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bard-twins · 28 days

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Commissions are open!!!

𝐂𝐎𝐌𝐌𝐈𝐒𝐒𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐒 𝐎𝐏𝐄𝐍 [𝟒.𝟏𝟎.𝟐𝟒]

Drabble - $10 [0/3]

➼ 600-900 words ➼ NSFW is free

➼ +$5 Dead dove

➼ Headcanon, snippets, what if scenarios, etc.

One Shot - $0.01/word [0/2]

➼ 1100-3000 words

➼ Mild nsfw is free

➼ +$5 NSFW / +$10 dead dove

➼ e.g for a 2.5k word fic, it will cost $25

For detailed TOS, please check here

Please wait for my confirmation if I will accept your commission

I may refuse your commissions if you can’t follow my terms and conditions and if it’s outside the range of my ability

Payment is only through ko-fi

A 50% down payment must be given within 7 days of placing the order. Full payment is accepted.

Your order will be canceled if you cannot pay within 7 days.

The remaining fee must be paid before I submit to you your finished fanfic. If you're unable to make payments for more than a week, I will block you and list you as a bogus buyer which will be posted in all of my social media accounts. Refunds will not be provided.

Reposting my works to any platforms without credit is strictly prohibited

Refunds will not be allowed if the product is close to finish or is already completed

Characters and Media I write for

Genshin Impact (including but not limited to):

Venti, Nameless Bard, Heizou, Xiao, Kazuha, Albedo, Aether, Lumine, Kokomi

Ensemble Stars:

Subaru, Ritsu, Izumi, Tsukasa

Others:

Sunday (Honkai Star Rail), Alastor (Hazbin Hotel), Shiki Souma (Play it Cool Guys), Gojo Satoru (JJK), Rikuson (Apothecary Diaries), Sou Hiyori (It’s Your Turn to Die), Kokichi Ouma (Danganronpa)

These are all the characters I can think of on top of my head but feel free to ask me if I write for x character of y media.

Notes

Dead dove means problematic themes such as non-con, taboo relationships, etc. Kindly DM me first so we can further discuss it

Fanfic commissions may take a long time to finish depending on how lengthy the story is!

Please DM me if you're interested in commissioning me or if you have queries about the commission

I mostly write reader inserts and Genshin Impact. I'm more well-versed in writing for Venti and Nameless Bard, but if I'm familiar with the media and/or characters, I'd be fine writing it.

You can check here what I write and won't write

You have the choice if you prefer to keep the commissioned fanfic for yourself or if it would be alright to post it on my other social platforms

What you see in my carrd is the whole types of fanfic I can do, however, not all of them are open. So if you're wondering why this fanfic commission is not open, it's because it will depend on my availability to ensure I am able to finish the commission

#elli.reblogs #commissions #genshin impact

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bard-twins · 2 months

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Yandere Alastor Concepts 2

imma put more yan alastor concepts (aka a mini-series entitled between the devil and the deep blue sea) here while i finish writing the first part

concept 1 | concept 2

Alastor has this uniqueness in him that makes him convincing. Maybe his experience as a radio host is what makes him compelling, not to mention you’ve worked with him for years. But despite knowing and being aware of this, you hate that you still fall for it.

Foolish isn’t it that you’ve been manipulated multiple times, controlled like a puppet, and giving that demon his satisfaction in ruining your pretty little head.

He starts slow. Casually dancing his way through your room without permission, acting as if you’ve been best friends who question how was your stay in the hotel. Redemption is nothing but a false hope for sinners to reach heaven. He’d mused on your failure in getting better and he’s entertained by it much to your annoyance. Alastor pours you with doubts, questioning your decisions and actions.

He’s nothing but a mosquito who keeps buzzing in your ear. You wanted to challenge him, tell him that it’s not impossible to be redeemed. But who are you to talk like that to an overlord?

He says it in confidence, you almost believe him.

Alastor takes your hand in his and pulls you to him until you are caged in his arms. You push him away but he keeps you still, slithering his arms over your waist and grinning when your disgusted visage appears.

His touches are light yet intimidating, the way he leans forward and cups your face in his hand is sickening but pleasant and warm. You want to punch him so badly, kick him, scratch his eyes out, whatever you can do to make him stop before you get too close to your limits.

But even when you felt like dying from humiliation and hatred, you never once said anything back to him.

He would always make it clear to your head: redemption is impossible.

His finger runs over your neck and traces the mole, carefully and slowly tracking your heavy breath and gulps onto his tips, and deliberately all his fingers are on your neck. Tight but lax. Firm yet tolerant.

The soft breaths escaping your mouth tickle his skin making him chuckle softly into your ears.

“Well, enjoy your stay here. It was nice you returned to me."

taglist: @repostingmyfavs @tired-of-life-86

#elli.reblogs #new post!

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bard-twins · 2 months

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Not me repeating alastor’s “good girl” in my head over and over again but with edward bosco’s voice—

#it’s getting unhealthy #ellis.thoughts #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel alastor #alastor

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bard-twins · 2 months

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Pls share those yandere Alastor concepts with us sometime! No rush and no specific request at this point, but I would love to see more of what’s on your mind, I really enjoyed the first one! :)

Yandere Alastor concepts

well this isn’t really a spoiler per se but i suppose i’ll give everyone a preview of Alastor and darling’s relationship since it’s going to be mentioned a lot (albeit in little details) in the upcoming stories

first part

word count: 1.4k

warnings: fem!reader

Before arriving at hell:

Alastor and darling are colleagues in the radio station they worked at.

She works as the scriptwriter and is in charge of creating the scripts for him (mostly for the weekly Saturday gossip)

Eventually, the longer you worked together, the less Alastor needed a script since he’s good at ad libbing

But he finds an excuse he needs one so you can visit his office and give it to him. For example, he needs a proper guideline for his upcoming broadcast

Most of the time he’ll invite you for a coffee inside and you’re worried your boss may find you slacking off the longer you stay, but Alastor reassures you it’s still job related discussion

He’d offer you a cup and you happily accept it

Once he knows you also prefer teas, expect there are several options prepared (mostly coffee cuz he doesn’t like teas)

After work, if it’s getting too late, he’d offer to walk you back home, AND he even gestures to you to hold onto his arm which you really find it sweet

Now Alastor’s a real gentleman. You find that very charming and you brush off his little touches such as his hands lingering a little longer when giving his script or when he stands next to you while the producer tells you the new ideas and his arm is brushing over yours

But Alastor can never forget the time you patted his head and praised him

He was flabbergasted. Shocked even. His smile was stiff like a mask. Then he looked away from your gaze and quickly walked towards the door

You were worried if you did something wrong due to his abrupt departure. Maybe he wasn’t comfortable being treated like that more than you thought

If only you knew what was going on in his mind…

The next day he was back to his usual self, but more chirpy and lively. It somehow unnerved you but you disregarded such thought and waved at him.

As usual with work life, you wrote the new script, your producer stayed back to give suggestions on how to improve the script, and Alastor was supposed to prepare himself for the recording.

Nope.

He stayed and tweaked the script. He would brush against you, giving you small jolts each time, and every time you subtly turned around, his glazed eyes met yours and you quickly returned to your typewriter.

His gaze is more intense. As if a hawk is waiting for their prey to take a step out of line. When you turned your face away, Alastor continued to watch you from behind. Your heart was beating so fast, you wished you could leave the booth and go back to the comfort of your house.

After the success of the latest episode, you weren’t expecting an invitation for a nightcap, especially coming from the infamous radio host. With the recent market crash making stable income a rarity, you found yourself hesitating.

Yet Alastor was persistent and he insisted on footing the bill. The urge to decline was strong, yet as you opened your mouth to refuse, his expression shifted, his eyes darkening slightly while his never-faltering grin remained unchanged.

“How could you refuse him?” Your inner voice scolded.

Before you know it, you find yourself at a speakeasy, a glass of chilled whiskey appears before you. You followed the trail of the arm, a long white sleeve covering the muscles you didn’t know were toned.

Has he always been this well-built?

“Is whiskey not to your liking, dear?” Alastor’s voice cut you off from your nonsensical thoughts.

Your gaze never took off from the glass.

I prefer beverages with a lighter touch than whiskey.

You mentally chastised yourself.

You heard a light chuckle, the wood creaking once he took the seat next to yours. The glass clinked as the small cubes danced along the waves.

“Hm, so my guess was right you prefer light alcohol over heavy ones.” The radio host remarked.

Your eyes widened, hands clamping over to your delicate lips. Did you just say that out loud?

“What’s wrong with wanting light alcohol?” The edge in your voice stung the other. His eyes narrowed ever so slightly at your remark in amusement.

“I never said it’s wrong to like light drinks,” Alastor swirled his glass before taking a small sip.

Your glass was still untouched, although curiosity was gnawing away at you.

“Why don’t you take a sip? It won’t hurt,” He offered.

Glancing at the burning amber liquid reminded you of the fate that awaited anyone who would be careless enough to get their drink mixed up. The cold droplets made you shiver slightly as they drifted along the sides of the glass.

You pushed the glass to him, “You can have it. I don’t want to get a headache when I still have to work on a new script tomorrow.”

Alastor gazed at your liquor. The jazz music of the bar was a nice touch after a tiring day, yet his visage that reflected beneath the soft glow of the speakeasy said otherwise.

“You’ll be working with Clyde?” There was a sharp tone in his voice.

When did he start caring about what you do?

Alastor looked past you, his eyes narrowed dangerously. That person whom you had previously mistaken for just another co-worker seemed more sinister, ready to pounce on any of your weaknesses. Was it because you rejected his invitation earlier?

“Yes,” you nodded meekly, shifting against your seat as you avoided making contact with his eyes. “The producer told me they want a new broadcast for our station. Like a theatrical drama rather than the weekly hearsay from our listeners,” you explained.

A loud crashing sound resounded within the small bar and you flinched, instinctively recoiling at the piercing noise and you gasped upon noticing a blood trailing from Alastor’s hand.

His drink which was half-empty was now dripping on the counter mixing with the blood that seeped through his hand.

“Alastor! For goodness sake, I just bought that!” A shrill voice shouted from the other side of the counter. A short woman in a flapper dress clicked her tongue and ordered the barkeeper to clean the mess.

“Pardon me for the unpleasant commotion. I didn’t mean to shatter the glass.” Alastor opened his palm and it felt like someone had suddenly slammed a brick wall right across your face.

The sight was sickeningly frightening.

You rummaged through your purse and took out your handkerchief, carefully removing the small glasses pricking into his skin.

He observed your careful ministrations with keen interest, a slight thrill shooting through him as your fingers grazed his. It was like experiencing a treat, each touch sending a wave of unfamiliar sensations coursing through him. Sweet yet sour.

The corner of his lips tugged, almost reaching his eyes. Your pale face, trembling hands, tightened jaw, stumbling words of assurance as you asked for medical assistance— he watched your face intently to catch every subtlety of your expression. He wants to devour every single bit, drink it, absorb it, consume it, nibble on it…

You cleaned up the last bits of blood oozing from his left palm, and he clasped your hand in his unblemished one, holding it firmly as he lifted your knuckles to his lips.

A broad grin spread across his face, reminiscent of the Cheshire cat's, and you couldn't shake the feeling that behind his dark eyes lurked a hint of mischief. It was a smile that seemed to dance between sweetness and something more sinister, leaving you both intrigued and slightly unnerved.

His lips that brushed against your skin provoked a shiver running down your spine, a cold realization settling in your bones. It lurked a darkness that sent a chill through your soul, leaving you with a sinking feeling.

—

After the small night of drinking, you promised to call Alastor later. You thanked him and hurried back home.

On the way, your thoughts are continuously turning into worry and fears. You asked yourself: why do you feel so uncomfortable around him? What makes you feel like you’re in danger?

Were you overthinking this? Maybe. But you couldn't shake off the uneasiness inside you.

Did he plan to hurt you? No, no way. It would be impossible since he was an impeccable gentleman.

This fear of the unknown and dread that gnawed at you will be the root of your sleepless night.

#i realized i rebloged the wrong post lmaoo #okay here’s the new yan alastor post 🙈#elli.reblogs

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bard-twins · 2 months

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Entrapment | Alastor x Reader

Okay, hear me out. Alastor being a darling husband he is with his darling wifey is cute and all, but what about a darling wanting to escape from Alastor himself?

word count: 2.3k

warnings: alastor is enough to be a warning already, depictions of blood and gore, toxic and unhealthy dynamic

When you were still alive, he always had his eyes on you and controlled you like his little puppet. You hated it, you hated being commanded and controlled for every little thing you did and if you even dared run away from him, he’d always manage to find you. You hate every atomic part of his existence so much that you’d be willing to kill yourself just so you could escape and get that taste of freedom.

But you can’t and he won’t let you.

Alastor would never allow the tip of the knife nor even a simple piece of office equipment reach your hands. And if someone has the audacity to touch his play toy, it’s time to say goodbye.

You know he’s a malicious murderer, and he knows that you know about it. If you’re feeling brave enough to tell it to the police then go ahead, because by the time you report this to them and leave the station, the next day you find yourself throwing up yesterday’s dinner upon hearing the cops were all dead.

No one will ever believe you that the infamous radio host of your city is a murderer. For a puny citizen like you, what power do you hold to convince everyone? They’ll laugh it off and say you’re crazy.

But it’s crazier how they are all deceived by the facade he puts on. His knife plunged into the chest of your coworker, their blood spluttering on his cheek.

Alastor’s wide smile was strained and wicked, the image of the blood dripping from your head and lips when he entered the broadcasting booth was as clear as his collection of polished knives.

The audacity to lay a hand on you and push you down the stairs. Do they have the right to push you off? Of course not! He’s the only one who could torment you until you break!

He’s the only one who could tarnish your being and leave a wounded mark on your soul and heart, a reminder for you there’s no one but himself who could make you so powerless and helpless.

Do they have the right to make you so confused? To put all the blame on you, as if you were the worst person in the world? To try their best to tear you apart piece by piece? Because, after all, it’s always the fault of someone else, right? The audacity to hurt you more than any human has ever hurt another human being before… The nerve to be sure you will never find true happiness again because you're now scarred for life.

He thrust the blade again, the rains of scarlet droplets continued to pour until his face and glasses were doused.

But he didn’t let it hinder him from making sure they were as good as dead. He lifted his head and took a glimpse at the sky above. It was gloomy, gray, and dark. Not much sunshine.

Alastor smiled, stabbing the knife at the corpse's chest before wiping off his glasses with his clean napkin. Then an idea clicked onto him.

It's the perfect time to give you a little visit.

He laughed under his breath and stood up straight.

He knew his outfit was not in good condition, but oh well... Perhaps, he’d instead leave a gift for you on your porch. Oh, how he wished he could make an unexpected appearance, just to witness the shock and horror on your face as Alastor comes to the hospital drenched in a coat of glistening crimson.

The anticipation of your reaction fueled his excitement, the more he thought about it, the bigger his grin became. If this would truly happen, it will surely be a sight to behold.

Still fragile from your time in the hospital, you stepped through the threshold of your home.

You missed the sight of its familiar structure, the only space you feel safe and protected, away from Alastor and your colleagues.

A sense of relief washed over you. The familiar sights and comforting aura of your own space enveloped you like a warm embrace. But something was different, something unexpected awaited you.

There on the polished surface of your entryway sat an elegantly wrapped box, its rich paper adorned with intricate patterns and tied with a luxurious ribbon. Your fingers traced the smooth edges of the packaging and you checked for any signs who sent it. Alas, no name was found.

Who could have left this for you? And why now, upon your return from the hospital?

You had a bad feeling about it.

As you carefully untied the ribbon and peeled back the layers of paper, you stared wide-eyed at the contents hidden within.

Severed limbs, skin deathly pale and stiff.

Your stomach turned violently and you threw the box away from you, the gift spilling across the floor.

"Oh god, oh my god, what the fuck?!"

You were shaking. What was this? Was this a threat? A sick joke? Your heart thudded heavily in your chest, each beat pounding like thunder. You took a step back and stumbled, falling hard to the floor.

It didn't stop there.

Wounds inflicted on every part of your body, the scars on you began to open, rendering the healing done by doctors and nurses useless.

Wounds made by knives, claws, scissors, guns. Every imaginable instrument of torture. You cried out loud. Your voice pierced the quiet of the night, disturbing the tranquility of the neighborhood.

It was a perpetual and horrid nightmare. Just closing your eyes for even a millisecond, the image of his wide creepy smile flashed before you. You could hear his dark cackles, enjoying the sight of your vulnerable form as he tormented you in and out of your work.

“Run as far as you want, dear. In the end, I’ll always be ahead of you.”

The worst part was not knowing when he would strike next. He could appear anywhere at any time.

And it was all because of his sick game.

You didn't know what to do anymore. How long did you have to keep running from him? How many more days did you have to hide from the world? You were so tired of this, tired of having to live in fear of the monster that hunted you.

But God had finally heard your pleas and granted the wish you’ve been wanting for so long. So when the news came to you that the notorious radio host was dead, relief and happiness flooded every vein in your body.

You rejoiced, celebrating the death of the one who had terrorized you for a long time.

The nightmare was finally over.

The radio station was sullen by the news of their popular host, but you didn’t care. Your work became more efficient. You didn’t feel the need to be so wary and anxious by every move you made in the station. You have finally gained your freedom and the chain that was tied to him has shattered.

This was the best thing you could ever ask for.

Even on your deathbed, it was the best dream. Years without Alastor torturing and tormenting you was bliss. A man’s greatest wealth of freedom.

But then, the dream quickly turned into a nightmare, for it was never over. The demon who you thought was dead rose once again. It was only then you realized that he was never human in the first place. He was a monster.

And now, it was you who were caught in his web.

"My, what a wonderful reunion. Did you miss me, darling?”

The demon before you was mysterious.

Unfamiliar.

But his aura and voice screamed for you, the alarms in your body ringing, to run away from him as far as you possibly can.

The wide smile plastered on his face was all too familiar. Too familiar to be hated in the living and the dead. You’d be a fool if you didn’t recognize it.

You knew who he was. You just kept on denying what was the truth, brushing all the facts laid before you beneath the rag, and keeping your pretty little head away from the politics of Hell.

A demon who is powerful, dangerous, and cruel.

A demon who was feared by the other demons in Hell. A demon who is not to be messed with.

Alastor. The Radio Demon.

It was a miracle, or rather a curse, that you were brought back to life. But now you are a prisoner to this Hell. Trapped inside an inescapable cage with a dangerous beast, you could only hope that your second death would come quickly and peacefully.

But it seemed that fate was not on your side, and Alastor was the ever cruel demon. He did not scar you easily and instead prolonged your suffering, making your life a living torture.

Beads of sweat rolled from your temple. Your hands began to tremble and you felt yourself slowly succumbing to your fear. You had nowhere to go, nowhere to hide.

You were cornered, trapped.

Alastor had you where he wanted.

You watched him closely, eyes locked on him and every single movement. If he did something, you would see it.

"Are you frightened, dear?" he asked. His eyes met yours and he smiled. "There is no need to be afraid."

"Stay back! Don't touch me!" you shouted at him. The corners of his lips curled up, his smile turning sinister.

"Now, now, let's not act too hastily."

His gloved hand reached out and caressed your cheek, sending shivers down your spine. His red eyes bore into your soul, burning with hunger.

You couldn't bear to look at him. You didn't want him touching you.

"Don't," you whimpered.

"Don't be afraid. You have no reason to be afraid."

Rivers of tears streamed down your cheeks as the fear overwhelmed you. You didn't want him touching you. This man... He was the same one who hurt you, who ruined you.

"Why? Why are you doing this? Why are you here?"

The smile on his face grew wider.

"Do I need a reason? It’s obvious why we’re here," he replied, cocking his head to the side, eyes piercing through your eyes and consuming every little bit of your reactions in his head.

You gulped and stepped back, trying to create some distance between you and him.

"What are you going to do with me?"

He chuckled. "What a silly question! Would a little reacquaintance hurt?"

Reacquaintance? He was talking like this was a casual meeting. Like you were old friends reuniting. But this was the man who hurt you.

"What's the meaning of this?” You sobbed, shaking your head.

Alastor laughed loudly, his grin never faltering, and it makes you sick he finds everything amusing. An entertainment for his delight.

"You never fail to amuse me, dear. Aren’t you the one who killed me?” His antlers grew, his pupils changed to radio dials and his shadow stretched out of him, becoming more demonic in appearance.

You trembled. Your heart beat faster, your legs felt weak, and your mouth was dry.

"I... I…."

He stepped closer, and you stepped back.

Nothing came out of your lips. The words you wanted to say were stuck in your throat. You didn't want to look him in the eyes but his gaze held your chin up high, forcing you to face him. He smiled, and his eyes turned back to normal.

The knees that kept you upright gave in, unable to stabilize you any longer as your body slumped onto the rough pavement.

"Oh, darling," he sighed, the radio static in his voice disappeared as he crouched down.

Your gaze remained fixed on the ground, avoiding any chance encounter with Alastor's piercing stare. Instead, your eyes trailed to his cane, a silent witness to the tense atmosphere between you.

You dared not meet those fiery red optics that seemed to delve into the depths of your very being, dissecting every nuance of your expression. Fingers clenched tightly, you seek some form of solace in the texture of the barren earth beneath you, as though it could take you amidst the storm brewing within.

Alastor took your chin between his fingers and delighted your vulnerable form. Your eyes were bloodshot and puffy and cheeks stained with tears.

"Fate has intertwined us together, dear. Run from me, I’ll always find you."

You didn't know what was more cruel—being brought to hell when you only wished for peace or being toyed around with him after death.

The nightmare you once thought had finally ceased returned to resume its cycle in the afterlife.

"I'll never get away from you..." You said, voice low and wavering. All hope was lost and so was your faith to continue living in this fiery pit of Hell.

"That's right. Good girl," He patted your head, taking a few strands of your hair and twirling it between his fingers. You fought the impulse to recoil, suppressing the urge to swat his hand away.

The consequence of such defiance weighed heavily on your mind; after all, provoking one of hell's overlords was a gamble you weren't willing to take. So you held your ground, masking your inner turmoil beneath a facade of obedience, unsure of what consequences awaited should you dare to challenge the infernal authority before you.

In the dim light, his hand tenderly brushed away the tear tracing its path down your cheek. But as your eyes met his, a glint of something primal flickered in the darkness, casting an eerie glow upon his sharp, yellowed teeth.

Upon the moonlight, his crimson irises blazed like embers, drawing you into their hypnotic depths with an intensity that sent shivers down your spine.

"But fear not, darling. I can promise you a good time. And now that I found you again, we can pick up from where we left off. It will be just like old times."

#new yandere alastor post #elli.reblogs

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bard-twins · 3 months