.

“I’d been wanting to give it to you for so long, and…” He looks at you, eyes filled with starlight. “I just didn’t know how.”

“Volo, I…” You exhale. “Thank you.”

He shakes his head. “No need to thank me, y/n.”

You both lay there for a while, listening to the nature around you. It’s so peaceful; serene, the fireflies lighting up the spring.

“I wish every night were like this.” 

Volo squeezes your hand a little tighter. You watch as his lips curl into the smallest, yet sweetest smile. It makes your heart flutter. 

Had you always felt these things?

“Feeling content with sharing the experience of a serene, summer night.” he continues. “It’s easy with you.”

“I agree.” you reply in an almost whisper. “It’s… it’s nice.”

You can feel his eyes on you, even when you’re focused on the stars above. “So what did you want to talk about?” you ask, trying to break whatever tension you were both feeling.

“Never mind that.” 

You look to him once more. “Volo, I—”

“I just want to share this moment with you.”

He rolls over on his side to face you, his hand caressing your cheek. “Do you know just how pretty you are?”

Your abdomen feels like it’s going to explode. You can’t help but to blush as Volo says these things to you. You hope he doesn’t notice, but…

“Do you like it when I say these things?” He scoots closer, his chest barely touching your arm. “Hmm?”

You look at him, and it’s hard to keep yourself contained.

“I did, actually, want to talk with you about something tonight.” he whispers. “If you’ll allow me to.”

You nod. He takes a deep breath, his hand still placed on your cheek. “Y/n, I— if we’re to use the plates for ourselves, and forge this new world, would you… would you mind if we did it together?” He gulps. “Because I don’t want to do this without you.”

“Volo…”

He pulls you in close. 

So, so close.

“I can’t do this without you, y/n.”

You wrap your arms around him tightly, tangling your limbs together in the patch of flowers you lie on. Volo nuzzles his face into your neck. His breath is warm against your skin, his fingers tracing the seams of your Survey Corps uniform. You feel your breath hitch. Volo feels it too, looking up at you when he does. “Are you alright?”

You nod quickly. Maybe too quickly. 

“Y/n, promise you’re not lying to me.”

“I promise.” you breathe. 

His fingers continue to trace your uniform, every seam; every outline; every wrinkle in the fabric. “Y/n?” 

“Hmm?” You watch as his fingers slowly trace their way up to your neckline. 

“You do know I meant it when I said you were pretty, right?” His tone has completely shifted. He smirks lightly as he looks at you, lust in his eyes. “Because you are.” Untangling himself from your grasp, he sits up, pulling you up with him. “My pretty y/n.”

You were feeling those things again.

And he knows it.

He leans in as close as he can, noses almost touching. “Promise you won’t leave me behind.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it.”

He grabs your waist tightly and presses his lips to yours, pulling you into his lap as he does. He’s so passionate, yet so soft; his lips warm against yours in the cool, summer night. He pulls away to look at you, his eyes meeting your gaze as your lips part. You both smile at one another, and Volo is quick to kiss you once more.

“I’ve been wanting to do that for so long.” he says, holding your hands in his.

“Then why didn't you?”

“Because I needed to know where your intentions were.”

You giggle softly at his remark. “Obviously, I made the right choice.”

“That you did.” He pushes a stand of hair out of your face. “Not completely off topic, but how many plates do we have so far?”

“Seventeen.” you respond. “Why?”

He starts to get up, you sliding off his lap into the flowers. Volo extends his hand to you to help you up, not letting go once you’re standing. He looks to the mountain just up above, and a mischievous grin quickly forms on his face. He turns back to you, squeezing your hand tightly.

“Let’s go.”

[doodlejoltik]

the unwinnable game

[~2.7k words. Read it here or on Ao3]

Zugzwang (from German 'compulsion to move'; pronounced [ˈtsuːktsvaŋ]) is a situation found in chess and other turn-based games wherein one player is put at a disadvantage because of their obligation to make a move.

Centuries after their battle atop Mt Coronet, Rei confronts Volo in a nondescript forest, somewhere on Pasio. But the answers he's seeking aren't so easily given.

aka. a continuation of that one dialogue cliffhanger in the Mysterious Stones chapter because I'm extremely normal about these two

///

“There's something you'd like to say, isn't there… Rei?”

Volo turns around and Rei musters up the bravest expression he can.

Now that he's here, he doesn't know what to say first; all his planned questions bounce around his head, clamouring for dominance. Why are you here? How? Since when? You have a Togepi and a Togekiss? Why a tournament? What do you know about the mysterious stones?

Were we ever really friends?

That is, it takes an embarrassingly long time for Rei to respond. In the end, what he says isn’t a question at all. “That Togepi in the ruins was yours.”

Volo only shrugs. He's got a languid smile on his face. “It might've been. She likes running around.”

Internally, Rei is relieved. So he hasn't been seeing things. But he doesn't let it show on his face, and crosses his arms. “Why’d you hide from everyone for months, and only show yourself now?”

“Now, I wouldn't call it hiding,” Volo replies, waving his finger. “This is a big island, and I've made a good few acquaintances here on Pasio already! Perhaps our paths simply didn't cross.”

With the number of times Rei has visited the ruins for mysterious stone research, the odds of that are vanishingly unlikely. “But why didn't you even try? It's not like I've been keeping a low profile.” Of course, the reason is probably something like I tried to end the world and it would be awkward. And that's what Rei needs Volo to say.

The Arc Phone sits heavily in his belt satchel, recording every word.

“Oh, I was just preoccupied. The ruins here are simply fascinating! Even though they're replicas, teasing apart all the ancient cultures used in their construction is such a fruitful area of study. You know me.”

Yeah, I know you. “Find anything interesting about Arceus?” Rei snarks.

“Not particularly!” Volo shakes his head, looking disappointed. Then he perks up, and continues, “Now, Dialga and Giratina however…”

“Oh?” Rei seethes quietly. Of course he had been watching. Why hadn't Giratina said anything?

“It’s curious, isn’t it, how they have seen fit to partner themselves with new wielders?” Volo smiles. “And Palkia too, I’ve heard.”

“It is interesting,” Rei forces out, adjusting his scarf. He recalls Volo's last parting line about Arceus, all those months ago. “Nice to know that they've bonded willingly with people in this time,” he says pointedly.

Ignoring Rei's tone, Volo continues, “That man, Cyrus, who controls Palkia. What a character, wouldn't you say?”

Rei has a lot of thoughts about the Sinnohans’ decision to allow Cyrus - a man who has literally tried to remake the world and not disavowed said goal - to keep the embodiment of Space with him. He'd thought Adaman and Irida had to be joking, at first. What would the Captain think if she saw what her descendant had turned the Galaxy Team into…

“I suppose you see yourself in him.” Rei says flatly.

It's only the two of them here, in the middle of a forest, in the dead of night, so Volo should have no reason to be evasive. And yet -

“Hardly,” Volo laughs off. “Intellectual curiosity, nothing more.”

This is going nowhere. Does Volo seriously think he can fool him again? Probably not - every remark is undoubtedly purposeful, but with just enough plausible deniability to appear innocent. So maybe he just wants to mess with him. Great.

A different strategy, maybe. He’ll surely make a mistake at some point if Rei keeps pushing. “This… tournament that you proposed,” Rei says. “I suppose you're participating?”

“Naturally!” Volo says cheerfully. “Battles on Pasio are done in teams, are they not? Perhaps you'd like to-”

“No.” Rei glares at him. Oh, now, that was going too far. Going to shut that line of conversation immediately.

“So hostile,” Volo sighs. “A united Hisuian contingent would've been a sight to see. Well, the clan leaders should be more receptive, at least.”

“Not if I can help it,” Rei says, crossing his arms. He’s well aware of how childish it sounds, but the thought of his friends falling for Volo’s innocent merchant act, again, is too horrible to consider. Mentally, he rapidly revises his priorities - he has to meet with Adaman and Irida as soon as possible and explain everything. Tomorrow, ideally. Does he have the energy for that? It’s something like one in the morning, right now. He's dead on his feet. But he’ll make it happen. He has to, before Volo does.

But what if he’s already too late? When had Rei last spoken to them? The dance competition, that wasn’t that long ago, right? At least a week, maybe more, his mind supplies. He'd just been so busy… and surely they would have told him if they'd met Volo.

This little anxious spiral must be evident on Rei’s face somehow, because Volo chuckles, stepping closer. “The world doesn't revolve around you, Rei. Not here.”

“You don’t get to act all high and mighty,” Rei snaps. “Not when you’re pulling everyone along on your own strings. I suppose you think you make the world go ‘round.”

But Volo has a point, no matter how much he hates to admit it. Rei’s been assuming he was someone significant to this whole saga. The appearance of the mysterious stones coincided with his and Akari’s arrival to Pasio, after all, so was he really wrong for thinking that?

And Arceus spoke to him first. That had to mean something.

“On the contrary, I simply meant that we’re all on equal ground,” Volo says. For the first time, goes unspoken.

“I’ll still beat you,” Rei vows. He’d done it before, he could do it again. No matter if he was still favoured by Arceus or not. “Because my bonds with my Pokemon, and my friends, are real. And you don’t know what that feels like.” Though intended to be a sharp jab at Volo, instead, a deep bitterness colours those final words.

Volo’s expression twists into something briefly unreadable before it settles into a polite half-smile. “You’re quick to assume the worst of me.”

“Quick?” Rei barks out a harsh laugh. “No, it was exactly the opposite.” He’d been strung along so thoroughly, accepting every strange behaviour as simply one of Volo’s little oddities. Only up at the Celestica Ruins did those allowances start to crumble – and by then, it was too late.

Volo’s look at Rei is one of intrigue. The way Rei's seen him examining ancient ruins, like he's something Volo wants to observe, or study.

And Rei has had it. Enough dancing around the subject, trying to draw it out of Volo; clearly it’s never going to happen. “Is this all just a game to you? You tried to destroy the world! You want me to think you care about anyone?”

Volo raises an eyebrow. “That's a bold claim. Surely if that had happened, it would've ended up in the history books, somewhere.”

Well – okay. The only person who knew what happened was the Professor, sort of. And Cogita. Arceus knows how she found out. But Professor Laventon didn't know half of it, even, Rei had just incoherently vented everything emotional and hurting at him, swore him to secrecy, and then hoped that he'd never have to unpack that again.

Clearly Arceus had other designs.

“We were friends.” Rei’s voice cracks a bit, there; he hates how true it is. “I thought we were friends. But you were going to kill me for standing in your way!”

Volo frowns. “Now, why would I do that?” He takes a few paces towards Rei and smiles, purposefully, grin stretching tight across his face. “I wouldn't want to lose my favourite customer, after all!”

Stumbling backwards to regain the distance, Rei exclaims, “I’ve bought maybe one thing from you. Stop calling me that!”

“Recipient of free samples, semantics,” Volo shrugs, entirely unaffected, and Rei wars with the competing urges to punch him or bolt into the treeline.

“Play dumb all you want,” Rei hisses, “but you’ve already shown your hand. I could tell them everything. You won’t be able to fool anyone ever again.” Least of all me.

Volo tilts his head with a smirk. “Well then, why are you here?” he asks, calling Rei’s bluff.

And though he can’t know that the Arc Phone is listening in Rei’s satchel, Rei realises that his motivations must be laughably transparent. Maybe Volo thinks Akari, or Cynthia, is watching the whole thing from the treeline. The specifics of it don’t matter, really. Rei’s been outplayed from the very beginning.

Volo makes a little movement with his hand. There's a sudden rustle of movement behind Rei, and he whips around, hand on Decidueye's Pokeball -

But it's just Volo's Togepi, who warbles in alarm and quickly toddles past him.

“What would people rather believe in?” Volo says lightly. “The accusations of a boy who jumps at shadows?” He bends down to pick up Togepi. “Or in the innocence of their friend?”

In Volo's arms, Togepi lets out an adorable squeak.

Over the Pokeball on his belt, Rei’s hand is trembling with misfired adrenaline. He carefully drops his hand to his side and raises his head up high. “Cynthia trusts me. I’ve been here for months, and we’ve worked together on the mysterious stones since they were first found.”

“And so?” Volo shrugs. “A working relationship is hardly worth much. I thought you would've known better, with what Kamado did…”

Rei flinches.

The worst part about it all was that no matter what ulterior motives Volo might have had, back then, when he’d been thrown out into the wild with barely a few days’ worth of supplies – Volo had been there for him when nobody else was.

Volo had seen Rei fall apart and put himself back together with forced cheer. And so, he knew exactly where the cracks were, where to strike with his words to disassemble Rei all over again.

Of course Rei knows Cynthia is responsible, and smart, and has been nothing but friendly to him – but he doesn't really know her, does he? And Volo is her ancestor. Which is pretty obvious, honestly. She’d probably like him immediately.

Just like everyone else did. Including Rei.

“Besides, you're not the only one who's been making friends in high places,” Volo adds smoothly. “I’ve heard that Bettie’s word is quite well regarded.”

So now that Rei had wised up to Volo's true nature, he'd gone and found himself new people to use. “You’ve always been like this, then,” Rei huffs. None of it had been real; their entire ‘friendship’ had been predicated on Rei's usefulness. “They deserve to know the truth about you.”

“Truth? Or your own opinion?” Volo scoffs. “You think so highly of yourself, Rei, but you're not the beloved Hero of Hisui here. No…” he smiles. “You're entirely ordinary. Do remember, it was everyone in that stadium who heard Arceus' voice.”

Admittedly, that stings. He'd thought - maybe - that Arceus was finally telling him why He'd brought Rei here. What he was supposed to do in this strange new land. But he'd failed, unable to clearly hear Arceus’ voice.

Rei spares a thought for the Arc Phone, once a vessel for divine inspiration, now reduced to recording mortals’ petty feuds. His messages to Arceus have been left on read for months. He's probably allowed to be a bit petty, at this point.

Volo continues, “Imagine! Any one of us could become Arceus’ champion.” Togepi makes a little noise. “Yes, even you,” he says indulgently, lifting her up to face him, and she goes cross-eyed following his waving finger.

It's horribly cute, the sort of thing Rei would've been charmed by before. And it's clear Volo is no longer taking Rei seriously at all.

What starts out as a wavering thought suddenly asserts itself with startling clarity. “I don't need anything from you,” Rei realises. He'd told himself he was here for evidence, something concrete he could hold against Volo, and that was true. But beyond that, he'd been after something entirely more personal.

He can walk away.

“I don't need anything from you,” he repeats, with force this time.

Volo turns his attention away from Togepi, and this of all things is what finally seems to make him genuinely confused. “Leaving so soon, Rei?”

Rei doesn't elaborate. He turns on his heel to stalk through the forest back to civilisation. Now, because if he says anything more he doesn't know if he'll ever bring himself to stop. Because he's asking for something he'll never get.

Volo's saying something. He doesn't care to catch all the words, though some of it filters through - “challenge”, “tournament”, and “rivals” among them. The general shape of the message is clear. They'll meet again; Rei's powerless to stop that. But as best he can, he'll shake off whatever lingering grip Volo still has on him.

He doesn't stop walking as the trodden earth turns to paved cobbles under his feet, and he makes it all the way up his building's winding stairs to the little studio apartment that he's been given. Home, for now. Collapsing onto the lone armchair, he takes the Arc Phone out of his satchel and turns off the recording. Thank Arceus for divinely bestowed infinite storage, he supposes.

Rei knows that if he were to listen to it, there'd be nothing of use. Only hidden barbs and Rei’s own ugly, wounded anger. It feels fitting to delete it, to banish the whole encounter to memory, and perhaps eventually, less than that.

He doesn't, and instead tucks it away in a folder several layers deep.

Maybe Professor Laventon wrote about the whole disaster in his private diaries. Rei knows he has them, bless the man. He'd once stumbled into the Professor's office late at night, after an exhausting, terrifying escape from an Alpha, ready to tell Laventon off for sending him there – and startled the Professor fiercely, who quickly shut the manuscript he was writing with a blush. So even if Rei had sworn him to secrecy, he might have confided in the written word.

That's something he can set Cynthia on digging up, then. Even just the suggestion that Laventon, the First Pokemon Professor, had such personal writings, would probably send her into an unstoppable research frenzy. That much about her, at least, he knows. If it still existed in this era, Cynthia would almost certainly find it.

And maybe he doesn't need evidence. Not for the people who matter, anyway.

Akari’s only a few doors away, their apartments close neighbours just like back in Jubilife Village. If he wanted, he could wander over there once the sun rose, have her fantastic tamago rice, and tell her everything.

Is he ready to take that step into thin air? To trust that he'll be believed, in something that's infinitely more convoluted and improbable than the simple plea – “I don't know why the sky is red, it's not my fault, I only ever did what you told me to” –

Well. Volo might've been the last one to break his trust, but he was in no way the first.

Can he make good on those words that he’d levelled so confidently against Volo? That his bonds with his friends are real?

Akari had never doubted. And Adaman and Irida had gone against Kamado's will, risking the standing of their people, just to help him. He would be doing them a disservice if he didn't at least try.

And in this dangerous game, it might be the only winning move.

Even as he makes this decision, he feels the pull of sleep. It's offensively late, or early, in the morning now, depending on perspective, and all of this is Tomorrow Rei’s problem.

There's no energy left to even stumble to bed. Rei falls asleep right there in the lumpy armchair, hand loosely gripped around the Arc Phone, Adaman and Irida’s Poryphone numbers on the screen, ready and waiting.

And, though Rei will certainly wake up sore with a crick in his neck come the morning…

For the first time in a long while, his dreams are not restless.

[onestepbackwards]

In the self-aware AU what would the characters react to the player having a little sibling.

Hearing the player give a tutorial and run around in their own save file. Letting their sibling be the one to catch their own Pokémon, customize Akari or Rei to their wishes, take photos with Pokémon and speak their opinions about the cast.

This may derail from the other headcannons with the characters becoming self-aware overtime. Unsure if this fits.

What about the sibling liking the game so much they decide to play the game on their own account. However, every character is still just as self-aware having memories of the original players save file, and the new one.

Even possibly having the ability to roam around the game, but they are still forced into a cutscene after a certain threshold is made.

Volo being invested in knowing the “True God’s, and Little God” entire ancestry and lives outside the game, as the player isn’t watching.

Telling the child what he is forced to do to them, begging for forgiveness, and doing his genuine best to both befriend the child despite such strings. Establishing enough trust to ask them about their days at school, and things about their “holy” family.

Now even questioning who’s the one pulling these canon strings? Arceus? It would only make him hate the creature even more.

Questioning the intentions behind their sentience, who had started it and why?

Two stories happening on a screen just which is better staying in script entirely to fulfill their purpose of entertainment, or leap into the unknown with the possibility of never seeing either players again.

Then there’s Ingo who can see the red flags, and would inform the player. At first he would be trying to give the child battle advice, and to trust their instincts if something is wrong.

I wonder whether he’d be in the wants to fulfill purpose of play and look after the child but at an expense of never being played again…. I’d think he would make the sacrifice if it meant the player and their family would be safe in the end.

Ohh, the moment they all realize it’s your sibling, it becomes a trial to make the best impression for them.

Volo, like you said, would no doubt try and get close. He’s be one of the firsts to openly break the code to talk with your sibling, warning them he’s being forced to betray them in game later, and to please forgive him.

If your siblings agrees, then Volo will take it as a blessing, and make his move, trying to figure more about you and your family. He’ll be the best friend your sibling could ask for, even if its just to learn more about you.

Akari and Rei, whoever your sibling didn’t pick for their playthrough, also help out your sibling, wanting to genuinely be friends. Though they don’t appear as often as Volo does. Maybe they’ll have the courage to reveal themselves to you too?

Ingo is the most wary about doing this, unsure how you would react. But he does end up stepping in if Volo or even the others get too close or comfortable. Being the most familiar with the code, if he can’t get then to back off peacefully, he isn’t above teleporting then elsewhere.

Ingo wants to be friends, he genuinely does! And he sees s much potential in your sibling!

But he doesn’t want to risk things too much. If you find out, and get upset, it could mean the literal end of their world. And he recognizes what Volo is doing is especially manipulative. He doesn’t want your sibling getting upset or to be used just to get to you.

It doesn’t deter Volo though.

Meanwhile, you hear a lot about the characters in game. Your sibling happily goes on about his journey so far, and he seems to have an attachment to Volo.

You don’t think much of it, until they mention Volo asked about you.

Its something you shrug off, but it does make you wonder if your sibling may be playing pretend with Volo.

You decide it’s best to keep an eye out. Especially if they haven’t been betrayed yet. If your sibling is this attached, you don’t want them getting too upset later on.

Though the stuff your sibling keeps bringing up is a bit weird. Yes, you will be keeping a close eye on them indeed.

[fitzs-trained-monkey]

The Blood of the Covenant

Chapter One: First Steps (Toward White-Faced Cliffs)

Summary: Ominis Gaunt makes his very first friends. || Masterlist

Warnings: None

Song: We Are Gonna Be Friends - Carried Away

A/N: Please tell me what you think. This is my first real contribution to this fandom and I'm unreasonably nervous about it.

He felt a certain fondness looking back on that day. Sitting in King’s Cross Station, assaulted by unfamiliar and frightening sensations. It was scary at the time, but he’d only been eleven then. The hulking monster of soot, smoke, and steel lurched out of the station, and with it, he was finally, finally free.

Even though, at the time, he hadn’t quite figured out that he was trapped to begin with.

That would come with time. And pain. But he didn’t know that quite yet.

And to be fair, he wasn't entirely free. His mother and father would scarcely let him flee so effortlessly from their clutches. But for the first time in his life, he had a real choice - many real choices, in fact. Surely, if he fought hard enough, he wouldn't have to be the villain. He wasn’t destined to become his older brother or his father. He could be the hero, he was sure of it. At eleven years old, he was determined. He would write his own story - prove mother and father and ‘Volo wrong. He would just have to be brave. 

That was the tricky part. 

Bravery wasn't particularly his forte. 

Well, he would just have to work on that. After all, how hard could it be? Without mother and father around to punish him, or ‘Volo over his shoulder to ensure they would, the boy was sure that bravery could be forged easily enough. And Hogwarts, of course, would be the perfect place to build up a little courage. 

Perhaps he could start with what Aunt Noctua always said: Making some friends. 

The only problem there was that… well he'd never really had a friend before. The closest he'd ever come to a playmate were the family house elves and somehow, he didn't think that magical enslavement was quite what his Aunt had in mind. 

" How does one go about making a friend ?" The boy wondered with a frown.

A soft click jarred him from his reverie, and the boy tilted his head toward the door of his little seating area, listening to the voices he'd previously been ignoring.

"Well, I don't know… push it a little harder?" One of the voices, likely a girl's though it was hard for him to distinguish, said. 

"I'm pushing on it as hard as I can." The second speaker sounded more like a boy, at least in temperament.

"Then why isn't it opening?"

"Perhaps it's jammed?" The second voice suggested. This was followed by an indignant huff from the first.

"But everywhere else is full!" The girl complained. "Try it again, Sebastian."

"Oh, fine!" The boy - Sebastian, evidently - exclaimed. "But if I break my shoulder, you'll owe me a new one."

The boy inside the compartment raised a brow and stood. Reaching out, he felt around for the door's handle before twisting and easily sliding it open. 

"It helps to unfasten the latch," He hummed, rather amused. Then, gesturing inside the compartment, he smirked. "In need of a seat?"

"Yes, please!" The girl chirped. He quickly stepped to the side as she slipped past him. Sebastian followed, though not without a low grumble.

"I would have gotten that eventually," He said. The rustle of fabric that followed usually indicated that a speaker had crossed their arms and the frown in his voice wasn't hard to detect. 

"Of course you would."

Sebastian huffed. "As if you didn't do the same thing your first time riding a train."

"I didn't." The boy shrugged, chuckling. Sebastian opened his mouth to contend that only to be met with a quick jab in the ribs from his companion. 

"Sebastian!" She chastened. "Don't be rude!"

"Right. Sorry."

"Apologies on behalf of my brother," The girl said, an eye-roll quite evident in her tone. "It's a pleasure to meet you. I'm Anne Sallow, and he's Sebastian."

The boy nodded. "Pleasure to meet you both," He replied. 

"Are you not going to introduce yourself?" Sebastian wondered. Were he an adult, likely there would have been a hint of displeasure in the boy's tone, but seeing as he was merely eleven, the only undertones in his words were those of curiosity.

The boy froze. If he shared his name, the likelihood that these two would desire to befriend him would either drop or rise significantly. (The latter for all the wrong reasons, of course.) However, he could hardly go about befriending anyone should he withhold his name from the entire school.

"I'm Ominis." He took a deep breath, grimacing as he readied himself for the backlash (or quite the opposite) to come. "Ominis… Gaunt ." 

There was silence.

“Oh…” That was Sebastian.

"I've… heard things about that family," Anne's voice began softly. Not at all an odd thing to say really. Because everyone who was someone had heard something about the Gaunts. Looking back on it, he could hear it in her, just as he had so many others. 

The fear. The disgust. 

And beneath it all, there was that reluctant awe. (In his usual circles - his parent's circles - that awe was less reluctant and more forced. ) As though he were some sort of prince, heir to a vile, imaginary crown. 

Oh, how he grew to hate it.

Though he was only eleven at the time and oh-so-innocent, Ominis knew enough. He knew enough to recognize that his family was awful rude and stuffy and old fashioned. He just didn’t know how bad it really was. Not at the time. His name - his bloodline - was his crown, revered by all, and coveted by those who didn't have the sense to fear it. The Gaunt legacy was one of darkness and hate - it was not something to be exalted. 

Why could people not acknowledge them for what they were? Not royalty, but-

"Pure-blood maniacs - the lot of 'em. That's what my uncle says," Sebastian cut in, foregoing his sister's more polite tone. There was no awe in his voice. Ominis caught only a steadfast surety. "I never understood why the Prophet always talks about your folks like they're some kind of royalty, but that whole clan sounds more like a bunch of spoiled brats to me. What say you, Ominis?"

The blunt honesty caught him off guard. Ominis blinked.

You see, despite having been born blind, (or perhaps because of it) Ominis Gaunt was quite adept at reading people. He could hear the difference between a smile and a sneer, even when one masked the other. He could scent out a lie from across a room, even in a setting steeped with deceit. He could taste a challenge before it crawled its way between a speaker's lips, not unlike a snake that tastes its prey from deep within its hole - never giving a warning before it strikes. (An apt metaphor, though Ominis would never take pride in it.)

The boy was so used to deception - had lived his entire eleven years of life by its principles. Navigating the cloak-and-dagger conversations of pure-blood high society was a skill sewn into his very essence. Yet, none of his parents' instructions on navigating polite conversation could have prepared him for the metaphorical bludger that was Sebastian Sallow.  

His words alone painted for Ominis a perfect impression of his entire personality. 

Thus Ominis was quite sure that the child before him was unlike anyone he had ever met. This boy had never known wealth nor privilege as he had. (Ominis could smell the dirt on the clothes he and his sister wore.) There were no schemes nor hidden agendas, it seemed. No, he simply didn't have the patience for such things. He was purely upfront - a trait Ominis was far from used to. Sebastian wasn't going to play nice for the sake of propriety.

And truthfully, Ominis was quite bored with propriety. Perhaps that was why he didn’t lash out in his family’s defense. Or perhaps it was because ‘Volo had pushed him down the stairs earlier that day. He wasn’t sure. Either way, that was the beginning. That was how the wool over his eyes began to unravel, so to speak. But again. He didn’t know that yet. For now, as an eleven-year-old who was quite annoyed with his brother would, he just found it all rather funny.

"Ugh! ‘Bash!" Anne hissed, though the admonition died on her lips when Ominis cracked a smile.

"Oh, I quite agree," He said with a smirk. "You can't imagine the family reunions." 

Oh , if his parents heard him say that… 

Rather, only Sebastian and Anne did. They didn't seem particularly affronted. In fact, a broad grin stretched into Sebastian's next words. 

"I think the three of us are going to be great friends, Ominis."

And Ominis smiled then. They had extended their friendship first, and he hadn't even needed to do anything! He'd thought he would have at least had to buy them off, but no! They didn't ask a knut of him. What a spectacular feeling that was! 

He could be normal, like Auntie Noctua always said. He could make friends. He could do this . 

He would prove his siblings and his parents wrong, just like Aunt Noctua always said he could.

"Thank you, I look forward to it," He said, with a slight smile. "So, this is your first year at Hogwarts as well, I presume?"

"Yes, it is!" Anne answered readily, practically buzzing with excitement.

"I see." He nodded. "Would the two of you happen to be twins then?"

"Indeed we are," Sebastian hummed, a hint of pride in his voice. "Can't you tell?"

Ominis frowned and retreated slightly. "As a matter of fact, I-I can't," He said.

"Why's that?" The boy wondered, genuinely confused. His sister sighed.

"Because he's blind , Sebastian," She hissed under her breath.

"Oh… Wait, really?"

Ominis raised a brow. "Yes?"

"So what's that like?" He wondered, leaning forward in his seat. "What color is everything for you? Is it black or white?" 

Anne groaned. 

"I wouldn't know…" Ominis answered slowly. Yet a smirk tugged at the corners of his lips, despite himself. "I was born this way. What's your excuse?"

Most questions he received about his blindness were demeaning in some way or another. He was used to them by now. However, for once, he didn't mind because this one was entirely genuine… if only in the sense that not a single ounce of thought had been put into it. 

"He doesn't have one, I'm afraid." Anne deadpanned. "He's just an idiot."

Sebastian's robes rustled as he drew back, offended. "What are you two getting at? I just ask-" He paused. "Oh."

It would seem that Sebastian's mouth ran a bit faster than his head. There was honesty in that. Ominis found himself appreciating it.

"Merlin's beard, Sebastian." Anne sighed, shaking her head. She shifted to address Ominis. "Believe it or not, my brother's got the brain of a Ravenclaw."

"Pity he doesn't use it," Ominis hummed, teasingly.

The girl giggled. "That's what I've been saying for years."

"Oh yes, how clever of you, Anne. Let's all just applaud your stunning originality," Sebastian said flatly. Ominis could practically hear him rolling his eyes. "You know, Ominis, I've always thought my sister more inclined to Gryffindor," He continued. "She reminds me of a lion quite often. Though, not so much in temperament as in looks. I mean, you're lucky you can't see because it's rather frightening - razor sharp claws, yellow teeth, and when she wakes up in the morning, she's got quite the impressive mane. She's also unreasonably loud!"

"Wha-" Anne gasped and a loud thump indicated that Sebastian was going to have an impressive bruise on his arm by the end of the day. 

Ominis couldn't help but laugh. And, oddly enough, that laughter lasted for the duration of the train ride. He'd never before felt the urge to laugh quite like he did in the presence of the Sallow twins. Because… well he could . With no one around to chastise him, he could laugh all he wanted. 

Something warm and entirely foreign stirred in his chest. Thus, on that very day, Ominis Gaunt experienced the sensations of both true freedom and kinship for the first time in his life and, like a Niffler, he welcomed it greedily, relishing it in the moment before it would inevitably be taken from him. After all, good things were always taken from him. He wasn't good enough to keep them. He hadn’t quite learned that lesson yet. But he would.

Rather sad that, but no one ever said this was a happy story. 

By the time the train arrived in Hogsmeade Station, the twins were practically bouncing off the walls of that little compartment. Though, in hindsight, the mounds of candy Ominis bought for them to share certainly didn't help matters. He did it because he could. Because mother and father would have told him no. Because he had money and his parents never spent a Galleon on anyone else. Auntie Noctua said generosity is a good thing. So Ominis would be a generous little boy.

“Oh, Sebastian! Just look at it!” Anne squealed, her face plastered to the window. Her brother, in an attempt to remain composed and thus appear more mature than his sister, remained in his seat. He was equally excited, however, if his voice was anything to go on.

“We’ve passed by dozens of times. We practically live here! Why is today any different?” His feet drummed on the floor. Oh, he couldn’t wait.

“Because today we’re going inside !” Anne shook her brother vigorously and Ominis couldn't help but laugh. 

“Look at it, Ominis!” She then implored him. 

He didn’t hesitate a second.

“Oh, yes. Stunning. Positively mind boggling.” 

“Isn’t it just?” She sighed. “I’m just so… wait.” She whipped around again and crossed her arms.

“HA!” Sebastian gave a rather loud and phony laugh. “Who’s the moonmind now?”

Anne kicked her brother before resting her hand on Ominis’s arm. He flinched, but only a little bit. He was proud of that. Thankfully, she didn’t touch his skin. That would have been far too much. He was only eleven, after all. He hadn’t realized it wasn’t normal for touch to be an awful thing. He hadn’t yet realized it wasn’t normal for parents to hit their little ones.

“I’m so sorry,” She said. “I truly didn’t mean to be so rude.”

Ominis just chuckled in response. “Don’t be. You’re not mean, Anne.”

The poor girl seemed so genuinely and deeply upset. It honestly floored him.

“No, no. I really will be more careful.”

“Don’t waste your breath,” He maintained. “It will happen again. And again… and again.”

He was, after all, quite used to much worse. 

Then the train pulled to a stop. Ominis was a bit thrown in his seat, but otherwise alright. Sebastian jumped up like someone had just lit off a Wizzpopper in their compartment. He and his twin were bouncing on their feet. 

“Are you ready, mate?” Sebastian prodded. Now, this made Ominis frown. He fleetingly reached into his robes to touch his wand. Still there.

“I… I think I’ll wait.” He said. Anne immediately frowned. 

“Wait?” She sounded like she couldn’t possibly fathom what the word meant. “Merlin’s beard! Why would you possibly want to wait?”

He caught himself swaying a bit again and corrected. 

“Less people.” He replied. 

“Oh… I see.” Sebastian nodded slowly. Then he giggled. “Dammit. I did it again.”

Anne hit him. For the fourth time. Ominis suspected she did that quite a lot. 

“Sebastian!” She admonished. “Language! There is a lady present.”

“Shit. Where?” He gasped mockingly. “Ominis, have you lied to me?”

They were trying to make him feel better. It was working. He smiled.

“Oh, I hope not.”

“Damn. Don’t say that, mate. You got my hopes up.” 

Anne died a little bit, smacking her palm against her forehead loud enough for Ominis to flinch again. He opted to change the subject before she did herself (or her brother) any more damage.

“Say, if the two of you live in this valley - as I assume you must - why take the train?” He wondered. 

“You talk so fancy,” Anne said. Not an actual answer to his question and she sounded rather sad. He decided then and there that he didn’t like it when Anne Sallow sounded sad.

He’d hardly had time to frown before Sebastian spoke up.

“Mum and Dad were so excited about it,” He said. “They ate up any bit of news they could. They so desperately wanted us to be able to ride.” The boy laughed and then his voice fractured - and not because he was an eleven year old boy. “They set aside some money. Put it in their will. Uncle Solomon says its just this once.”

“Oh.” And really. What else could he say? “You’re… orphans?”

The thought of simply not having parents seemed so foreign to him. But then again… perhaps not.

Before her brother could say anything brash (and he was going to judging by his intake of breath) Anne huffed and placed her hands on her hips. 

“That we are,” She said. “Come now. Looks like most everyone has cleared out.” 

She took him and her brother by their sleeves and promptly dragged them from their compartment. Sebastian was rather stiff - his footsteps gave him away. 

“You’re very brave, you know,” Ominis told the other boy under his breath. Sebastian froze.

“There are steps here, Ominis. Three of them. Be careful.” Anne informed him, remaining deliberately unresponsive to his comment. 

“Yes, thank you.” He pulled out his wand and it pulsed a few times. It vibrated, seemingly happy to be put to work after hours in his pocket. There were indeed three steps. Ominis liked Anne quite a bit. Thoughtful she was. Loud, but in a good sort of way. An honest way. His wand liked her too. She descended the steps first and her brother, though he didn’t turn to face Ominis, he did speak. His voice was quiet in an awful sad sort of way. 

“Brave… That’s not what people usually say,” He murmured. 

Ominis cracked a little smile. Noctua always said that a stretch of the lips and a crinkle of the cheeks makes people more at ease. 

“Well, I do like to be different.”

Sebastian huffed a laugh and helped Ominis down the steps. There was something warm about that. He was trying. They both were. 

However it was Sebastian who ended up slipping off the last step.

Ominis and his new friends stood at the back of a herd of eleven-year-olds who began to walk almost as soon as the three of them got off the train. They quickly followed. At the head of the pack was a man who introduced himself as Mr. Moon - the Hogwarts groundskeeper. He inhaled quite a lot throughout his speech and Ominis found that rather annoying. Speech patterns aside, the groundskeeper led them down a rather steep gravel-covered path. It was still rather slick from the afternoon rain, which the young Gaunt did not appreciate in the slightest, but really that only made something amazing happen. Every time he slipped (which was only thrice, mind you) Sebastian would catch him.

Ominis really didn’t need him to. He didn’t need help . In fact, he never really even lost his footing - just slipped a little. Yet, Sebastian was there. He helped, and not in a demeaning way. He didn’t say anything. Just helped. But that was enough and Ominis felt a little warm around him.

The next obstacle, however, was worse . 

There were many things that Ominis Gaunt did not like. He was a particular person after all. But rather high on that list was a simple little thing called water . He didn’t like it. He didn’t like floating in it, he didn’t like being doused with it, and he most certainly despised the thought of drowning in it.

Now, most unfortunately, he was led by this groundskeeper onto a dock of all things and waiting for the little first years, were boats . Waves lapped against the shore and the little wooden contraptions bumped against the dock. Ominis did not want to be in a boat. All the other first years were climbing on in and the boats rowed themselves away from the dock soon after being filled. Or at least, he assumed as much, as the accursed things bobbed their way out of his wand’s range. For the record, his wand was a little curious about the water. After all, it had experienced so little aside from the dusty wand shop which had housed it for most of its inanimate life. It wanted to learn of water, but Ominis would not indulge such curiosity. 

“Oh, how lovely!” Anne chirped. “Boats!”

“No.” Ominis said simply.

Sebastian frowned. “No?”

“No,” He said again. “I’ll not be getting in one of those things.”

“Doesn’t look like you have another option, mate,” Sebastian noted. “Thats the only way to get to the castle.”

He crossed his arms. “There are carriages.”

“Those carriages over there?” Anne referenced some point in the distance. “Good luck. They’re at least a hundred meters to our right and moving fast.”

Ominis hesitated. 

No,” He said again. “I’ll wait right here.” 

Now, he was fully aware that he sounded like a spoiled child. But really - Boats!

“Oh, come on. Its not that bad,” Sebastian tried to persuade him.

“Drowning at age eleven seems quite bad!” He exclaimed.

“Ominis! They’re leaving us behind!” Anne pleaded.

He huffed. “Then you two go on. I suppose I’ll not be receiving an education.”

“Not without you.”

The twins were then unusually quiet for a moment, and Ominis really should have seen it coming. But he would learn. One day he would learn. 

He felt a pair of hands grab onto each of his arms, and with a strength that belied their size, the twins lifted him into the little dingy waiting just off the dock. Ominis protested vehemently but that changed nothing. As he was set down, the boat rocked dangerously from side to side. He cried out, latching onto the sides with a death grip. But now that he was in the boat, it wasn’t like he could get out.

��You two are going to get it for this!” He spat - an entirely empty threat, but he felt it needed to be said.

“Whatever you say, Ominis.” Sebastian climbed into the boat next and Ominis just about lost all that candy from earlier as the thing teetered and tossed. Then Anne boarded next and all he could really do was grumble.

“Come on… you too,” Anne said once settled. 

Ominis frowned. ”Hm?” He hadn’t heard anyone standing behind their little trio - no breathing, no footsteps.

Yet, the boat rocked again and a pair of robes brushed over his leg. A tiny, quiet little voice apologized. 

“And what’s your name?” Anne asked as the boat began to move. Ominis just groaned.

“I-Irene.” This student was clearly a girl. She sounded more terrified than he was. “My name is Irene.” And she had a funny little voice too - flat and throaty, scratched up like she’d been screaming all day.

Ignoring the oohs and ahhs of his companions, (the other girl didn’t make a peep) Ominis tried very hard not to think about anything at all as their little boat approached the castle. Certainly not how just one wrong move would have him flailing in icy liquid until his clothing dragged him down to the depths of the Black Lake. Yes. He absolutely wasn’t thinking about that.

When finally their boats bobbed into a harbor that was apparently underground according to Sebastian, Ominis finally let himself breathe. Which was a relief as he was beginning to get a bit lightheaded. Sebastian and Anne climbed out first and together pulled him from the death trap dingy. 

“Alright, up and out now,” Sebastian urged the other girl. Very helpful these twins were, he decided. Ominis heard the clasp of their hands and then… a second noise, this one none too pleasant. See, Sebastian tugged on the girl’s arm and there came a loud, rather stomach-churning pop. Ominis assumed it was her shoulder.

The poor little thing hissed but miraculously stayed upright in the boat. Seeing as their little group was the last to arrive and most of the other first years were already filling out, the little mishap garnered little attention. However, Anne, always so concerned, was positively mortified.

“Bloody hell, love! Are you okay?” She immediately climbed off the landing and back into the boat, before helping to lift the other girl out.

“I’m fine,” Irene said, still so quietly. 

“I-I am so, so sorry…” Sebastian swallowed audibly. “I think you should get that looked at…” He sounded downright sick. There came another disgusting popping noise followed by a nasty grinding that made Ominis even more queasy than he already was. 

“Great gobstones!” Anne gasped. “Did you just shove your shoulder back into its socket?”

Irene seemed to back away a bit. “It's fine… happens all the time.”

“Alright…” Sebastian scratched the back of his head. “Wait a minute, are you an American?”

Ah, so that’s what was so odd about her voice! Ominis had been looking in the wrong place, so to speak. It was her accent that was funny. The little oddity was American. How… exotic. 

“Y-yes… I am,” Irene practically whispered.

“Well… God blind me,” Anne said.

“Language, Anne,” Sebastian teased.

“Oh, shove it.” 

Ominis just huffed, still rather grumpy - or at least reminding the twins that he had been. “Well, come on! Let’s not miss the sorting.”

Pulling out his wand, he and the twins followed after the rest of the first years. The strange American trailed behind them, quiet as a mouse. Destiny awaited them. And all four of them knew it. Perhaps, however, with all fate had in store for them, they shouldn’t have been quite so giddy.

[literary-motif]

Epilogue

In which things work out. ~ 1,500 words

Overview // VIII. Num Scire Volo?

The next morning left you feeling miserable. You were curled up on the armchair in the study while Theodore sat slumped back in the settee. 

Cradling your respective cups of tea, you bounced ideas off of each other, scheming how to get out of your predicament. So far, you had nothing but despair. 

Distantly, you heard the front door fall shut. 

“That must be Elisabeth,” you said, sipping your tea. She had not come home with you last night. 

“Or maybe the authorities are here to arrest me,” Theodore said, burying his face in his hands and glancing at the door worriedly. You scoffed.

His anxiety was contagious, however, and you waited tensely for whoever would reveal themself. 

There was no knock before the door flung open. The black fabric of a puffy dress caught your eye immediately. Both you and Theodore let out a sigh of relief. 

Elisabeth waltzed into the room with a smile so bright it felt foreign in the gloomy desperation of the atmosphere around you. Without another word, she walked up to the coffee table between you, slapping a piece of paper onto it triumphantly.

“You are welcome,” she said. With a pleased hum, she took a biscuit from the previously untouched tray. 

You frowned, paralleling your brother as he leaned forward to get a better look at the paper. It was a check. Your eyes widened in disbelief as you saw its value.

“What—” Theodore stuttered, beside himself. “Where did—? How—? What did you—?”

Setting the porcelain on the table carefully, you placed a hand over your mouth in shock, still trying to understand. Your debts were paid, with plenty of money to spare. 

“Elisabeth—?” you breathed astounded. 

She shrugged, letting a cookie hang from her lips as she poured herself a cup of tea. “I met a kind man,” she said, adding two sugars before getting comfortable on the cushions, “and had an amazing night, might I add. I fulfilled a dream.”

Theodore’s cup shook violently on the saucer. She plucked it from his fingers before it tumbled to the ground. 

“How—?” he gasped, disbelieving that the problems that had been steadily crushing him for weeks could dissolve with the help of a kind stranger. 

“Doesn’t matter how,” Elisabeth said. “You are much too focused on understanding everything. Sometimes, you need to accept things as they are because there are no explanations to be given. With this” — she gestured to the little piece of paper — “the Hoares will get off out back, and there is enough to spare to finance the wedding you have always wanted,” Elisabeth said, adding almost sadly, “provided she wants you back. I suggest you run and apologize after we have settled things with the bank.”

He nodded slowly, still speechless with his eyes fixed on the check. 

You could not utter a word. It felt like an illusion, and you worried that any sudden movement would shatter the spell, thrusting you back into the grim reality of your threatening doom. 

Elisabeth glanced between you, her mouth twisted into a smirk. “Yeah, I know,” she said, finishing her tea and picking up the paper as she rose to her feet. “I bet I looked like you two when he gave it to me, like gaping fish. Come on. I would like to appease the bank now if it aligns with your busy schedules.”

It was only after settling your debt — Lord Hoare accepting the check with raised eyebrows but a smile on his face as he offered you tea and tried to convince you to invest — that the dream began solidifying into reality.

The fresh London air filled your lungs after stepping out of the building with your siblings. It felt like the first breath of air you had had in a long time.

“I still cannot believe it,” you said, watching Theodore scurry off into the distance to seek out his ex-fiancée and undo his mistakes. “Thank you, Lizzie.” 

Elisabeth chuckled as your brother tripped in his haste, nearly landing face-first on the dirty road. 

“Of course,” she said, shooting you a glance before beginning to walk home with you. “You were right, you know,” she said after a while when you had passed the theater and crossed the Thames. 

It had been ages since you had taken a walk together, and both of you were enjoying the peaceful quiet of each other'scompany. 

“I often am,” you teased, nudging her shoulder playfully as she rolled her eyes. “What exactly was I right about this time?”

She hesitated, and you suppressed the urge to offer her a cigarette. 

“I talked with him all night,” she said quietly, staring into the distance at the overcast sky. “There is nothing wrong with me. I know what I want, and I know what not.” 

You felt a surge of affection and pride for her. “I’m glad,” you said, smiling gently as she turned to look into your eyes. 

“He says he is sorry,” she added after a pause, her brows furrowing in confusion and curiosity. “After I mentioned you, he asked me to tell you that. He apologizes for his friend and wishes you the best.” 

The reminder of Xanthus made your blood freeze. You nodded, forcing a smile. 

The pieces of your broken heart would take a while to mend themselves back together, and it would take you many paintings and long walks in solitude until you had processed all that had passed between you. 

Dontis was a kind man, and you were infinitely grateful that he had helped your sister discover part of her identity. 

You could see she had questions about how you knew him — what he was apologizing for — but you felt now was not the right time to answer them. 

Over the next months, the loose threads of your life began tying themselves back together by your arduous effort. 

Lord Leighton reached out to you, offering you the chair of a professorship at the Royal Academy of Arts. You declined. 

London was not the city for you. It had always felt suffocating, and despite your new family dynamic and setting down flowers by an unmarked grave, you could never exchange it for the artistic levity you felt in Paris. 

You had longed to return to your studio from the day you had stepped foot onto the island, revisit your acquaintances, and return to your unfinished painting with the clear blue sky. 

No teaching position in the academic field would bring you as much contentment. With your family’s wealth restored sufficiently, there was no need for you to worry about the economic aspect of your life. 

Your reputation remained unblemished after Elisabeth forged the letter informing you of your parent’s deaths. Your number of commissions increased daily. These added royalties, as well as the earnings from the many exhibitions you held both in France and England, allowed you to lead a comfortable life.

Theodore married in the spring after fully disclosing everything that had happened to his spouse and asking her for forgiveness on bended knee. As far as you knew, she was the only other person besides your siblings to know what had truly happened regarding your parents. 

Elisabeth continued studying the occult. She won renown in these circles for her insights, broad knowledge in the field, and rigorous method of study. There were three volumes on the subject of Incubi published under her pen name. In her latest letter, she told you of her work on one relating to werewolves. 

In her spare time, she held seances in the library of the family mansion, which she looked after alone after Theodore had moved out. She never took a lover, confident in her disinterest in romance. 

When you traveled to London for an exhibition or as part of your promise to your siblings, she would always greet you at the train station with open arms, her black dress flowing in the breeze and her lips twisted into a content smile. With time, you felt the rift torn into your relationship mending.

On one of your visits, you had gathered the courage to tell her about your experiences with Lord Claiborne. With her knowledge of the unexplainable, you hoped retelling your story might grant you the closure your paintings had not been able to give you. 

Elisabeth had poured you a cup of tea, listening closely to all the foggy details you remembered. 

“What do you make of this?” you asked her after finishing with your account of what had happened at the ball. 

She looked pensive, letting the silence stretch between you as she contemplated what you had told her. 

“It’s no wonder that house burnt down,” she said eventually, shaking her head sadly. “A tragic loss of life that could have been avoided. Poor Lady Alderton. She still comes to me twice a week in the hopes of talking to her wife, you know. I do not have the heart to tell her that the dead cannot be heard unless they want to.”

Elisabeth cleared her throat, setting down her tea. 

“You’re lucky you got out of that story alive, Picasso,” she said gravely, her gaze settling on you. “To me, it sounds like you had a run-in with a vampire. A ruthless one by the name of Xanthus Claiborne.”

Annotations

[conelluwrites]

tried to stuff me like a doll

Volo x AFAB! Reader

Kinktober Masterlist

Kinktober Playlist

Song: Barren by Nicole Dollanganger

Dead Dove Do Not Eat: non-con

“You’re being a crybaby.”  His voice is harsh and minimizing. The air around you both brushes past your cheeks, making you realize that you had been crying.  Your chest feels tight- have you been hyperventilating or is it just the anxiety that comes with the situation of all of this?  “I told you at the start, I’ll become God even if nobody else wants it to happen.”

Warnings: spoilers for PLA, creampie, non-con

The sickening, limp thud of your pokemon hitting the ground made your eyes shoot away from Volo and Giratina instantly, looking at the unmoving, not breathing body of your friend.  You don’t even hear yourself scream, but you can feel the sting in your throat as the noise escapes you and the burn of your knees on the cold, harsh tile ground.  Your pokemon’s body is still warm, of course it is, but the fact it doesn’t call to you- the fact that it’s completely still as your shaking hands grasp at it shows you what you already knew.  The sharp tug of your head upwards and annoyed grunt from Volo brings you back to Earth quickly.  You’ve never seen him so, so…  You can’t even formulate one thought before your brain starts a new one.  His eyebrows are furrowed in anger and disgust, he’s sneering like you’re shit that he stepped on (and, to be honest, that’s exactly how you feel), the fingers gripping your hair near the scalp are practically trembling with the force behind them.

“What, you bastard, are you going to kill me?” Your voice sounds foreign to you, had you really screamed that loud or that long that it’s rasping and painful?  You’ve never spoken to anyone (much less Volo) in such a vitriolic tone, it feels almost disgusting to use it.  The grip is slowly released for your hair, your hands immediately flying up to massage the sore spot.  Volo flicks his hands, probably riding them of whatever hair he managed to yank out.

“You’re being a crybaby.”  His voice is harsh and minimizing. The air around you both brushes past your cheeks, making you realize that you had been crying.  Your chest feels tight- have you been hyperventilating or is it just the anxiety that comes with the situation of all of this?  “I told you at the start, I’ll become God even if nobody else wants it to happen.”

“No need to call me names,” his voice is like he’s chastising you for speaking out of line to an authority figure (is that what he is now?), “I’m not the one who’s in the wrong here.”

“You’re not in the wrong?” You spit back, standing on shaking legs.  Has he always been so tall?  Has he always towered over you?  His laughter crackles through the air, making you feel even more miniscule so close to him.

“It’s so fun to see you angry at me!” His voice cuts through his own laughter like a knife, unyielding and sharp.  “It’s almost cute.”

You grit your teeth so hard it’s painful. “Fuck off, don’t call me cute.”

“Such language!  So unsightly for someone so cute, someone who practically followed me around like a lost puppy for how long now?” He shrugs. “It hardly matters now, I suppose.  Regardless, you shouldn’t be acting like this.  You’re normally so kind to everyone…” His voice is sarcastic and he leans over you, his grin wicked and wide.  His hand is hot and uncomfortable as he tilts your head up at him by your chin.  “C’mon, you know who you’re talking to now, please don’t be so angry and annoyed.”

You huff and remove your chin from his grip.  You’re overtly aware of his status, of what he can do to you without a second thought.  His hand lowers down to your chest for a few moments, running over the fabric over your breasts.  “You’re so much cuter when you act like this.  You back up, stumbling slightly and cover your chest with your arms, your face heating up in anger and embarrassment from his touch.  “Oh?  Do you not want me to touch you there?  Is anywhere else also off limits?”

“Don’t be stupid, I don’t want you to touch me anywhere.”  You squirm as his hands grasp your arms.

“But what if I want to touch you?  You know I’ve been thinking about it for a while now.  I’ve been thinking about it constantly, wanting to take advantage of something so small and vulnerable like you.  Especially now that we’re alone.”  His words make your body turn ice cold before it heats up, your hands push him away as he leans in close, making you both stumble in opposite directions.  He doesn’t seem annoyed or upset, like he already expected such a move and enjoyed it.  He takes a short step forward again, one hand gripping your chin again and the other running along the side of your body.

“You’re disgusting.”

“Well, maybe I want to get more disgusting.”  His voice is taunting, his head leaning down to brush his lips along your neck, lowering the hand he had on your chin to hold the other side of your body.  He knows that the things you can do to prevent him from going further is minimal, he’s taller, stronger, and more powerful than you are or will ever be.  “Just relax…”

Your eyes close, attempting to think of other things, of different times, while he kisses your neck in various places in a way that’s far too gentle and more loving than he has any right to be.  Your hands press against his chest, a feeble attempt to push him away- both because you know better than to upset him and also know you’re far too weak to do anything.

“You shouldn’t be trying to resist me, you know what you want.”

“Don’t be disgusting.” You retort, your eyes opening to glare at a column behind Volo.  His hands rest on your hips, easily lifting you up to press your back against the column.  “Just… Just be quick, I don’t want this to take longer than it has to.”  His laughter at your request was loud and boisterous, echoing all around you.  “You’re too loud, be quiet while you do this.  I don’t want to be reminded that someone I thought was friend is raping me.”

“So, what, you don’t think we’re friends anymore?  After everything we’ve been through together?  After everything we’re going to go through together?” He asks, her breathing growing heavy and harsh in your ear as he moves his hips against yours.

“After this?  Certainly not.” She says, glaring at him as he bares himself to her, using one hand to make sure she’s against the pillar as he strokes himself.  Once he’s sufficiently satisfied with how hard he is (so hard it looks nearly painful), his hand goes to thumb over your underwear.  His grin is sickening as your hips involuntarily jerk forward as his thumb rubs over your clothed clit.

“Ah, there it is.  Your body is responding so well for me already.”

“Don’t be stupid, you’re smart enough to know that just because my body responds doesn’t mean that I like it.”

“I know that, I just don’t really care.” His voice is mocking. “It’s good enough for me to see your body enjoying what I’m doing even if you hate it.” He tugs the fabric to the side, wiping his spit against his fingers and rubbing your slit with it.  You’re dry, dry enough to where it would be unpleasant for him, so it’s not for your pleasure.  He presses his red, sensitive tip in for a split second as though he just wants to see a reaction from you.

“H-Hey!” You shout, tensing up and pushing against his chest.

“What?  You don’t have to worry, I’m not going to do anything that you don’t want me to do.” He says, laughing as he presses again, more going in this time.  His groan is directly in your ear.

“Volo, knock it off.”

“What, I thought you just wanted me to be quick.” He says, taunting you as he bottoms out in you with a loud, exaggerated moan.  You look away and cringe, pain racing through you for a split second as he pierces your unprepared cunt.  He’s not large and not thick, but the fact that you’re still unprepared makes it feel bigger than it ever could be.  His laugh is monstrous as you clench around him.  He’s smart enough to know that your body’s reactions are automatic and not a sign that you enjoy it in the slightest.  “I’m disgusting and you hate it and that only makes me want it even more, it makes me want to be slow.  But for you, princess, I’ll be quick…  But you have to talk to me- tell me how much you love this.”

“N-Ngh, you asshole.” You say, his thumb tracing circles on your clit in various patterns as his thrusts get more technical, as though he’s trying to figure out how to best get your body to react.  “I’m not saying anything that will inflate your bullshit ego.”

“Say my name and tell me you like it and then I’ll cum and leave you be.” He says, seeming to not care at all at the insults you throw at him.  He grins at you, his canines showing.

You sniffle and close your eyes, counting to 10 to calm down before your eyes flutter open.  “Volo, I like it.” You say through gritted teeth, it is so clear that its a lie.

“You can’t hide it- your body is clearly loving it.  Now, put some real effort into it, tell me exactly what you know I want to hear.”

“Don’t make me say it again, please.”

“If you don’t say what I want to hear, I’ll keep going.”

“I love it, Volo.  It feels so fucking good, don’t hurt at all.  I just wanna feel you cum, please cum in my cunt.”  You whimper in discomfort and pain when he twitches in your pained pussy, his legs tensing and his hands gripping you tighter.

“Oh, you are definitely lying to me, friend.” He says between his grunts, “But it’s fine, it just shows me how absolutely pathetic you are.  Don’t disappoint with this next part, tell me I’m making you feel good and I promise it’ll all be over.”

You force a pained, watery smile as you struggle to maintain eye contact.  You produce fake moans that make your cheeks turn red and feel gross. “Feels so good…”

“There we go…” Volo says. “Now that’s more like it.  I know it hurts, I can see it in your eyes.  You’re crying because of how much it hurts, because of how much you hate this- I love that, I really do.  The look in your eyes, the sound of your whimpering, it’s all mine and you can’t get it back.”

“Wait, please-!” You start and finish, unable to stop him from cumming.

“Good girl.” He taunts. “Now you have a reminder of it all with you.  How do you feel?”

“I feel like shit and I hate you, Volo.”

[reikaniichan]

doodle /

“…what— how did you get so small??”

“treats pls”

[bg-brainrot]

Day 8 of the BG3 Holiday Challenge with some found family <3

Prompt: Chosen Family

Featuring: Astarion x Rogue!Tav

Series: Fits into Love at First Knife, AO3 link here

Premise: You don’t have any family left in Baldur’s Gate, so when it comes time to celebrate Midwinter, you invite the family you do have: all of your old companions that can make it. Shadowheart, Gale, Halsin, and a few others join you for a meal and gift exchange. 

Tags: POV Second Person, Gender-Neutral Pronouns, Fluff, Holidays, post-canon, chosen family, extended family of ragtag adventurers, even volo is included

Word count: ~1.4k

“My dear, I’m afraid that staring at the clock won’t make our guests arrive any faster.” You turn to see Astarion standing at the doorway to your drawing room, holding a stack of letters. He’s dressed impeccably in his holiday best, even sporting a small red poinsettia in his lapel. Initially, he’d resisted the festive addition, but you reminded him that, while mild, a poinsettia is poisonous. Not a moment later the flower had found its way into his outfit.

You’re also adorned festively, a bright branch of holly weaved into your belt. Dressed to impress and ready to party for the Midwinter celebration, all that’s left are your guests– which aren’t due for another ten minutes. You sigh at Astarion’s words, knowing that he’s right. “How else am I supposed to spend the time?”

Astarion walks over to your seat on the coach and hands you half of the stack of letters. “Well, I figured this might be a fantastic opportunity to make sure we had an accurate headcount. In case we need to ask Gale to conjure any chairs.”

You take the letters gratefully and pat the seat next to you. He sits and you begin to sort through the papers. “Good idea, let’s see…” The first letter is from Alfira. It’s a lovely little letter, thanking you for the invitation, detailing her Midwinter plans with Lakrissa, and ending with a short little poem for the holiday. “Alfira already had plans.”

“Oh good,” Astarion says with a small clap. “I don’t think my poor ears could take yet another rendition of the Twelve Days of Midwinter.” He waves the letter in his hand as he follows up with, “Rolan also already had plans, something about Cal and Lia wanting to travel for the holiday.”

“Maybe we should have done that,” you say to Astarion, filled with more dread at hosting a party for your closest friends than you’ve had fighting any monster.

He knows you don’t really mean it, but agrees anyway. “We still have time to escape! I hear the feywild has some lovely weather.”

“How would we get to the feywild?” you ask, taking a look at the next letter in your stack.

“I don’t know, we’d figure it out,” he responds, before rolling his eyes at the letter he’s holding. “Why did you even invite Volo?”

You shrug, honestly unsure what compelled you. “He seems lonely, I guess?”

“Well, he’s still a yes,” Astarion says, grimacing.

“Good, I suppose.” You wave the letter in your hand at him, before adding, “Dame Aylin and Isobel can’t make it. Something about seeing Midwinter's arrival in each others’ arms.”

“But of course. We could have done the same, you know.” 

Your love gives you a suggestive look, which you smack with your next letter. “Stop tempting me! I know we can do this, and apparently the guests we do have are looking forward to it. Remember, Gale’s immediate yes? He’s even bringing Tara.”

“Do you suppose she requires her own chair?” Astarion asks, tapping his chin with what could only be Shadowheart’s letter, its writing neat and flowing.

“I think I already took her into account for chairs.” You’re positive you had, lest you offend the great Tara. “Is that Shadowheart’s response? Did she send an update?”

Astarion looks down at the letter, as if he'd forgotten that he was holding it. “Let's see. It says, ‘Don't worry, I'm still able to make it. Is it alright if I bring the owlbear? I wasn't able to find someone to watch him.'"

You stare at Astarion who only stares back. You break the silence to ask the question on both of your minds, "Where will we put him?"

"Perhaps Gale can shrink him for the night?"

"Good idea," you say with a nod and move on to the next letter in your stack. It's a short missive from Dammon. An appreciative message, though he already has Midwinter plans as well. “Dammon was a no.”

Your love smirks, giving you a knowing look. “Likely because Karlach couldn’t make it. Still can’t make it I take it?”

“Karlach and Wyll gratefully declined,” you say, holding up their letter. It’s been written quickly, has some scorched edges, and smells deeply of sulfur– truly no mystery as to why they couldn’t make it. “But Halsin said he would be here.”

"Someone, who I think is Withers, just sent back 'no'. Hmm." Astarion looks at the small piece of parchment containing the singular word and holds it up to you. “Why did you invite Withers? Scratch that, how did you invite Withers?”

You simply raise a shoulder in a noncommittal shrug and say, “It felt rude not to invite him.”

He looks at you for a second, as if pondering whether or not it’s worth digging into the ‘how’ when a knock sounds at the door. “Oh, I suppose our first guest has arrived. Would you like to wager on who it might be?”

“Why bother,” you say with a snort, setting aside the rest of the stack and heading to the door. “We both know it’s Gale.”

Astarion laughs at your confident proclamation, and laughs even harder when you open the door to a smiling wizard, dressed in what can only be considered a holiday robe, lit up with faerie lights. Tara stands next to him, proudly wearing a red ribbon.

“Welcome! Come in, come in,” you say, waving him into your house. Once they’ve entered, you give Gale a hearty hug and Tara a small bow, which she seems to appreciate. After you take his coat and they settle in, Astarion serves them both a drink, a wine for Gale, a bowl of broth for Tara.

You spend some time talking and catching up until your next guests arrive with a soft knock. 

At the door is Shadowheart, wearing a markedly less ostentatious holiday outfit, a simple green sweater with silver pants, followed closely by a large owlbear. After a quick bit of magic from Gale, they both make their way inside to warm hugs and their own drinks. 

They’re just about sitting down when another knock comes.

The night continues in much the same fashion as Halsin arrives, then Volo, then Jaheira with several of her children in tow. Then, just when you think no one else will arrive, Minsc shows up with Boo wearing a single jolly bell.

The entire group settles in for drinks, food, and merriment, discussing all that they’ve been up to since you’ve last gotten together. The company is lively, the atmosphere warm, and you’re immensely satisfied with the outcome of your efforts as you finally take a seat next to Astarion. You begin to wonder why you were worried about hosting this at all.

Ahead of the party, you hadn’t received a response from Lae’zel. She was likely too busy in the Astral Plane to respond, so you tried not to think too much of it. However, partway through the night you receive a message from her through a Sending spell: “This is Lae’zel. Apologies, I’m indisposed. I’ve been informed Midwinter is a celebration, so consider this my celebratory message.”

You laugh and send your own message back, “Thank you, Lae’zel. Hope to see you for the next one!”

Astarion smiles at you once you relay the message to the group, squeezing your hand in his. He knew you’d been worried about her despite it all, and knowing that she, too, was alive and safe would finally set your mind at ease. And it did– like something that was missing finally clicked into place and you could just breathe.

You knew that not everyone would be able to make it, and you’re still not confident in your hosting abilities, but somehow, you’re still so very content. Something about sitting in a room with your love, your closest friends, and even Volo, fills you with so much hope for the upcoming spring.

When the group lifts their glasses to cheer for all that you’ve accomplished this year, the trials and tribulations you’ve overcome together, you can’t help but add, “And to the family we’ve made along the way. May we always find our way back to one another!”

The night passes in a haze of joy and love– somehow, by the end of it, you've agreed to host again next year. You can feel Astarion's amusement as he chuckles and holds you close.

[reds-fluff-extravaganza]

Immortal!Volo x reader

Takes place in my unnamed immortal AU!

Ever since the Giratina incident, Arceus had punished Volo by giving him Giratina genes, which caused him to become immortal in the process. While he wasn’t very pleased with this, there was someone who still loved him, regardless of everything he has done. And that person was: Y/n. They still loved him, despite everything he’s ever done, so of course he loved them, kept them safe from harm and those who would try to take them away from him, and he was happy for once.

However… there was one problem: Volo is an immortal. Y/n is not. He knew Y/n would eventually leave him due to mortality, and he did everything he could to keep them alive for as long as possible. Volo was devastated when his beloved Y/n had passed away, and this had caused him to go into a deep depression, so much so that he shut himself out from the rest of the world. It took him years to recover and make his way back into society, but when that happened, everything was changing. It would take time for him to get used to everything, but he would.

Volo sighed softly as he walked through the streets of Jubilife, his hands in his pockets. He was just trying to get home before anyone would bother him, but that was interrupted as felt someone bump into him. He looked down to see who had bumped into him, but his eyes widened. He saw someone with (length), (h/c) hair, (e/c) eyes, and an (outfit of choice), which reminded him of his beloved Y/n. He was so in shock that he blurted out,

“Y/n..?” You looked up at the blond male, a confused, yet surprised look on your face. How did this man know your name..?

“How.. how do you know my name?” You slowly stood up, taking a step back as you took in his features.

“I…” Volo shook his head, sighing softly. “Sorry, you just… remind me of someone, that’s all.”

“Oh, you.. aren’t the first to tell me that.” You rubbed the back of your head. Yet… he looked familiar to you, but you just couldn’t put your finger on the reason as to why.

“Where are you headed?” He asked you, as if to change the subject.

“Oh, uh, I’m just… going home. It is getting dark after all.” You shrugged in response.

“I could walk you home at least?” As much as he didn’t want to admit it, he didn’t want to say goodbye to you just yet. Not after just finding who he could guess was Y/n’s descendant or reincarnation.

“Well… alright.” You knew you should be weary of him, considering you two had just bumped into each other and didn’t know each other, but you wanted to know him a bit better.

“Let’s go, then.” You nodded and walked alongside Volo, taking in his appearance better as you walked. On his wrists, ankles, and around his neck, it looked like he had golden half rings around them, his one eye you could see was a silvery grey color, and he had a few markings on his arms, which you couldn’t really make out unless his sleeves rolled up when he walked or moved them when he talked. He also had his hands covered by a pair of dark gloves, which you thought was a little odd but you chose not to question it. You thought he was an interesting person, yet you had a feeling he was also a dangerous one as well.

Volo could tell you were taking in his appearance, and had a feeling you were trying to get a grasp on him altogether. He didn’t want to scare you away or anything, so he would have to show you that he’s not the dangerous man that everyone thought he was. Well, at least, not like he used to be.

“Y/n.”

“Hmm?” You looked up at the blond male once more.

“…does the name ‘Volo’ ring any bells to you..? Does it sound familiar to you at all?” He had briefly glanced at you. He had to at least ask you. He wanted to know if you had any memories of him at all.

“The name… does sound a little familiar, but I don’t know why. I most likely heard it around the village, that may be it.”

“I see…” he couldn’t tell you yet. He would wait as long as it takes, he didn’t care. “Well, it doesn’t really matter. I was simply curious.”

“Oh, alright then.” You two walked in silence for a few moments.

“How did you know my name, by the way?”

“Hmm?” Volo looked back at you once more.

“When we bumped into each other, you said my name. How did you know that?”

“Oh, that.” He had to think of something quick before you get suspicious. “I’ve seen you around before and I’ve heard the villagers say your name.”

“Have you now..?”

“I have.”

“If you say so..”

“I do say so.”

“I’ve never seen you around though..”

“Oh, I live a little away from the village, but I come here for things I need.” Volo figured you would ask him a bunch of questions, but he would answer them as best he could, anyway. The two of you kept walking, you asking him questions, and him answering them, as well talking about things that came to mind. That is, until you suddenly stopped.

“Oh, here we are.” You spoke up, taking a step forward. “Thank you for walking me home… Volo.” Volo flinched as you said his name. How did you figure it out..? Before he could think to ask, you had made your way inside the house, turning to wave at him before closing the door.

“Heh.. I’ll see you around, Y/n.” And with that, he turned to leave, making his way home as well, happy to have found his beloved once more.

[legacyshenanigans]

Marvolo stepped back, wiping the light sweat from his face with the back of his hand. He stared at the 'art ' before, a body he'd performed the Blood Eagle on.

Marvolo: Beautiful.

He whispered to himself as a smile fell over his features. Rowan entered, looking at the body as he made his way over to Marvolo.

Rowan: This what you've been down 'ere doin' this whole time?

Marvolo: Yes..

They stood in silence for a moment longer, just staring at the corpse.

Rowan: For what though?

Marvolo shrugged,

Marvolo: I don't know.. I find it therapeutic. The human form is so fascinating, what lies under the skin. The different layers of flesh, the beautiful deep red against the off-white of bone. *satisfied sigh* I read about this particular punishment in a book. I've always wanted to try it.. I can say I'm not disappointed. It's stunning. True art.

Rowan: Heh.. You a pretty weird guy, Volo. For seein' art.

Marvolo: I see a gruesome, beautiful display of the human form like this and see art. YOU see the human form and see a snack.. I think it's safe to say we're both "weird" Rowan.

~

[leggerefiore]

A cute thought is taking ur pokebf out clothes shopping and letting him pick out pieces for you.

Ingo would try so hard to find something that matches your preferences and style, but may just throw in a few things that he likes and hopes you will, too. He worries too much that you will think his choices show a lack of understanding in you. (He would love to wear something like matching outfits with you. It is just in his nature.)

Emmet immediately picks out things that almost certainly shouldn't be worn in public and whines when you tell him no. He then tries to pick things out similar to what he usually sees you wear. Though, a few personal preferences by him are tossed in. (Joltik t-shirt or sweater. He likes seeing you dressed up in something that connects you both in some way.)

Cyrus has no idea what he is doing and just tries to give you more money to let you pick instead. Upon being forced, he picks out things that seem like they would compliment you well or are quite functional over style. Then, he pulls out something with an obvious sci-fi space inspiration. (He has no idea what he is doing and just wishes that something that appeases you can be found quickly. If you actually wear the sci-fi space outfit, he is genuinely stricken and impressed.)

Nanu grumbles and picks out a random t-shirt at the boutique in Malie. He has no idea how to shop for himself half the time, so it's worse for others. If he's feeling a certain way, he might pull out lingerie and cock a brow up. You will have to take over from him. (He offers a specific t-shirt with a Meowth on it. He does genuinely like it and would want to see you wear it.)

N is admittedly not the most familiar with clothes shopping and spends way too long contemplating how to do it. Your tastes are going to be slightly misunderstood to him since he is not the most aware of fashion, either. He ultimately picks out something he thinks is nice and offers it to you in the hopes you will like it. (It's something cute and sweet. Please wear it. He tried his best.)

Larry picks you out a wonderful office wear outfit. You will be able to look like a working professional in no time at all. He shrugs when you ask for something different. He's lost that piece of himself, and there's no regaining it, alas. (He doesn't really feel bothered if you wear it or don't. He knows his performance was just adequate. Would be pleasantly surprised if you did, though.)

Volo instead offers you his own wares. Well, actually, on Pasio, he is quite intrigued by the offerings on the stores. He almost disappears for far too long to pop out with something that is eerily exactly to your tastes and preferences. Congratulations. (He is quite proud of his talent of reading people and knowing them well. His smugness almost lingers in the air when you wear what he picked out.)