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theexaltedmoon · 2 years

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(Fic Preview)

The Price of Falling Short of Perfection (Volo x Reader)

I have been stashing this fic away for a long time. School work and the like got in the way of me finishing it. I am posting this as a preview because I am proud of what I dished up so far. If I feel like I can continue onward, I will finish the full fic at a later date. That being said, this fic is a longer one for me. There is going to be a lot of trigger warnings. This fic is not a super happy feel good one, and I just wanted to put that out there because I know Volo is a mixed bag. Volo is deliberately awful here and is not cutesy or loving. He is just obsessed. With all this, keep the trigger warnings in mind and stay safe. Skip this one if you rather stick to the feel good fics.

Volowins!AU

As said on Ao3 DEAD DOVE: Do not Eat

Word Count: 1,795

TW: non-con/dub-con (just gonna put that out there right now), NSFW, Angst, technically minor character death, degradation, death threats (to both you and Adaman), jealousy, choking, spitting, generally rough handling of the reader, Volo straight up mocks you,

In hindsight, maybe you should have seen this coming, but it only seemed like yesterday that you two were partaking in a casual pokémon battle. His togepi and your trusted partner. Little pokémon clumsily tumbling into one another until the chipper togepi dizzily spun and hit the ground. Volo. From the miraculous way he trailed behind you everywhere you went on your adventures across the Hisui region, you may have felt a bit hesitant every time you saw his blue and gold hat off in the distance, but you shook it off as soon as he greeted you with that eager smile, friendly wave of an arm, and the way he called you his “favorite customer.” Truthfully, you felt the heat upon your cheeks and in the pit of your stomach whenever he called you that. Even when he crouched down into the tall grass, his arm just barely brushing against your own, little hairs stood up at attention as tingles ran up and down your spine. You were too distracted to realize that the patented “Secret Back Strike technique” – his words, not yours – was catching innocent pokémon unaware and unfairly too.

You remembered when the rift refused to close after calming the Lord Avalugg, and the people of Jubilife Village cast you out into the wilderness without a second thought. Even Diamond Clan and Pearl Clan had refused to shelter you. It was only him that came to your aid as you sat alone amongst the grasses and reeds. He took you to the Ancient Retreat and even offered to heal your beaten and bruised pokémon. Volo was the only constant you had left in your new, perilous life. So, you had ignored how at first glance his smile beheld little semblance of genuine joy, you had ignored how he was constantly asking you about your pursuit of the different plates held by the noble pokémon, and you had ignored his eagerness and reverence in the way he had muttered Arceus’s name beneath his breathe like a prayer. No, you chose to ignore all of these aspects about the man with golden hair that shone bright beneath the sun’s light and the mirthful slate-colored eyes, and for what reason but to nurture the possibility he would continue to be a part of your life.

So, you had come to the conclusion that, in hindsight, it really should not have come as a surprise to see him standing in the center of the former temple of Sinnoh donned in regalia befitting Arceus’s chosen hero. He stood with arms crossed over his chest and a sneering smirk adorning his face. It should not have stirred up an anxious twinge in your chest, the way he threatened to create a new world of his own. Instead, it should have stirred up a righteous fury within the hearth of your heart, and you should have boldly taken a stand against the man who threatened everything so dear to you and the people of Jubilife Village. However, memories of the goofy photo of Volo pointing at the camera with Togepi in the window of photography studio flashed through your head like the strike of lightning, and your heart wilted beneath the pressure of his manic gaze that once held such fondness for legends and lore. Hesitant to pull your partner’s pokeball from your satchel, you put on a brave face and shook your head with renewed vigor before calling out your first pokémon.

And so, with the weight of a heavy heart the battle for the world raged on…

---

Oh, Arceus, it was all over.

It was all over, and you knew it was over when the looming shadow of Giratina stood in front of Volo with the very last of your pokémon clenched between its wicked jaws. Across from you, Volo held himself in high esteem with the smirk he flashed you earlier widening to an unbelievable degree, but that was who Volo was: the glameow who got the cream. And you – oh, poor, miserable you – were standing there smacked dumb with disbelief as the limp body of your pokémon slid out of the forgotten renegade’s mouth and onto the stony marble below with a deafening thud. Volo lazily looked up to Giratina before his gaze dreamily drifted back to you. You could just hear the maniacally chuckle building from the back of his throat as you took on a wide defensive stance in response. However, he was not to be deterred by such a last resort. Volo took his time sizing you up; eyes traveled from your face and slowly making their way over every crevice and surface before snapping up to meet your vision once more. He put forward a confident step, hips swaying with a bit more “sass” than they usually featured. It had just occurred you that you should move whether it be fleeing or fighting, but it was the predatory twinkling in his eye that kept you glued to your spot.

“Giratina, leave us. I need to have a word with Arceus’s chosen one. I will call to you once we have finished our conversation here,” he waved a single hand up at his eldritch companion whilst addressing it, those eyes never once strayed from your prone form. Giratina without any resistance disappeared into the night without any indication of it ever being there to begin with.

“Now, where were we?” His finger tapped upon his chin dutifully, musing to himself. “Oh, Y/N, be a dear and hand over those remaining plates, hm? Perhaps if you are hasty and behave, I shall spare you the humiliation of a drawn-out death by the claws of Giratina.”

“Oh…” The lies hidden beneath the words of his proposition did not evade you, but for whatever reason his words rung hollow within your ear. Instead, you continued to stare up into those stormy eyes one final time in some sort of mockery of defiance, but the strings of your heart snapped even as you committed to that one simple action. You were hard pressed to fend off any lingering flutters of gratefulness and affection that longed for him to draw closer even as he betrayed you so openly. Your brain was rioting while your heart was screeching out in agony. It pleaded with you to give into your inner weakness and surrender the plates to your former friend: the man that truly deserved to possess them.

And why shouldn’t you surrender all of the plate to him? After all, he knew so much more about the legends of Hisui, he knew about Arceus and its grand power to change the world, and he experienced just how horrible the world was firsthand. It was amidst the storm in his eyes and the storm in your heart that you collapsed to the ground with the caps of your knees thudding harshly against the floor. The unpolished rubble dug into the soft flesh and left little cuts and scrapes, but your thoughts were so preoccupied by your moral that you noticed none of the pain. Your gazed shifted down to the marble flooring beneath you, not even acknowledging the gold gilded sandals travelling into the rims of your peripheral vision.

“Tsk, tsk, Y/N. No matter. I will retrieve them for myself. Don’t say I wasn’t gracious with my offer,” Volo said while he circled behind you with little a pitying glance spared in your direction. Meanwhile, you were content to wallow in your self-pity and failure. You felt the shallow breaths rolling across the nape of your neck and the frantic hands that grabbed at the wrap holding the satchel across your waste. They forcefully tugged at the twine knots until the bag slid down into his eager hands. No longer held together by the wrap, the sides of your shirt fell open to the point of exposing your chest to the cold air of Mount Coronet. However, you were sure he was more preoccupied with He rested his head within the crook of his shoulder and beheld the satchel with shaking hands, but you did not notice how he smirked into the crook of your shoulder. Your first warning was the new bout of manic giggles resonating within your ears and the sudden movement of the satchel skidding across the marble flooring.

He reared back and removed himself from your person. It was only after his hand curled tightly into a fist full of hair did you start to realize the true danger you were in. Volo pulled his arm back slowly yet forcefully with purpose. It was so sudden, yet the sensation felt as if it was stuck in slow motion. The pounding of your heart. The brief flickering of your vision. Even the rise and fall of your breath quickened as you were held back in his hold, and you half expected Volo gloat his triumphant victory over you. You had not expected the rage and fury you were met with instead.

You barely found it within yourself to ask, “Wha-?”

“Is that all you have to say for your spectacular blunder? The chosen hero of Hisui – no – of the Lord Arceus themself brought to their knees, exposed, and vulnerable by none other than the might of Giratina! By me! And all you can say is ‘what?’ You are utterly pathetic! Have you no shame? Have you no dignity? What qualities does Arceus see in you that I do not already possess?” Volo rambled on without giving thought to how he held you. You felt like he was trying to get at something, but what he was playing at you could not discern. You could only wince up at him as his frantic movements continued to tug and pull your hair painfully. “Well? Answer me, Y/N!”

“Volo stop! Please!”

“No, Y/N, I need you to see that you are unworthy. You need to acknowledge what true perfection is.” He tugs again with emphasis. “Say it, Y/N. Tell me where true perfection lies!”

“N-no… I could never-” That earned you another distinctive sharp tug back that drew a hiss out of your mouth.

“Final warning. Do it or the first human I destroy is that pretty little Diamon Clan Leader right before your pretty little eyes. What was his name again? Adaman?”

“No! No, please not him!”

“Well then, you know what to do.”

It took a great effort to swallow the thick knot caught within your throat, but you manage to whisper, “You are perfection, Volo.”

“Louder.” Firm. Demanding. Hungry.

“Volo…”

“Say it louder.”

“…Volo, you are perfection.” You say in response to his request.

“And?”

You surrendered, “And you are alone are fit to take the place of Arceus.”