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#reader has weird mannerisms but i tried to convey that they have imposter syndrome
windwheelasters · 3 years
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echo through eternity;
venti x musically talented! balladeer reader
wc: 2312
anonymous asked: Hi!🥺 can i request scenario for venti where his s/o can play some music instrument but doesnt want to play before him because she's shy?
notes: i took some creative liberties with this one anon, sorry about that!! i decided to have reader be talented in both singing and playing an instrument, since i think those go hand in hand in mondstadt with the bard culture there. i think i made this one a bit overdramatic but we roll with it- hope you enjoy. also, i had a specific song in mind while writing this! hope you enjoy listening.
So long as the roving gales carry joy and hints of the very first spring on it’s heavenly wings, then surely the echoing in the woods of murmuring leaves are the notes that Barbatos sings. 
That single sentence was every single music teacher’s mantra in Mondstadt. You were ninety-nine percent sure that you’d find a doormat with those exact words etched in somewhere. After all, Mondstadt is the city of pastorals, of romance, and of course: music.
Long flowery prose has never been your strong suit. Ever. Needless to say, the endless amount of funds your parents poured into your lyre lessons, in hopes that you’d learn the divine notes that every child of Mond should know, may as well be burnt under the fireplace. At least in that scenario, it’d keep someone warm.
You weren’t bad... but you wouldn’t consider yourself the shining virtuoso that your parents wanted you to be. Perhaps that was due to the music you wanted to play that quarreled with everything else: melodies that contrasted with the droll classical pieces of Fontaine; not even the frigid arias of Snezhnaya or the jaunty tavern songs of Mondstadt could sway your voice- which made your ultimate attainment of an Anemo Vision all the more puzzling.
Your parents were ecstatic- gleefully taking it as a sign from the gods that you were blessed with a maestro’s fingers. Deftly in tune with the harmonies of gods and goddesses alike. Unbeknownst to you, a bard with wisdom far beyond his years bore witness to your musical pursuits. 
Indeed- he heard of a soft, serene melody thrumming through the streets of Mondstadt, a melody so pure, why, he may have cried if he borne with a mortal heart. The winsome smile you wore in front of your audience belied a small, weeping voice in your heart that strived to sing. Even as the stony eyes of Barbatos watched over you, you couldn’t bring yourself to sing the song trapped deeply in your heart.
The scholars said that you would be most aptly matched with Cryo, given your temperament. But there was one sole reason you resonated with Anemo. 
Somewhere, in that fragile heart of yours, was a soul that wished to sing, to play a song that could reach the furthest reaches of Teyvat.
Your earnest wishes, paired with your self-imposed shackles, meant that you held a fruitless dream. 
Well, the god of Anemo pondered, looking over your meek form with reverence paralleling that of young lad’s first love in those gaudy Fontanian novels, He’d have to do something about that, wouldn’t he?
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Venti, the smug little enigma that he is, took great pleasure in tackling you from behind. 
“My fairest flower! Tell me, what has you caught with a face so dour?”
Maybe it wasn’t the brightest idea to be leaning forward on the railing overlooking Market Street and risk tumbling into the moat below, but you turned quickly enough to catch the runaway bard in your arms. His legs hovered in the air for a moment, and you wondered if they bore any weight at all.
Absentmindedly, you ran your fingers over your face, pulling and pinching at your cheeks to ease the tension. Were you really so tense? It couldn’t be helped really, you were stuck practicing for your first recital, which apparently, would take place before the audience joining the Knights of Favonius’s annual gala, so that was fun. 
You took to the streets in search of inspiration, of something that would spark the greatest performance imaginable, but by the time the second clock hand hit the hour you were just about ready to chuck your composition book into the fountain. Somehow you convinced your parents that you could write musical pieces and perform them, and even more miraculously, your music teacher believed you too. 
“I’m... lacking in new ideas,” you admitted. 
From the moment you met, he always seemed to coax the truth from you so easily, as if the winds themselves pulled the words right out of your mouth into the open. He was a strange bard, to say the least- his musical repertoire consisted only of songs that existed eons ago. You remembered the first one you heard from him, under the careful watch of the Anemo Archon. The Boy and the Whirlwind. 
Venti seemed to follow you around curiously, always wanting to entangle himself in your antics. Your friends and family seemed nonchalant about the idea, after all: why wouldn’t the two best musical prodigies in Mondstadt pair themselves together? You remembered how you groaned at the thought, but also how you didn’t entirely mind his company. Is there really anything wrong with wanting to thread your fingers through those two-toned braids of his, or with wanting to hold his hand for hours on end, which was surprisingly soft despite his years of playing the lyre, or with wanting to lay with him at the Windrise tree just to listen to his voice? 
Nope, certainly not, you lied to yourself. If only you weren’t so enamored with this mischievous bard. 
Venti purses his lips, resting his chin upon his dainty fingers.
“Your songs are lovely, I can’t see any reason for why’d you be so somber. Is it something else?”
You grimaced internally. Well, you did have a song, but... 
“I’m... not so sure how I’d do in front of a crowd. I’ve only performed in front of my music teacher and some others... so to have my first recital be something as important as this...”
Your hands shivered, and your vision dimmed. Venti frowned. A dimming vision wasn’t uncommon: mostly seen in allogenes who doubted themselves and went against the ideal they were rewarded for upholding. Most of the time, said allogene would spring back up, and their vision would glow even brighter than before, but your vision was barely as bright as a candle’s light. Far too dim for his liking.
“Aw, I’m sure they’ll love whatever song you’ll sing! I certainly do.”
You gave him one of your signature half-smiles, the ones that made his heart do somersaults three times over before landing on the ground. The same ones that he wrote sonnets of, speaking wistfully into the night whilst you slept in your bed soundly. 
“Thank you, Venti.”
If only you knew how smitten he was, long before you two even met. 
“Well,” he begins, looking over the horizon where a symphony of oranges and purples melded together on Mondstadt’s hills of green. “Why don’t we get out of the city? A change of pace is sure to put a smile on your face.”
You tilted your head playfully, already extending a hand to him.
“Is this a date?”
“Maybe?” A wink graces his features. You shake your head, muttering his name fondly under your breath.
“So,” you begin. “Where do we go?”
“I know just the place!”
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To your surprise, he didn’t drag you to the tree at Windrise to rest your weary head upon its gargantuan roots, and he didn’t take you to Starsnatch Cliff to prance amongst the cecilias, rather- he brought you to a ruin long abandoned, with nothing but the echoes of eternity hollowly resonating between walls of stone and storm. 
“Venti...” You murmured, grasping onto his hand a bit tighter. 
His shoulders drooped for a moment, but the speed at which he turned to meet your eyes made it seem like a fleeting phantasm. 
“I sometimes come to this place when I’m lacking in stories to tell,” he begins, gesturing to the large stone bridge sprawling across Old Mondstadt. “A shocking revelation, I know.”
“O-oh, I didn’t mean-”
“Regardless, my songbird, I’m more curious about the song that’s been tucked away long in your heart, that distant melody you’ve kept tucked away for as long as you can remember.” 
Your heart dropped. 
... That song?
First of all: how? And second of all: why? You contemplated spending the rest of your days peering at your shoes and the intricate stone patterns below you, but a hopeful glance made your breath catch in your throat. Aquamarine hues that felt so familiar now felt... completely and utterly ethereal, in a way that was completely unreachable. Forever and only above, like the isles of Celestia. 
You knew he was always different somehow, but this... the feeling of your vision pulsing atop your sternum, it almost seemed like you were in front of Barbatos himself. 
Venti, noticing the way you held your tail between your legs, stepped forward and lifted the palm of your hand upwards, like old dancing partners. The coolness of his palm soothed yours, as blood rushed to the spots you bore your nails ferociously into as half-moons were left in their wake.
“I’m sorry for making you come all this way. I just wanted to give you a chance to sing freely, from the heart. I’ve heard of your songs before, but they’ve always sounded so... sad.”
“Oh, Venti... I... ” Can’t.
Your throat croaked shut like the rusty door of a dilapidated bird cage. Chained and bound- with a song more bitter than sweet tumbling from your lips.
“I’m sorry, but I-” 
“But you can.”
He rests a hand on your vision. It feels strangely intimate, more than you can comprehend. Venti seems so sure of himself, and you can’t fathom why. You find nothing but admiration in his eyes, and it scares you.
“I know you can.”
And right then, as if the moment shattered into a million pieces, he steps away, procuring a lyre- the one he deemed Der Frühling.
“Just one song, please? One song, and I promise I won’t pester you about it any longer. I haven’t heard you sing in ages! And to bear witness to the talent of one of Mondstadt’s most aspiring balladeers, why, that’s a tale worth telling, don’t you think?”
You flushed, knowing that he was laying on the compliments thickly to cajole you out of your shell. And frustratingly enough, it was working. Still, that song was an old, unrefined thing. Barely long enough to entertain a tavern crowd, and written in a language that was unrecognizable in standard Teyvatian scrawl. It was drawn from a distant memory in your childhood, when your family moved away from your home for a new beginning. 
But the fact that Venti seemed to know about this, and the fact he saw worth in this small memory of yours... You tucked the lyre into your chest, resting the wooden base upon your right wrist and let your fingers pluck the strings -perfectly tuned, as always- while you stared into the skies above. Two birds flew above you in that moment, free as could be. 
In a moment of eternities, you began to sing.
Venti’s born witness to millions upon millions of ballads: from the past, present, and future. Heck, he’s even heard of the song you’re singing, the notes and words resembling the barcarolles of Fontaine. But this was so much more.
This wayward melody, one he heard in passing from an open window all that time ago, the one that captivated him so and urged him to find the source of that voice, was so much more than he imagined. 
The words came easily, rolling from the tongue as if your heart was elated to finally sing its song again. Plucking the lyre’s strings in different chords was simply second nature, drilled into you by various lessons from your numerous critical instructors. Still, it felt lighter to do it here, where the only audience is naught but the spirits of old merged with the thousand winds.
The song left as quickly as it came, and you were reluctant to say goodbye. But you felt lighter, and your vision was most certainly brighter, if that blinding teal glint had anything to say about it. 
You looked upon the lyre fondly, turning to Venti only to be met with two bright aqua hues, wide and positively starry-eyed, just centimeters away from your own. He looked completely and utterly starstruck, with his mouth hanging open as an expressive cherry on top.
“Venti-” 
Jovial laughter and squeals filled the air as he spun you around, using his powers over Anemo to lift you into the air. Lighthearted cries of “put me down’s” and “not a chance” melded gleefully within sounds of joy. 
“What a song indeed- The Knights would surely sing praises of your voice, that’s for certain!”
Slowly but surely, with him by your side, you felt like you could soar.
“That’s some high praise coming from Mondstadt’s self-proclaimed number one bard.”
“Self-proclaimed? I’ve won the title three years and counting! But... I might be willing to go easy on the competition if they’re all as cute as you. I highly doubt it, though.”
“Venti!” You chided, feeling the familiar heat creeping up in your ears again. He merely laughs in reply, and you feel yourself acquiesce to his carefree nature.
“Still,” he begins, and you immediately perk up. “It’s been so long since I’ve seen you look so carefree.”
You make an ambiguous noise, curious as to what he meant. From his perspective, though, with your wind-tussled hair coupled with your wide, innocent eyes, to the way your clothes ripple in the breeze and how Anemo pulses faintly from your vision, you couldn’t be any more beautiful.
He smiles at you fondly, and you accentuate your confusion with a cock of your head. 
“Come now! The sun’s sure to set, and I’ve got a concert in Angel’s Share tonight. Care to attend?”
You quirk your eyebrow teasingly, interlacing your fingers with his.
“So you can ask me to buy bottles of the Applebloom Cider you like so much?” “Hehe! Seems like you know me best after all. Now come! Live and be free: that’s the way of Mondstadt!”
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