Emergency Commissions Opened for Character Letters!
Pricing:
$10 for 1000 word letter
$15 for NSFT 1000 word letter
Payment:
Payment is due upfront and through PayPal/Venmo.
Fandoms:
Mystic Messenger
Demon Slayer
Jujutsu Kaisen
Genshin Impact
My Hero Academia
Overwatch
Kingdom Hearts
Fullmetal Alchemist
Harvest Moon/Story of Seasons
Stardew Valley
Danganronpa
Bleach
several others!! Please message me and ask if you do no see a fandom you are interested in listed.
If you’re interested please contact me through my tumblr, my email [email protected], or my Discord raptor#5263! Letters will be provided in a shared Google Doc. My Ko-Fi is here if you’d like to help me at all, and you can see examples of my work here!
Emergency Commissions Opened for Character Letters!
Pricing:
$10 for 1000 word letter
$15 for NSFT 1000 word letter
Payment:
Payment is due upfront and through PayPal/Venmo.
Fandoms:
Mystic Messenger
Demon Slayer
Jujutsu Kaisen
Genshin Impact
My Hero Academia
Overwatch
Kingdom Hearts
Fullmetal Alchemist
Harvest Moon/Story of Seasons
Stardew Valley
Danganronpa
Bleach
several others!! Please message me and ask if you do no see a fandom you are interested in listed.
If you’re interested please contact me through my tumblr, my email [email protected], or my Discord raptor#5263! Letters will be provided in a shared Google Doc. My Ko-Fi is here if you’d like to help me at all, and you can see examples of my work here!
characters: albedo, childe, diluc, kaeya, xiao, & zhongli
reader: gn!reader
warnings: none. be warned that it’s april fools, but in all serious: none.
a/n: absolutely an april fools series of headcanons. please do not take these seriously.
albedo
at random times, you get the creepiest feeling about your boyfriend. you can never put your finger on it though.
the unsettling feeling always lurks and you feel almost guilty. it’s not a flight or fight response, nor is it a ‘this dude is weird’ type of feeling. rather, it’s just an odd feeling, like something is off about him.
you’ve never been able to place a finger on it until one day, you keep rubbing at your eye because something is in it. after blinking numerous times, the itchy feeling finally goes away, but you then look at your boyfriend’s eyes, wondering if he saw your little struggle.
albedo didn’t notice, completely transfixed in his book. you stare at him a bit longer. eyes… you think and your mystery is solved.
you now understand why he unsettles you at times.
you watch him in fascination as he reads his book, flipping the pages. you watch him for what feels like eons before you can’t take it anymore. you choose to burst out your revelation about him.
“you don’t blink!” you declare, having thoroughly decided that that was the issue with your otherwise lovely boyfriend.
albedo looks up at you slowly. he makes eye contact with you. and, of course, he blinks.
“what?” the blonde asks confusedly, blinking once more. you let out a deflated little sigh as his blinking schedule appears to go back to normal.
maybe next time you could record a video on your kamera and show him.
Request by @usuratonkachiuchiha: Okay I know I already requested for Ichi but with the lack of bleach content nowadays I CANT HELP MYSEEEELFFF 😭 Can I request another one for the 2k special ? This time from choice #1 prompts 4,7,12 again with love of my life Ichigo <3 I just love him too much ugh I understand if you have too many requests so no pressure, love u , and again congrats on the milestone 💖
You can request as many Bleach scenarios as you like. 😘 I love the Bleach men and I’m always happy to write for them. Sorry this took so long to get out. 🥺 I hope you like it. ❤️ Love you too, bby. 👏🥰
the moment they fell for you | valentine special! (part one)
includes diluc, kaeya, childe, zhongli, and xiao
g/n reader as always!
happy valentines day! i decided to write for five characters for the occasion. i hope you all enjoy the first part to the valentines special!! each part includes a song i thought fit with the character. enjoy <3
part two | they say something they don’t mean with diluc, kaeya, childe, and zhongli
— diluc
↳ soldier, poet, king, the oh hellos
diluc knows he’s fallen for you when you gingerly treat his wounds after a fight.
his words seem to be caught in his throat, watching you wrap a bandage around his leg and scold him. he doesn’t think anyone has ever been so gentle to him before — life for him has always been harsh and strict.
but not with you.
“what were you thinking? i’m always reminding you to be careful, diluc, you know this. do i have to start chaperoning you?” you look up at him expectantly, blinking in surprise at the softness covering his face. “uh, diluc?”
he nods after a moment, clearing his throat. “i suppose that’s not a bad idea, is it?” he suggests, smiling lightly at the exasperation in your gaze. “i’m only joking, you know. i’ve no need for a chaperone.”
“well, from the way you’ve been acting, you clearly do,” you retort, securing the bandage and rising from your knees. “you’re going to go to bed. now.”
he perks a brow, remaining seated. “oh? i am?”
you huff out a breath. diluc isn’t acting as he usually does — his stoic attitude has shifted. what’s changed? “yes, you are. you need your rest, i’ll go make you some tea or something.” before you can walk away, though, he catches your wrist, the warmth from his palm sending a shiver up your arm.
“wait,” he says, and when you look back at him with nothing but concern and adoration in your eyes, diluc feels the ice that has imprisoned his heart begin to melt.
just as you begin to question him, he pulls you down onto his lap, holding you in a strong hug. you let out a sigh, breathing in his familiar scent and letting a sense of safety wash over you. he revels in the feeling of having you in his arms, eyes closing against your shoulder. for the first time in years, he thinks he’s exactly where he needs to be.
he feels home.
“thank you,” he whispers, sudden tears beginning to prick his eyes. “thank you.” he feels as though a curse has been lifted off of him, an overwhelming feeling of joy overtaking him — and it’s all because of you. you and your soft touches, your laughter, your wide smile that you reserve for him and him only; he could go on for days about what he loves about you.
of course, you don’t know this, not yet. despite this, you nod, holding him tighter when you feel his tears begin to wet your shirt. you comfort him, because you know he hasn’t had the chance to be held since he was a little boy.
“of course,” you answer, voice knowing and steady, though you don’t exactly know what he’s thanking you for.
for now, this is enough, diluc decides. although he might be scratched and bruised, broken and lonely, having you with him is more than enough to heal his ruined past.
hear me out. xiao “call out my name”... touching yourself imagining him and you moan out his name... and he thinks you’re in trouble and teleports to you...🧍
de l'autre côté de l'eau, comme un écho. / tu dis que c'est la fin du monde, c'est ton silence mon eau profonde.
um,, idk what to say cause i dont want this to b my venti summoning post but. anyways. also tagging @starfell-traveler look i finished it!!!! b proud of me /hj
pairing: venti x gn!reader
content warnings: mentions/descriptions of alcohol & blood/injuries, major character death, it's just heavy angst i'm sorry
one.
Venti still remembers the first time he heard you laugh, warm and clear and bright, like the chiming of cathedral-bells.
In those golden days when he was getting used to his new face, he often found himself wandering—much to the chagrin of his friends. If he wasn't in one of the many taverns of the newly-built Mondstadt, he was wandering these new, free lands.
And that was how he met you, the spritely scion of house Gunnhildr, who had strayed away from your envoy with a bottle of wine and leaves in your hair. He noted the mischief dancing in your eyes, the sunlight dappling on your skin, the way your mouth formed a small "o" when you saw you were not alone.
Your eyes had lit up when you caught sight of him. "Oh, my lord!" you called, "Fancy a cup and a chat, perhaps?"
Venti stood still for a moment to ponder your request, but at the sound of you popping the cork off the bottle and pouring it into a cup you had brought, he found his resolve weakening. He took a seat next to you as you pulled a stray leaf from your hair, taking a sip from your cup before passing it to him.
How brazen of you, he mused.
While cherry wine, in his opinion, could never hold a candle to the dandelion wine he had grown fond of, it tasted all the sweeter coming from you.
You had laughed at this sentiment of his, clear as the water from the lake nearby. "Is that so?" you asked. "Perhaps I'll bring some more of this kind especially for you, dearest bard."
Venti responded with a playful pluck at his lyre-strings. "I'd prefer if you called me by my name, young master Gunnhildr."
"And what would that be?"
Just as he was about to respond, the two of you caught wind of voices yelling out your name, and you flinched. "That must be for me," you said. "I shouldn't have expected to be able to hide forever."
He helped you stand, stretching out his arm to pull you up—your hand was soft and warm against his own, and the "thank you," that rolled from your lips made his heart flutter in a way he wasn't used to.
"I'd love to see you again," you said, and he smiled.
"You talk as if this is goodbye forever!" Venti joked. "We can meet here again, if you so wish."
"Then it is done," you said, and squeezed his hand as if in confirmation of your new arrangement.
And with the lightest press of your wine-stained lips to his cheek, you had run off without another word—only the sound of your distant laughter and, "Sorry, sorry! I'm back now, mother!" left in your wake.
two.
That promise had soon become habit, and habit a new way of life—one wherein you would sneak away from the rest of your family to rendezvous with Venti in the forest, to share wine and song and sweet, honeyed words alike.
(And as time wore on, you pressed your wine-stained lips to more places than just his cheek, and the cheeky bastard would have you do it again, and again, and again.)
"What d'you reckon your family would say if they figured out you were sneaking away for this?" Venti mused, "Like a hero in a romance novel."
With a laugh, you lay your head over his lap and smiled when his hand came to rest in your hair, his fingers gently playing with the strands. "Scold me, I suppose," you said. "There are worse fates than not being allowed outside for a month, my love."
You plucked a stray dandelion out of his hair, blowing the seeds to the wind.
"Hmm? And what would those be, I wonder?"
"...You're so infuriating, Venti," you grumbled, and he simply laughed and took another sip of wine—elderflower this time, tasting like spring upon his tongue. "I can't even dare imply that I want to be with you forever without you teasing me for it—what kind of lover are you? Hmph."
He paused, a teasing grin growing on his lips despite your previous words. "Are you asking me to marry you?"
An odd noise left your throat. "I mean," you said, "unless you want me to take your surname instead? ...Now that I think about it, Venti Gunnhildr doesn't quite sound the best."
A laugh, first from him, soon followed by one of your own. "Your family won't allow it, would they? But if the fates allow…there's nothing I'd love more than to be with you," he said. Gently he untangled his fingers from your hair, weaving his fingers between your own instead. "That is, if you want it too?"
A world of just you and him, a life where he would never have to stray far from your side—perhaps this was what Amos so desperately craved for, in those days. Venti watched as you removed the signet ring from your pointer finger and fit it snugly on his own, admiring your handiwork and smiling up at him.
"I wouldn't have it any other way."
three.
Somehow it felt odd to see you in clothes other than the casual attire he had always seen you in. When you were seated upon your horse like this, dressed in richly-dyed leathers and embroidered silks with your family crest hanging proudly from your breast pocket, you seemed much less like the cheeky [Name] that would pluck his lyre from his hands to play your own tune, and more like the young scion of house Gunnhildr that the rest of the world saw you as.
"I'm sorry, dearest," you said, your voice thick with regret. "They only told me about this last night, so I've had no time to tell you… And father wouldn't let me refuse, so—"
Venti laughed, "When did you become such a worrywart? It's only one round of hunting, right? I'll be waiting for you back here."
You huffed, leaning down to press a kiss to the corner of his lips. "Then I'll be sure to hurry on back to you."
He pulled you back down for another kiss, square on the lips this time, before letting you go. "Don't miss!" he said, calling after your horse, to which you turned and yelled back at him,
"If I do, it's your fault!"
He laughed, settling down beneath a tree and closing his eyes. You'd be there to wake him when you returned.
When Venti awoke, it was not to your hand shaking his shoulder but to a thud and the worried whinnying of a horse. His eyes snapped open as you groaned, one hand clutching your stomach and the other propping you up. When you caught his gaze you smiled weakly, too much blood in your teeth and not enough light in your eyes.
"I'm back, dearest," you said, and he had stumbled over to catch you before your arm gave out.
He pressed down on your torso, where three large gashes ran down from your chest down to your stomach, large and jagged as if from the claws of a bear. You groaned in pain and he pressed a kiss to your hand in apology, your skin pale and clammy in a way that reminded him too much of harsh, cold winds and a boy with his lyre.
"You should've seen me, Venti," you breathed, "I shot it right in the throat…are you proud of me?"
"Very," he said. "I'll always be proud of you."
You laughed, broken and pained and sad. "Good," you said, "good." Then you looked up at him, the tears welling in his eyes, the reality of his fate—your fate—finally looming upon him. "Don't look at me like that, love," you cooed. "Please, smile for me, okay? Sing for me…can you spare me at least that much?"
His grip on your hand tightened. "All of that and so much more, dandelion," he said. "Please…"
"So much more, huh…" you mused. "Then, how about one last kiss before I go?"
"...You talk as if this is goodbye," he says, but doesn't protest when you pull him down by the collar, your red-stained lips pressing weakly against his—
—But instead of the sweetness of wine, there was only the sharp bitterness of your blood in his mouth.
four.
"How far would you go for me?" was something Venti had thrown around a lot, never expecting you to give him a straight answer—not with how you shoved his shoulder and said, "Just because there wasn't a ceremony doesn't mean I'm not your spouse, Venti. Wouldn't the answer be obvious?"
But he still recalled the first time he had asked you and the first time you answered, your fingers tangled with his and your head buried in the crook of his neck. Your voice had been softer, gentler, lacking the playful edge but just as genuine as always, "From the deepest depths of the ocean to the highest to the highest peaks in the sky," you said, "Until my hands wither away into dust."
"Maybe you're the bard instead of me, love," he had said, then.
In this new world without you he found himself clinging to whatever remnants of you he could—the dappled sunlight in the forest, the slightest sting of alcohol going down, the glint of your family crest on the ring that adorned his finger.
One of his many laments was how he could never mourn you in the way he felt you deserved—he had not the power to turn back time, lacked the dominion over anything static and permanent to immortalise you with. He only had his lyre and his voice and his winds, and all he could do was paint the skies grey in his grief, have the gales sing requiems that you would never hear.
From the deepest depths of the ocean to the highest peaks in the sky he would go for you and back—and if the darkest depths of this world contained the secret to getting you back, perhaps even a mere spirit on the wind could bear the trek through the dark.
(After all, Venti knew in his heart of hearts that you would have done the same for him.)
The heart of the Abyss wasn't a land of mindless bloodshed and fire—it was cold and calculating, like a predator lying in wait. It was this place, in the depths of Teyvat and in the winding depths of their palace, that he knew could somehow bring you back to him.
"Are you the one for whom the skies wept, bard?"
Venti swallowed down the lump in his throat. "I am," he said. "I want a deal."
The person before him raised an eyebrow, canting their head to the side.
"One life," they said, "and no second chances."
Cold, and calculating, and inevitable—but still he would try. Venti owed you at least that much, no?
five.
He squeezed your hand as you trailed behind him, muttering to himself: don't look back, don't look back, don't look back. No matter how much he longed to hold you, to see your face and feel your skin beneath his, he kept his gaze to his feet as you both moved onwards into the dark.
(When he saw you again, just as beautiful as the day he lost you, he dropped his lyre to run into your arms, burying his face in the crook of your neck and surrounding himself with only you, you, you.
"Venti," you said, and he nearly wept at the way his name rolled from your tongue. "Let's go home.")
You squeezed his hand back, so gently that he almost couldn't believe you were really there. "Why don't you sing me a song, dearest?" you quipped. "Anything you like."
In spite of himself, in spite of the cold around him and behind him and in his own hand, he smiled. "Have I ever sung you the one with the mist flower and the sparrow?"
He heard you huff behind him. "That one again? You know how bad I am at hitting the notes in that!"
"Hmm, sure, sounds like an excuse to me…"
"Venti!"
He laughed and squeezed your hand again, as if to remind himself—you were here, and he was taking you home, and you would be able to feel the sun on your skin and taste wine from his cup in the way you had always loved. He would be able to write you songs and guide your hands across his lyre, and he need never stray far from your side.
You need never go somewhere where he couldn't follow.
"We're almost there," he said, resisting the urge to turn around to smile at you. "There's a bottle of wine waiting for us. It wouldn't do us any good to leave it for too long, you know?"
He squeezed your hand again, but you didn't respond.
He swallowed down the lump in his throat. His footsteps hastened, quicker and quicker until he was near-running towards where he knew the surface lay. Had he been tricked? Were you never there all along? Had you gotten lost, or fallen, or left, and left some other person in your stead?
Anxiety clutched at his heart like brambles, and Venti found his mind wandering back to those days with the wintery winds and the friends he had lost to the storms. Not again, he prayed, please, never again.
He ran until his legs ached, ran until the first drop of sunlight finally kissed his skin, and he let go of your hand to turn around—
—to see your face still shrouded in darkness, your eyes wide, your hand still reaching out for him.
"What?" he breathed, "No, please, I can't lose you again—"
You smiled, and though your teeth weren't coated in blood and your body was free from any wounds, Venti's heart had sunk even further than when he had caught you that day.
"No, love, please, I'm sorry—"
"Venti," you said, "I'll see you again soon, okay?"
"Please—"
"I love you."
With whatever time you had left, you reached out further to brush the tips of your fingers against his cheek. "Smile for me, okay? Sing me one last song…"
And before he could reach out to you again, you had once again gone somewhere he couldn't reach.
(Yours was a song he sang without end, even when all of Mondstadt had forgotten your name—and even when he felt like he didn't deserve to bear your memory.
On days when he uncorked a bottle of cherry wine or caught the Acting Grandmaster's eye, Venti found himself staring down at the ring you had placed on his finger in those golden days—and if he closed his eyes and pressed his lips to it the way you had done to him, he swears he can still hear your laugh, warm and clear and bright.)
hear me out. xiao “call out my name”... touching yourself imagining him and you moan out his name... and he thinks you’re in trouble and teleports to you...🧍
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