#akari x volo

[eev583]

Akari: I’m cold.

Volo: Here, have my jacket.

*Meanwhile*

Adaman: I’m cold.

Irida: I can’t control the weather, Adaman.

[gardenpatchbaby]

You hadn’t realized how close you had been standing to your Pokemon. It was a bad habit, really. You usually stood close enough to the battle that you could feel the heat of the flames and taste the earth that was kicked up around you. Normally in battle, these attacks weren’t aimed at you, so you could walk away relatively unscathed. Maybe it was bad luck. Maybe he meant to do it. You’d never find out.

“GIRATINA, STRIKE THEM DOWN!” There was a brief flash, and then nothing.

Volo laughed when he saw you fall. Even the Chosen of Arceus couldn’t stop him. The world would be remade. He walked forward proudly, expecting to give you some quip before taking the plates from your hands as you watched helplessly. Giratina watched from behind, savoring this moment. Arceus would pay a thousand times over for the past eons. The small mortal on the ground before him was the last obstacle, and they had fallen in one strike.

“Well, my favorite customer, time to admit defeat. Hand over the plates.” Volo smiled, stretching his hand out to accept. When you didn’t move, he simply rolled his eyes.

“Come now! No need to pout. Hand. Them. Over.”

Nothing. His tone turned icy.

“Get up.” 

Still nothing.

“Damn it! Why do you insist on making this difficult!” He reached for your arm, intending to drag you into a standing position. When he touched the skin, he jolted backwards. Why was it wet? He looked at his hand, wondering for a moment at the deep red now coating his palm. Oh. OH.

He fell to his knees, trying to assess how bad the damage was. He hadn’t meant for this to happen! Sure, sacrifices needed to be made to ensure his vision succeeded, but not this. Despite his hidden motivations, he had actually enjoyed spending time with you collecting the plates. It was truly a tragedy that Arceus had sent you to stop him, but in the back of his mind, he had planned to keep you. Maybe as a trophy. Maybe as a friend. He hadn’t decided.

Giratina had certainly done a number on you. Half of your hair had been singed, while the other half was damp and matted to your head. Blood dribbled out of your nose and mouth, and he was pretty sure he could feel shards of your ribs move when he tried to reposition you into a lying position.

He could feel Giratina’s presence behind him. A dark shadow, silently waiting, if growing a bit impatient. Volo could feel the annoyance. “What’s the holdup?” it seemed to say. He knew he should be celebrating right now. He knew he should be snatching the plates out of your bag and leaving you for the Galaxy Team to recover.

“They���re dead.” He whispered, “You killed them.”

The bastard god stood silently. The empty mountain air echoed Volo’s words back to him. Over and over, fainter each time. You killed them.

Shakily, he reached for your satchel. Even through the fabric, he could feel the plates inside, their dull divine energy stinging the tips of his fingers. He took a breath.

This was merely a minor setback. The world would soon be his to rule. He could make a thousand of you with Arceus’ power. Why was he so upset? 

Slowly, he opened the bag. He saw the plates sitting inside, arranged neatly between Pokeballs and assorted berries. It almost looked like a platter, designed just for him.

Then, there was a flash of white and red, and the bag was snatched from his hands.

[agent-gladhand]

Valentine's Day at an All-boys Dojo! Zisu is certified one of the boys because I say so.

Based off this classic:

[librarygarten]

(This was orginally posted on my main blog, @gardenpatchbaby)

You hadn’t realized how close you had been standing to your Pokemon. It was a bad habit, really. You usually stood close enough to the battle that you could feel the heat of the flames and taste the earth that was kicked up around you. Normally in battle, these attacks weren’t aimed at you, so you could walk away relatively unscathed. Maybe it was bad luck. Maybe he meant to do it. You’d never find out.

“GIRATINA, STRIKE THEM DOWN!” There was a brief flash, and then nothing.

Volo laughed when he saw you fall. Even the Chosen of Arceus couldn’t stop him. The world would be remade. He walked forward proudly, expecting to give you some quip before taking the plates from your hands as you watched helplessly. Giratina watched from behind, savoring this moment. Arceus would pay a thousand times over for the past eons. The small mortal on the ground before him was the last obstacle, and they had fallen in one strike.

“Well, my favorite customer, time to admit defeat. Hand over the plates.” Volo smiled, stretching his hand out to accept. When you didn’t move, he simply rolled his eyes.

“Come now! No need to pout. Hand. Them. Over.”

Nothing. His tone turned icy.

“Get up.” 

Still nothing.

“Damn it! Why do you insist on making this difficult!” He reached for your arm, intending to drag you into a standing position. When he touched the skin, he jolted backwards. Why was it wet? He looked at his hand, wondering for a moment at the deep red now coating his palm. Oh. OH.

He fell to his knees, trying to assess how bad the damage was. He hadn’t meant for this to happen! Sure, sacrifices needed to be made to ensure his vision succeeded, but not this. Despite his hidden motivations, he had actually enjoyed spending time with you collecting the plates. It was truly a tragedy that Arceus had sent you to stop him, but in the back of his mind, he had planned to keep you. Maybe as a trophy. Maybe as a friend. He hadn’t decided.

Giratina had certainly done a number on you. Half of your hair had been singed, while the other half was damp and matted to your head. Blood dribbled out of your nose and mouth, and he was pretty sure he could feel shards of your ribs move when he tried to reposition you into a lying position.

He could feel Giratina’s presence behind him. A dark shadow, silently waiting, if growing a bit impatient. Volo could feel the annoyance. “What’s the holdup?” it seemed to say. He knew he should be celebrating right now. He knew he should be snatching the plates out of your bag and leaving you for the Galaxy Team to recover.

“They’re dead.” He whispered, “You killed them.”

The bastard god stood silently. The empty mountain air echoed Volo’s words back to him. Over and over, fainter each time. You killed them.

Shakily, he reached for your satchel. Even through the fabric, he could feel the plates inside, their dull divine energy stinging the tips of his fingers. He took a breath.

This was merely a minor setback. The world would soon be his to rule. He could make a thousand of you with Arceus’ power. Why was he so upset? 

Slowly, he opened the bag. He saw the plates sitting inside, arranged neatly between Pokeballs and assorted berries. It almost looked like a platter, designed just for him.

Then, there was a flash of white and red, and the bag was snatched from his hands.

[charbon-et-eau]

I sketched a couple smooches based on this kiss prompt thing from twitter. Volokari air kiss and Geeta/Rika shoulder kiss to start.

There will be more.

(original prompt list under the cut)

Here's the original prompt list! Taken from here: https://twitter.com/Bettsyversum/status/1606228178715885568

[sweet-hearts-and-destiny-knots]

What was the big ‘Oh I’m in love with this person’ moment? For both sides of the equation.

Since there are so many pairings within Sisterhood, I'll simply select three in particular for this response:

🤎Conflictingshipping🤎

It's rather difficult to pinpoint exactly when the realization occurred, but Leaf has loved Green for a very long time - ever since they were children dreaming of travel.

He was a different boy back then, or rather he was far less obnoxious. Dare I say perhaps sweet? He gave Leaf all his time, attention, and an assortment of promises he intended to keep.

Green vowed that, once the two of them received their first partner Pokémon, they would journey across Kanto together, and someday the world, as husband and wife.

Unfortunately, his ego grew to a detrimental degree sometime after reaching his teens, and Green doesn't realize he loves Leaf until he's lost her. It requires a great deal of apology and pleading to convince Leaf to leave Mt. Silver.

Once she's returned to his life, Green makes every effort to amend for his previous behavior and broken promises. When a mysterious map falls into their possession, perhaps this will be the adventure the two can finally embark on together as partners.

🤎HoennChampionshipping🤎

Steven develops feelings for Haruka and recognizes them relatively swiftly. He's far too polite to ever complain outwardly on the matter, but he's become accustomed to women fawning over him because of his wealth, status, and attractive appearance.

However, Haruka is different. When in her company, he isn't heir to the Devon Corporation, the Hoenn League Champion, and the region's most eligible bachelor. He's simply Steven, the young man with an interest in collecting stones.

It takes Haruka a while longer to fall for this stunning male specimen. Their relationship is rather platonic from her point of view, as she manages to frequently misinterpret his various attempts at making his affections known. Steven suddenly traveling to another region without giving her the opportunity to say goodbye following the Delta Episode does not do him any favors.

He also refrains from calling her during this time since he fears her reaction to his letter, earning appalled ones from Wallace and Lisia. With their assistance, he learns how best to reconcile with Haruka. And it takes a little more than a Poké Doll or a few.

Steven offers to go on an adventure with her, to investigate the undersea ruins past Pacifidlog Town. When he proves to her this isn't simply a gesture to pacify her frustration but an activity he's enjoying alongside her, Haruka finally begins to see what's so special about Hoenn's silver-haired dreamboat, Steven Stone.

🤎Wieldershipping🤎

From the first meeting, Volo knows he loves Akari. Anyone who would wish to remove all suffering from the world must be at least somewhat of a romantic. But his justification for these abrupt feelings is possibly surprisingly poignant: If Akari is hated for no discernible reason, why can he not love?

However, her first impression does leave a strong impact. From the way her head remains held high in defiance even when surrounded by the whispers of the villagers to her pleasantly plump figure, she captures Volo's intrigue and his heart. Then as the two of them speak, that sharp gaze of hers softens ever so slightly.

Akari also acquires his Togepi's attention. She hides her face against his chest when in the presence of others, but Akari's aura coaxes the Spike Ball Pokémon to turn around in her Wielder's arms. Were Volo not already awed, he certainly would be following this feat.

It takes Akari considerably longer to return his affections. Nearly no one, and not excluding Volo himself, believes she could do so after what occurs on Mount Coronet's summit. But Volo experiences an epiphany: Akari is the greatest force of good he's ever encountered, and by dedicating his life to her happiness, he can aid in the creation of a better, kinder world.

Volo's sentiments towards Arceus have shifted to indifference and his devotion to her runs deeper. With persistence, Volo leaves little room for doubt in Akari's mind the tender moments they shared prior to his betrayal weren't mere fabrications.

She's eventually forced to acknowledge that, due to them originating from different time periods, Akari may have been in denial of her own feelings of fondness all along.

[franstastic-ideas]

Being a Volo x Akari shipper that's squicked out by the dead dove stuff is like trying to navigate a minefield.

On one side of the minefield, there's people who automatically assume my work must be dead dove as well because I enjoy the pairing, and even though my Akari is aged up, they still equate this with a certain word which starts with 'p' and ends in 'a' when it is quite literally the opposite.

On the other side of the minefield, there's the producers and consumers of the dead dove stuff who approach me believing the reason why I age up Akari is because I'm simply nervous about engaging with such material and need to be liberated from the antis.

"It's okay. You can write about that stuff. It's just fiction, and the age gap makes it spicier."

Just because I can write about something doesn't mean I want to.

The reason why I dislike the dead dove stuff so, so much is it completely goes against the core of Volo's character - a man who was driven mad by the atrocities that exist in the world. Not to mention how these works reduce Akari to a helpless damsel.

Akari could have killed Volo if she wanted to, easily, and gotten away with it too - and I will die on this hill.

(And what sounds "spicy" to me is Akari being two years older than Volo so he should use the -senpai honorific when referring to her, but he swaps it out for -sama instead because he's totally lovesick-)

And that's not even getting into what occurs when you add wanting Volo to be redeemed into the equation.

What exactly is so offensive about acknowledging Volo's nuance and then allowing him to learn from his mistakes and receive a happy new beginning with the woman he loves?

In all honesty, both sides of the minefield infuriate me in equal measure.

[itsnothingnowiguess]

Very late but happy new years

[hauntedtrousers]

I Got Sent Back In Time By God And All I Got Was This Lousy Arc Phone

Starting a new fic!!!! It'll get a little intense, so read the tags and stay safe.

Summary:

One day you wake up on a beach in your pajamas to a strange old man telling you that you fell out of the sky. When you take in your surroundings, you find you've been transported against your will back in time to the Hisui era with nothing but the clothes on your back and a strange phone. Now to survive, you must work with the Galaxy Team as a Survey Corps member to earn your keep, while also uncovering the mystery of why you were dropped here in the first place. you'll make many new friends, but also lots of enemies. It won't be easy, but hey, at least the tall handsome merchant said he'll help you, right?

[eev583]

Akari: I was wondering... what if we went to dinner– not as friends this time?

Volo: I do think we'd make dreadful enemies, if that's what you're implying. Akari:

[chloeji]

I have illustrated original characters in various artists’ style such as Take(竹), Haruko Ichikawa, and Yusuke Ohmura.

Anthamia and Isbert are designed in  Take(竹) ‘s style who have designed Adaman and Irida.

Platy is designed in Haruko Ichikawa’s style who have designed Melli. Her eye shapes are referenced from Red Beryl from Land of Lustrous. 

Maize and Vera are designed in Yusuke Ohmura’s style who have designed Volo, Rye, Rei and Akari.  

[piyostoria]

(Aslinya digambar buat Lebaran kmaren)

[praazlwurm]

Fandom: Pocket Monsters | Pokemon - All Media Types, Pokemon Legends: Arceus (Video Game)

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death Relationships: Shou | Akari/Volo Summary:

Three years have passed since the blood of the heavens blotted out the sun. The lost rift-borne must be found, the merchant must be redeemed, and the court of Nobles will be convened with a familiar, old mission in mind: Quell the three frenzied divinities at the Temple of Sinnoh.

Chapter 1: a cornered and wounded beast

The first day scarlet spilled across the sky, Commander Kamado clapped Akari in chains.

On the third, he marched for Mount Coronet.

In the time between, her captain protested viciously, bodily blocking the man from taking the girl to the basement cells. She railed, condemned, and threatened desertion. Akari, having finally overcome her shock, proclaimed herself capable of quelling whatever resided at the peak.

A mistake.

Cyllene had drawn quiet at Akari's back, and as the silence stretched she turned to see the captain's stoic face contorted with internal conflict. Between keeping her free and keeping her safe.

A mistake.

Speaking over Akari's panicked wails, her captain assured her the corps would return intact, if not successful. Ordered her to remain in the village, protect their own, and wait.

"Fuck your orders," Akari spat, rattling the bars impotently, divested of supplies and the support of her team. In her pique, she threw herself away from the front of the cell with a final cry, "and fuck you for following them!"

A mistake, because it would be the last thing she ever said to Cyllene.

Kamado ordered Beni to stay behind, keeping the village and Akari in line and fed. The man had adopted an ancient, pale outfit and mask and taken station in Galaxy Hall as one of the few remaining corps members in Jubilife.

A mistake, because the corps did not return intact.

Nor successful.

On the fifth day, through cracked lips and a hoarse throat, she asks Beni,

“Where the hell is everyone?”

The man squints at her over the line of his white mask, somehow looking both younger and more world-worn with the bottom half of his face covered, his eyes dull. He bends to set down a plate of fried mochi and a jug of water, taking his sweet time collecting the previous’ meals dishes.

“Commander Kamado has directed the Security corpsmen to Mo–”

“I fucking know that,” Akari snarls, sitting up from a slouch against the stone wall. The cell is one in a row, all iron bars and shallow bedframes, and likely on the northern face of the hall, considering she can only see the swell of grassy hills – and a hint of the eerie, carmine sky – from the iron-barred window. She throws her legs over the side of the raised futon frame and glowers at the cook-turned-keeper, an expression he returns. “I mean everyone else. I could hear footsteps till this morning.”

The old man’s face curls in a sneer she can’t see, matched only by the one he’d given her on first sight some months ago. “The Medical corps went with them, you little fool. Cyllene sent the Survey corps north.”

Akari digs her fingers into the futon to quell a shudder. She watches as he finishes stacking plates and starts to move away from the floor-to-ceiling iron bars, then grinds out, “Beni.”

He pauses. No longer does he slouch in his guise as the humble owner of the Wallflower; this is the Commander’s lieutenant.

She weighs her words. Demanding release was a non-starter, as were threats, screaming, and bargaining; all attempted over the course of the last two days, all had failed.

“Are you… were you ordered to keep this,” she gestures once, sharpish, with her chin, “a secret?”

[charbon-et-eau]

Volo/Dawn/Cynthia. The ot3 of all time. This might be one of my favorite things that I've ever drawn.

Aug 2022.

Btw, I typically see Akari and Dawn as the same person so I usually use their names interchangeably. But it's cool if people have separate headcanons for them. I'm just too lazy to think of two separate personalities for visually identical characters. Dawn just had some time travel induced brain scramblies and forgot her name for a bit.

[sweet-hearts-and-destiny-knots]

Volo's favorite words to hear from Akari besides, "I love you, Volo." are, "Never forget that you are mine."

The possessiveness has a profound effect on his heart.

[naokoshadowspectrum]

Volo! NOOOOO!!

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