#Nadia's Theme

[mudwerks]

(via Theme from “The Young and the Restless" (“Lost") — Long Version)

"Nadia's Theme", originally titled "Cotton's Dream", is a piece of music composed by Barry De Vorzon and Perry Botkin Jr. in 1971. It was originally used as incidental music for the 1971 film Bless the Beasts and Children, and is better known as the theme music to the television soap opera The Young and the Restless since the series premiered in 1973. "Cotton's Dream" was renamed "Nadia's Theme" after it became associated with Olympic gymnast Nadia Comăneci during and after the 1976 Summer Olympics.

[popsixsquishcicerolipschitz]

Well, this just happened... My friend Tom L. Nix was just asked to play Nadia's Dream at an event this evening... for Bart Conner and Nadia Comăneci ...ha

Barry De Vorzon & Perry Botkin Jr. - Cotton`s Dream (Nadia`s Theme)

circlemaker

[mikachusblog]

🥀

[accirax]

if you don't understand the options, Odd Nation Cartoons just released auditions for Disventure Camp Season 4, with an original cast! while the names may be fake, the character profiles and lines are theoretically real. bios below the cut.

i think i need a line of text here to get the cut to work. hello.

[threedotmark]

Got another Ms Fortune commission from the awesome Riddel_Rx

[geisterzeit-art]

your worst nightmare is your mother in the mirror, looking right back at you

[citrine-elephant]

i may be dumb of ass, but the science behind the brain is why i love to try to be super analytical and am obsessed with the psychology behind the whump i write

we are lumps of electric meat, piloting bone and more meat, and with our understanding (and lack thereof), we are still subject to the stupid pathways our brains made to protect us from the trauma we had endured? a massive tenfold if that occured in childhood while our brains were still being molded so quick

to be aware of this fact, to still be submissive to the skullmeat. amazing. cool. sucks, but fuckin dope as shit? yeah brother

... anyways i'm done being a little bitch, i finished the novelization and leon makes my heart wiggle and writhe in strange, unexplainable ways

[amiibo-king]

i got a few requests for this... so here it is! a nadia satrinava 3ds theme :3 features full scrolling bottom and top screens, sound effects, music, etc.

click here to download it! and of course, you'll need a hacked 3ds to use it, so click here for a guide with information on how to do that.

if you want to see other themes i've made, you can click here to find them on my neocities! (psst... if you'd like to see me make themes for any LIs i havent yet, i take suggestions/requests, and i'm more likely to make them the more requests i get for a specific theme! send me an ask on here or a message through my neocities /contact.html form to let me know what you'd like to see!)

click the readmore to see the full length top screen collage and a video showcase of the theme working on my own 3ds.

please ignore how dusty my keyboard is.

[softgrungeprophet]

me designing characters: turquoise! purple! black! red and gold!

[oliveroctavius]

no need to honor this with agreement or disagreement, I just need to tell someone and you're the first spider-man blog I thought of.

my dad is into comic heroes but he's a tv-only and manages to come up with a straight explaination for anything gay (he called symbrock a metaphor for addiction for example) and I, mostly as a joke, asked him what spider-man character he thinks is gay. he said Kraven so make of that what you will.

fellas is

fellas is it g

[heartburstings]

like i don't disagree that jason can be an unlikeable little guy (i'd even argue that it is, in some parts, a feature and part of the larger point), but what i don't understand is that the "solution" to this is that the show should not be about him and peter and should instead be about 2 other characters. because it's like. so dismissive to me. like forget jason for a minute and think about the themes of the show as a whole and tell me it would work if jason was not one of the main characters. like how would you build those themes and explore them without just changing the story and characters entirely

[wishing4nuclearwinter]

O Grave, Where Is Thy Victory?

Whumptober 28 — Anger Born of Worry | Punching the Wall | Headache [ft. Nadia and Varmint modern AU]

Warnings: corpse description, death, religious themes

AO3 link

O death, where is thy sting? O grave, where is thy victory?

The sting of death is sin; and the strength of sin is the law.

The pew groans something woeful as Varmint leans back. He drapes an arm over the hard wooden back, his casual display betrayed only by the other hand balled white-knuckled in his lap. 

There is no one to witness it anyway. He’s tucked himself away in the furthest corner, emergency exit sign haloed above his head. 

At the front of the sanctuary, a preacher who looks too young for the silver marking his hairline blathers on. He seems earnest, maybe overly so, but his somber tone is the first thing that hasn’t felt like a mockery since Varmint stepped over the threshold. 

He wonders if he knew her or if it’s merely the weight of it all that hangs on his words. 

“— cannot understand why Nadia was taken so young, but we need only place our trust in the Lord’s divine plan—”

Every syllable clangs in his ears, driving nails through his skull. He’s beginning to regret leaving his sunglasses in the car with his suit jacket, even if they might have drawn attention to the less than concealed hangover. But it’s easier to forgive red puffy eyes among a crying crowd and Nadia’s father doesn’t need another excuse to forcibly remove him.

As it stands, Zachariah’s mediation is all that has held him at bay. 

“I invited them, Dad, don’t make a scene. They have as much right to be here as anyone else.”

Varmint had had to bite his tongue, offering a smile somewhere between apologetic and sheepish. He has far more of a right to be here than most of these bastards.

Somebody several rows ahead coughs. The preacher’s microphone whines quietly as he shuffles the papers on the pulpit. 

Squeezing his eyes shut in an attempt to calm the heartbeat echoing behind them, Varmint misses her father’s introduction. He misses the eulogy that comes after it more purposefully. 

Her mother and sister follow, giving what was meant to be a joint speech. Her sister can’t get more than a sentence and a babbled apology out before breaking down. She’s all but sobbing on stage while her mother speaks for the both of them. 

A prickling, diluted pain drags over Varmint’s knuckles as last night’s scabs split open. He imagines the cruelty of mourning for the little sister she’d turned out onto the winter streets. He imagines the small wells of blood on his knuckles smearing with the fat tears running down her rosy cheeks.

Clenching his jaw, he wrestles down the lump in his throat. Nadia had once said his anger was ugly. That hers was too. She said that’s what happens when you neglect it. She would have been pissed at the fist shaped hole he’d left in their living room wall. 

As much as he willed it, he couldn’t be better for her any more than she could for him. 

It doesn’t matter now. 

Zachariah is the last of the family to be called up. He looks wrong, signature tan blazer replaced with starched formal wear and greased hair slicked flat against his head. The facade can’t disguise the bags beneath his eyes nor the blonde roots beginning to peek out beneath jet black dye as he so rarely allows them to. He dutifully plays the part of the mourning big brother.

It’s genuine. 

Varmint’s chest aches. 

“I, uh, didn’t prepare any kind of speech.” His gaze splits through the small audience, distant and unfocused. “I think she’d try and haunt me if I stood up here gettin’ all teary eyed.” He cracks a grin and nobody laughs. 

“When she was a kid we’d drive out into the desert at night with a bunch of old CDs and just…” the hesitation carries something unspoken, like if he shares those moments aloud they’ll lose their holiness. Varmint knows them only by Nadia’s own stories. 

“…We’d just listen. This is from one of them.”

He locks eyes with Varmint from across the sanctuary for the briefest second before moving to the grand piano perched at the edge of the stage. It’s a tune he’s heard, faster and more animated than any traditional hymn, though Zach’s croon is no less mournful. 

Seven lonely days and a dozen towns ago

I reached out one night and you were gone

Don't know why you'd run, what you're running to or from

All I know is I want to bring you home

As he sings, Varmint finally finds himself unfurling. The hand in his lap opens to cradle the tiny silver cross it has hidden since the viewing. He’d gotten a moment alone with her at least, though he struggles to call the desecrated corpse they displayed Nadia Loving, regardless of the name engraved into the plaque.

The dress they’ve sewn her into certainly wasn’t hers, nor were the dainty earrings they’ve replaced her studs with. Layers of makeup corrected her more masculine features and covered her tattoos— Varmint tries not to imagine the fatal injuries they hid. The overly thick blush against her pale skin was almost clownish. 

She looked like her mother.

Varmint wonders if the family feels victorious, finally presenting to the world the daughter and sister they’d always wanted. 

Was it worth it?

There was a hint of smugness in the lingering scent of stale cigarette smoke they’d failed to fully cover even under the embalming chemicals and perfume. 

They’d left her necklace on her, the one she’d worn everyday since childhood. The thought of it being buried with that unrecognizable shadow of herself had discomfort burrowing under Varmint’s skin.

When no one was looking he’d ripped it off of her. 

It’s sweaty in his palm and he’ll have to replace the broken clasp, but it’s more sacred than anything in this church. 

As the last three ivory chords are drawn out the room rings in silence. He finally notices the threat of hot unfallen tears at the edges of his vision. Forcibly blinking them away, he slides the necklace into his pocket so that he may take her home.

Now is not the time or place to mourn; not for him and not for her. 

Varmint rises as quietly as he can and slips out the back door.

[lncarnon]

She's truly still yet to see any reason to follow along with @h-a-unted 's intentions. Being caged up and hauled away to some black box site in the middle of nowhere was far less than an ideal life to live, not to mention, the potential for them to gather a fresh sample of the virus to re-create it. The American government had made the Technocyte once before but buried those secrets when it all came crashing down, uncontrollable, that threat to end all of humanity. Like their use of nuclear warfare, it only took one for calamity to claim the Earth.

Nadia takes a step back from him once again, the guise of her own humanity feeling mightily frail at the moment. "You have nothing of worth to offer me, fuck off."

"I have gotten this far for this long without the help of you, or anyone else, and done better to keep this under wraps than any of these three lettered bastards." Between the CIA and the TIA, she certainly feels less likely to become some scientist's pinned up bug box display if she remains on the run.

[dxsole]

Ghost hunters. Supernatural afficonados. General freaks and geeks— the rumors of the hotel and its hauntings spread far and wide over the years...some were lucky enough to not disturb any of the ghosts and leave unsatisfied.

Others were unlucky enough to get the fright of their life and then Nadia had to have the bedsheets changed. Despite the sightings, she still kept up the hotel's official stance on the matter: there is no such thing as ghosts.

Until, of course, someone presses. "I appreciate what you're trying to do," She starts, voice stern even if she's lowered it down to a hissing whisper. "but just let it go."

[brynn-lear]

When Cuckoos Throw Ores [Yandere!Jing Yuan x Reader]

Questionable Overview: After transmigrating to Teyvat, you and Jing Yuan had lived like family on your shared apartment as getting-by descenders. But, you made an error too grave. You hid the anonymous love letters you received from the person you should’ve trusted the most— and now you’ve got yourself a broken mind. [Fic written for May June]

CWs/tags: yandere themes, isekai, moments where you wish Jing Yuan just committed murder instead so it would hurt less, mentions of failed childbirth, nadia & vlad are adorable, implied hysteria, cute n' wholesome beginning w/ found family to "man... man.", gaslighting gatekeep is JY's passion.

"I'm an adult, Jing Yuan! I think I have the right to leave as I please."

Have you ever been so incredibly fascinated by such a mundane object that all worldly noise drowns?

"The right to trample on my heart? To leave me to drown in my despair while you obsess over a single ore without a single thought for me? I must say, it doesn’t seem very sound. Stay put while I call for Doctor Baizhu."

Have you ever had your hand reach out ever so slightly without you realizing such? For your fingers to curl— for you to seize a trinket as though you were compelled by an existence— an idea higher than any mortal comprehension? As though it was fate? As though it was a fruit you weren't meant to take a bite off?

But the most mundane of all…

"There’s no need! Because great General and Emanator of the Hunt Jing Yuan—"

Have you ever lamented a life that "never" happened?

"— I have the right to mourn the happy ending you took from me!"

Though those uninitiated will rehash the root of events in your arrival to the chasm, the most knowledgeable would start the accounts from your arrival to Teyvat.

You did not step foot alone.

When your worldline was destroyed, so, too, was Jing Yuan's. 

Lady Ningguang greeted you both with a good measure of skepticism. You were both "descenders.", though it was soon made evident that your origins are different. He was from "Xianzhou Loufu," and you were from "Earth."  Course, despite your shared tragic circumstances, not everything shall be handed on a silver platter for unfortunate souls. Ningguang was kind enough to provide you both with a shared apartment complex near the fishing port and since then, you and Jing Yuan had a bond not so dissimilar from siblings. He got a job as a general, and your current position is a little more flexible than your previous one.

Whatever principles and studies were available in the previous realms you lived in, they were carried over in Teyvat. Each word circulating about Jing Yuan’s undefeated sword and lance techniques makes you smile; he, in turn, would enthusiastically applaud your sold artworks and STEM innovations. It makes you wholly embarrassed every time he makes what is supposed to be a celebration of his mission’s success into a congratulatory speech for what you’ve done in the same timeframe. Didn’t matter how minute it was. His comrades had already considered the long-standing tradition as a not-so-private joke.

His lack of personal praise worries you sometimes…

There’s a stark difference in your approach to this new life. You mourned for yours being gone; while he doesn’t speak much about his.

“No rush,” he'd say. “All truths shall reveal itself in due time.”

You know about his world, though vaguely. He has a striking resemblance to the character from Honkai: Star Rail. Course, that implies he had gone through similar ordeals as the character. 

“I am an old man, there is nothing for me to grieve.” He told you once. “I have… already witnessed comrades pass, and then some. Have you encountered the phrase: there are fates worse than death?”

Jing Yuan closed his eyes.

“I… find it easier to assume that it might be the only way to put old conflicts to rest.” He shook his head and downed his final shot of baijiu. Yuan sighed, tasting the aftermath in his breath.

“It’s better to put a permanence in death than another forced rebirth.”

He poured you a shot.

"Some memories are better left forgotten. And that applies to you, too."

Whatever he said felt untranslatable to you, hence, you gave up on making more inquiries. If the day comes and he wishes to open up, you'll be there for him anyway.

Or so you thought.

“Heard you’re planning to add another medal to your jacket.” 

Jing Yuan nearly halted from tying his long hair up. You watched his shoulders tremble, likely from trying to compose himself.

“Ha! You've heard a half-truth, I wasn't scheming on anything, it was merely handed to me.” His tone was calm, but you heard the well-hidden smugness.

You shrugged and sipped your coffee nonchalantly. 

… You seriously wish his uniform didn't hug his form that good. Just staring at him makes the room feel degrees hotter. 

You cleared your throat.

“I didn't say anything about schemes, Jing Yuan. Suspicious.”

“Oh?” He hummed, almost sultry for your ears.

…Curse him and his damn beatific smiles.

This playful banter is as natural as the dawn of day. Rather than spending the early morning getting ready for the day, you've both grown accustomed to teasing the other person. He, in his finely ironed uniform, and you, in your comfy pajamas. 

“Since when have I besmirched my name by squandering time? Rude of you to imply that slothfulness rules over my life.” Jing Yuan joked before he moved another piece. “You wound me, dear (Y/n).”

Due to the nature of the conversation, you hadn't thought of your next move much as you continued to probe him. “And what exactly are you doing right now instead of reporting to the Qixing, General?”

He smirked. “I am on-duty, am I not?”

“By talking to me?”

“I have been bound by mundane duties in both my past and current lives, and I must say, engaging with a Person of Interest such as yourself has not only been productive but also mentally stimulating.”

You paused. 

Person of Interest…?

Might as well curse him and his fancy cursive way of implying something too. 

Your nose scrunched. “Are you saying I'M on the Qixing’s watchlist?!—”

“Not in a bad light; don’t worry your pretty head over such menial matters,” he ruffled your hair as he craned over, gazing at your disgruntled morning expression with a loving vigor. “They have an eye for your talent. No Ministry would ever obsess over a clean criminal record.”

You grumbled as you attempted to fix your hair, despite lacking any energy. “Thanks, that calms me down. Especially with the talks about criminal activity on the rise and all.”

He laughed at your snarkiness.

“Is this your best attempt at prying information? I must say, your current occupation suits you. I can now place a finger as to why the thought of Lady Ningguang hiring you as a profiler put me in tremendous unease.”

“Oh don’t be a prick, Yuan.” You chuckled heartily as you gave him a playful slap— which he no doubt avoided. “But seriously, can’t you tell me more about what’s happening?”

There were no further words needed. Such rumors had been on the forefront of the people’s minds: a group of rogue “mercenaries” had found new temptations in banditry— and had the nerve to stew misfortunes on the main harbor itself. As a newly enforced general, Jing Yuan had, of course, been subjected to handling this situation under the ever-watchful gaze of the Qixing. A challenge, as he likes to label it. Whatever helps him sleep at night, you’d reply.

Although, it would certainly soothe YOUR insomnia better if he were to divulge even a hair-sliver of detail in regards to how “safe” this mission truly was.

“(Y/n), there is no cause for concern.” He pulled back, placing his hands on your shoulders. “You know my repertoire— else I wouldn’t consider you a close friend.”

Your heart ached for a second.

In small snippets from the multiple conversations you’ve had with him, you knew he kept his list of close friends few. There’s always a hint of guilt in his voice when he talks about those named Baiheng, Jingliu, Yingxing, and Dan Feng in passing. 

“And I’m just worrying over you,” you lightheartedly glared and waved your hand dismissively. “You know, like a real close friend.”

You both grinned in unison as if telling each other that neither would back down from this “argument” any time soon. He snorted and messed your hair up more. Over the time you’ve spent in each other’s company, your near-telepathic way of conversing has become quite an eerie issue for other mutual friendships. 

Not that either of you minded this. It’s always nice to be understood. 

“I know that look in your eye. Don’t add a part two from last night’s horror stories, please.”

“Then, I’ll take my leave,” he buttoned his jacket. “Last reminder before I go: you have arranged a meeting with Nadia this afternoon.”

“Thanks,” you huffed. “But unlike you, I don’t sleep in and forget my schedule.”

You swore that even after the door was closed, you heard him chuckle yet again. After that, he was gone.

Honestly, with someone with a “life-loving” temperament like him, you’re unsure if he’s easy to please— or too damn good at faking it for his good.

You heard soft knocks against your window.

Slowly, a grin forms on your lips.

“Hello, little man…” You cooed as you stood up and opened for not only the fresh Liyue morning breeze to enter…

But for a diligent little cuckoo bird to deliver its very special package as well.

You’ve always had a soft spot for animals…

“Hmm?”

Your eyes softened as it dropped its parcel and leaned its body against you, warming itself by sitting cozily on your window ledge. This little bird is quite the skilled messenger— always dropping by as soon as Jing Yuan takes his leave. As to why it suspiciously arrives as soon as he is gone, you’re unsure. Such a sneaky creature; you can’t help but adore it.

That’s not to say its deliveries are not as equally charming.

You chuckled as you elegantly unwrapped the ribbon. The letter was elegantly written in a scrawl you’ve familiarized even with eyes closed for the past months, yet it still holds an intensity that makes your heart flutter. 

There it was. The two words that keep you going better than any coffee brew.

“My dearest, (Y/n),….”

“Another letter from Vlad, I’d hope?” You sneaked from behind.

Nadia yelped, hitting you almost immediately. The delay was surely from being on a lovelorn cloud-nine, but her Fatui training that earned her last name definitely should’ve made you double-think.

You shriveled at the pain and she awkwardly cradled you.

“Oh shucks— I’m so sorry, (Y/n)! I-I didn’t realize it was y-y— Don’t scare me like that!” 

“Sorry! Sorry!” You hissed, blaming only yourself for the stinging aftermath. “I-I’ll get over it.”

Nadia guided you to the empty seat beside her. As soon as you were seated, she wasted no time to spill.

“The contents were far too adorable for my heart, oh, dear Tsaritsa, you NEED to read this.” 

An eyebrow was raised. Saying you had a suspicion that something like this would happen would be an understatement— when it came to Nadia, it was more like routine. It had been regular for you and her to get together at least once a month to chat over letters that you both received. Nothing about the time you spent with her was dull. She's the reason you adapted to the Liyue way of life so well. As you were both foreign to the culture— you and Jing Yuan are admittedly the extreme cases— you and her were eager to recount experiences in times of distress. And times of pure unbridled lovesick joy, such as this.

“C’mon, pass it.” You tried to say cooly, but the glimmer in your eyes betrayed your high school-like excitement.

“Same time.” Nadia huffed. "Can't have you gatekeeping your own letter!"

You pulled out yours from your purse.

Nadia wasn’t the only one with something to present to the class. This is just like a teacher forcing students to read their discreetly passed notes out loud. 

Nadia has her Vlad.

You have your Nay Jung I.

Instantly, you both suppressed a giggle in the abrupt exchange.

Nay Jung I. You know little about him, and that intrigue keeps the fire going. When you see a white cuckoo passing by the window, you immediately know it means well. A sight that makes your heart skip a beat. Instead of pushing eggs, it slips a love letter whenever Jing Yuan isn’t around. All coming from a man you can’t track down.

That’s right.

You have a secret admirer.

As you read through the middle of Vlad’s letter for Nadia, you heard your very-much-an-adult friend bite back a squeal in front of you. Nay Jung I may sound like a feminine name, but he was a man. You could’ve sworn you saw Xiangling laugh from the corner of your eye as Nadia tugged your sleeve around like a fool.

“Oh my God?! He wrote that?!” Her lips were akin to wobbly lines toddlers would draw when mimicking the sun’s rays. 

“I find myself constantly catching glimpses of you in my daydreams, my mind flooded with what could be— what should be. Forgive me for my selfishness, but I fear it won’t take long before I can no longer bear the thought of being without you… What?! That’s so SWEET?!” Nadia clutched your love letter tightly, eyes wide as though she was the recipient.

Xiangling, bless her soul, had to peek behind her.

“I wish I could have the courage to reveal myself to you. When I doubt myself, my thoughts turn to you… Aww… I wonder who Mister Nay is and what did you do to get him this in love?” Xiangling playfully pouted, which made Nadia grin wider, almost teasing her. “Geez. When will I get a boy to send me letters?”

“I’m sure you’re going to get one or two someday. A way to a man’s heart is through his stomach, right?” Nadia shrugged as she folded the paper and hid it. “Plus, I fear you’re too young for this.”

“Careful, Dia, she’s the one preparing our food.” You joked.

Nadia has grown more friendly to locals for the better since you started sharing meals here. Everyone knows the feelings between her and Vlad were mutual— but neither of them was willing to confess. With Nadia hoping he initiates, and him densely hesitant on whether she reciprocates. One of them can end this phase should they abandon pride or cowardice.

But Nay Jung I?

You can’t find his records anywhere… And he had told you that it is a fake name by your fourth letter, much to your chagrin.

So, you’ve settled with this arrangement. For now, you are both friends, despite knowing he has feelings for you from the start.

“Mister Nay definitely has it bad for you, Mx. (Y/n).” She gave you a closed-eyed smile. “You need to write back immediately! The man’s probably starving for it!— Oh, right, the pot!!!”

As the chef rushed back after being distracted, you gave Nadia’s letter back to her.

“Any chance of rain?” You asked.

“Cloudy with negative one percent chance that I’ll run to Northland Bank and confess to Vlad.” Nadia spoke sheepish;y.

“That’s at least five percent higher than yesterday.”

“Well, this last letter was adorable.” She swooned.

“Mx. (Y/n), you seem incredibly free at the moment, care to have a chat?”

You turned to look at the new person who joined in.

Fur coat, a distinct mole placement, a sharp haircut, and eyes self-assured enough to conceal their need for urgent assistance, it has to be none other than—

“Miss Yelan,” you gave her a polite smile. “To what do we owe the pleasure?”

Nadia sat up straight, shifting to her work mode. “Is there some business you require from the Northland Bank?”

“I have no quarry with you, Madam Nadia, what I do want—” Yelan tilted her head, her eyes calculating. “Is to speak to (Y/n) in private.”

You paused, recalling the conversation you had this morning.

‘I have been bound by mundane duties in both my past and current lives, and I must say, engaging with a Person of Interest such as yourself has not only been productive but also mentally stimulating.’

Maybe this is what Jing Yuan was warning you about this morning.

“Fine, I concede.” You sighed, swiftly snatching your letter from Nadia’s hands and tucking it inside the pockets of your inner jacket.

“Lead me to where you most need me.”

Over the years you’ve spent on Liyue, you’ve had another habit you’ve been nursing on the sidelines.

Epigraphy.

Better yet, it’s for the sole purpose of decoding ancient artifacts. Before you were transmigrated into Teyvat, you found that inspecting artifact descriptions and reading through lore strewn in notes and dialogues were a great part of what made playing Genshin Impact enjoyable. You devoured theories whether they were from YouTubers like Ashikai or other CCs who were eager to unravel and analyze myths from different civilizations. To be inside THE sandbox was the greatest treat. If your friends were here, you have no doubt you’d have plenty who’d look and try to pick apart Mister Zhongli’s brain.

Unfortunately, you never managed to catch his eye.

And the biggest misfortune of all, you caught Miss Yelan’s instead.

“It’ll take me a few weeks to decipher and solve this puzzle…” You told her hesitantly. “And I can’t guarantee anything either.”

Yelan only tilted her head. Strands of her hair hid her expression, and the only body language to be read was the way she played with the die on her fingers. You wondered if she was deciding your fate by giving it a roll…

You looked at the inscribed walls.

A man with horns… and his partner wearing a long hanfu… His partner… Reminds you of a beautiful cuckoo bird.

You sighed.

When she bargained for a chat in “private”, the Chasm was the last location you had in mind. Even more, it did not occur to you that she aimed to use you as a translator. For a language you only learned a few years ago.

You knew you couldn’t exactly deny a member of the Qixing, especially with how much you carried a moral debt for Lady Ningguang, so you agreed under the condition that Yelan wouldn’t snitch to Jing Yuan.

He might just give you the silent treatment if he found out you were here.

But back on the walls and the puzzle mechanism in the middle of the room…

Both were seated under the shade of a tree… 

Each holding a cup of tea…

“Damn it, why me?” You cussed out loud.

You seriously want to tell her that she should’ve chosen Zhongli. 

Not that you’d know that Yanfei begged Yelan to hire you for the job.

Yelan made her dice vanish. “If you need further assistance, and by that I meant necessities such as food and water, call for Wenyuan or Shanghua. They’ll materialize right in front of you.”

On the next wall, the horned man tightly held his partner, with tears falling from his eyes… His tail was more apparent in this depiction, but there were crystallized ambers and statues all around…

Like they were running…

Away from him…

You faced Yelan.

“Yelan, can’t you call for someone else—”

You blinked.

She was gone.

You don’t like being here.

You don’t like this cave.

You’re not sure whether you liked the fact Yelan invited you here. On one hand, you were grateful for the opportunity, but at the same time, you thought yourself unqualified for whatever piece of ancient Liyuean history was waiting to bite you in the ass. 

It didn’t take a genius to know that whoever the drawn man was, he was a force to be reckoned with. You played enough Genshin to know that yakshas are not to be trifled. If this ended up as an Azhdaha scenario, you wouldn’t want to be the nameless NPC who died along the way.

Should’ve commissioned the traveler.

As you progressed in your decoding, the texts were beginning to gnaw you. 

“Have you heard the tale of Lady ███ ███?”

You trembled at the thought.

Curse Jing Yuan and his ghost stories.

The story wasn’t even that frightening.

What got you was how Jing Yuan sold them. He had preached it as though he had been a witness. It’s just a typical unnerving tale to keep children alert, but he had always been far more persuasive than you.

“When she and her husband were out exploring, her husband left her while she sired his heir. He left her there to die.”

Jing Yuan’s eyes narrowed. You quietly applauded his commitment to the bit. Should you not know any better, you would’ve thought he hated that man more than anything.

Like he was seething with jealousy.

“Some claim he hid her there to fight for a war, some say it was out of love… In my eyes, it was an unforgivable neglect.”

Jing Yuan claims sharing ghost stories was a common occurrence from when he used to teach his disciple. But you’re not an idiot. You can sniff out a reason why he loves to bring these stupid tales.

“Days felt like a prison tally. She had forgotten what it felt to live in the sun.”

“She lived only by fulfilling basic needs. No matter how thick the mud was, no matter what was within the soil— all she could do was bitterly swallow what was to come. She bit her tongue on the ever-growing famine— and wished that her child would survive.”

Jing Yuan does not want you anywhere near the chasm.

“So when it was time to give birth, she had no assistance. She pushed her child out as hard as she could, and laid an empty egg.”

Before you could even ask why a human would lay an egg, Jing Yuan continued.

“But they both passed away.” 

“Legends say, that’s the reason why the lumenstone ore glows. It contains the watchful gaze of a scorned mother and unborn child…”

“And if you aren’t careful, you too—”

“Could be trapped inside it.” 

You scoffed.

Was the tale stupid? Depends on who you ask. Was it sad? Sorta. Was the thought of two ghosts— possibly more— watching you as you were forcibly dispatched to read through The Chasm’s secrets terrifying? Given the dark and brooding atmosphere, it was a quiet yes.

“Hmm? I— I solved it…?”

You blinked.

Maybe you still retained your skills as a Genshin player. Anything for a luxurious chest is what you would’ve said. And yet, it still baffled you that one did appear.

When you unlocked it, you saw no “primogem” like you quietly hoped (it would be funny if you unlocked a wish function, but that’s unlikely…)

Instead, you found a dusty ore.

“Great.” You muttered dryly. “Just what I needed.”

It was amber in color, same as the clothes the man wore in the wall paintings. You’re at a loss on how you should report this to Yelan.

“Better than nothing.” You spoke, laughing slightly. That sounded like something Diluc would say. You should buy a dandelion wine after this hard work.

Quickly, you fished out the gloves in your pockets. It was made of nitrile, which should protect the ore from possible oil and moisture from your hands. Yelan was very insistent you wear it.

But as soon as you touched the ore…

Your consciousness slipped away.

There was a man in front of you.

But you couldn’t see his face. 

“Dearest ███ ███…” The horned man smiled delicately as he sipped his tea. “It has been centuries since our first wedding ceremony. Do be honest with me, do you still hold the same passion as before.”

These memories appear to you in a blur.

“No, I do not.” You heard your voice say as the man’s shoulders slowly deflated. His amber eyes looked down, and his smile began to strain.

With two fingers, you lifted his chin.

“If anything, my love for you has grown stronger,” you spoke. “For you and I shall never let our draconic instincts dull, and our union will be the greatest treasure we shall hoard in this never-ending flow of time.”

“…/n…!”

One hand took his scaley hand and the other held his cheek, caressing softly.

“Promise you shall return?” You heard yourself mutter, this time weak and hopeless.

He leaned against your palm, purring as though it might be the last time he’ll savor your warmth.

“You know I do not make promises, ███ ███.” He spoke firmly. “What I keep are contracts. And I have vowed to make you happy, for as long as I live.”

“…(Y… (Y/n…. snap… out…!”

“Contracts normally sound so cold, but your honeyed voice makes it sound so romantic.”

“You know well, my love, in all my years, I’ve witnessed endless contracts and agreements. Whether it was tangible or verbal— each one was a significant chapter to someone’s life.”

The horned man softly detangled your fingers from his long brown hair and kissed your hand.

“But only one brought forth complete change. Our matrimonial agreement. The contract we signed gave me the most happiness. I’ve never signed a happier contract than this one.”

“And I share the same sentiment.” You cooed, almost cheeky. “And I hope our future child shall feel our love as well.”

He rested his head on your shoulder and sighed.

“The day shall come, my love.” He spoke. “Just wait for me, until I fulfilled what the Heavenly Principles desires.”

“Of course,” you hugged him back. 

“I shall wait for you, my dearest…

“(Y/N)!!!”

You flinched.

Suddenly, you’re not in the mountains. You’re not hiding under the shade of a tree with warm-hued leaves. You were…

You were sitting on a patch of grass, just outside the chasm.

And Jing Yuan is mad.

He had a cold unmerciful glare. His built frame towered above you, casting a large shadow. It was already nighttime. Normally, only the moonlight and the lamps from afar should be the only source of light here, but his golden eyes seemed to glow. As though it was ready to call forth an entity you were not prepared to face.

You know the depths of his anger. Years of living inseparable from him has made every communication almost telepathic and that hadn’t changed. You can read it in his breaths, in his stiff and tall posture, in his unnerving gaze.

He is threatening you to spill. Saying without words that:

There are fates worse than death.

But your pulse was steady. But your breathing was calm. But your expression was blank.

You weren’t terrified.

And you can read that deep down, that scared the General more.

“Nay Jung I…”

For a moment, Jing Yuan’s eyes widened— as though there was something he was the only one privy to knowing. His face had a mix of surprise and disbelief before he steeled himself.

“Nay Jung I?” He scoffed. 

“What of him?” Jing Yuan asked.

“He’s my soulmate.”

As soon as those words left your mouth, brief incoherent syllables sputtered out of his mouth. You evoked more emotions in him this time around. You saw flashes of shock, what seemed to be happiness, hope, and then utter confusion.

“...What?”

“I saw him.” You said, calm. “I saw him as soon as I touched that rock. My soulmate— he had long hair and eyes like a dragon— I think he was a dragon, and so was I. I think my soulmate is in Liyue and he’s hiding behind the name Nay Jung I.”

Jing Yuan opened his mouth, before thinning his lips.

This time, you were certain.

He was not only mad. Jing Yuan was sorely disappointed.

“I understand…” 

You know the expression on his face. You read him like a discipline you mastered in epigraphy. He thinks that… 

You have gone “cuckoo.”

He turned around, no longer facing you.

“I’m sorry then, (Y/n).” 

Jing Yuan does not sound sorry to you.

“What for?”

There was silence for a moment, before he spoke again, voice bitter and vile.

He was not sorry.

He was furious.

He was hurt.

He was jealous.

“Nay Jung I is the leader behind the past terrorist attacks.” He paused. “And I killed him.”

You haven’t recovered ever since.

Every medical “professional” you’ve encountered told you that you were hysterical. That you just hallucinated what you saw. It isn’t possible that the visions you saw were Nay Jung I anyway. 

Maybe they were right about the last part, you don’t want to believe it. 

It was in your instincts. That man had to be your husband in the past. Who cares if you came from another world? Maybe you were an Expy. You had to be. That person— the one who reminded you of a cuckoo bird in those walls— had to be you in another universe. 

It had to be.

Your real soulmate is out there.

And Nay Jung I isn’t dead.

But you’ve never been good at persuading others.

Soyourefusetobelieveityourefusetobelieveityourefusetobelieveityourefusetobelieveityourefusetobelieveityourefusetobelieveityourefusetobelieveityourefusetobelieveityourefusetobelieveityourefusetobelieveityourefusetobelieveityourefusetobelieveityourefusetobelieveityourefusetobelieveityourefusetobelieveityourefusetobelieveityourefusetobelieveityourefusetobelieveit—

“General Jing Yuan, is (Y/n)…?”

Outside the apartment, Mister Zhongli and Jing Yuan stood by the window, peaking at your form. You were so engrossed by your inner conflicts that you couldn’t hear them.

“They’ll… move on from you, eventually.” Jing Yuan spat back coldly. “I’m not the God of Contracts, but I keep promises that do not fail.”

Zhongli’s face crumpled in anguish.

“May I ask a question? Just to sate a bit of curiosity, of course.”

Jing Yuan’s eyes narrowed. Zhongli took that as a yes.

“Are you Nay Jung I?” He asked. “I did not see his name on the list of the deceased criminals—”

“Yes, he and I are the same,” Jing Yuan silenced him. “Nay Jung I is an anagram of Jing Yuan. You can reorder the letters and confirm it for yourself.”

Originally, Jing Yuan had hoped to woo you with a romantic tale of an anonymous admirer. But, in your delirium, you had mistakenly believed that Nay Jung I was the same man in your visions. 

It was repulsive.

Never before had he wished to scream so loudly. He had not felt this much anger when he discovered the crimes his old friends had done. He had not felt as betrayed as when you claimed love for Nay Jung I, but it was not him.

He wanted to summon the Lightning Lord to destroy Liyue right then and there.

It was a frustration he had never felt before. Not when he was training with Jingliu. Not when he was scolding Yanqing. Not ever.

But Jing Yuan was not an impulsive man.

He prides his patience.

He prefers to scheme quietly rather than flashing bold moves.

Jing Yuan sucked in a breath between his teeth. 

“I suppose it’s my turn to ask.”

He shut the windows and Zhongli’s heart ached as he could no longer see you.

But then he turned to look at Jing Yuan.

And he knew…

Jing Yuan is much older and wiser than he looks.

“Tell me, Rex Lapis,” he spoke sharply. “Did you wed this world’s version of (Y/n) (L/n) and leave her and her child to die?”

…

…

…

That silence was enough.

Jing Yuan’s private investigations behind your back were right.

In the vast “multi-verse”, there is a version of you that married this dragon who descended from his Archon status.

“I... have wrought upon them great suffering. I am unworthy of their affections. Should a day come where (Y/n) enacts the fury of my wife and child on their behalf, it will be justly deserved.”

Zhongli did not further elaborate.

Whatever happened in the past, it still haunted him to this day. Lingering in the back of his mind, dulling his self-confidence and wits. Maybe it’s why Yanfei thought you should investigate the cave. Maybe she wanted the alternate version of ███ ███ to come back.

But she's gone.

Jing Yuan took a step closer.

“Your wife is dead, Rex Lapis. They are my (Y/n), not yours.”

“I-… I know.” Zhongli— no— Morax spoke, voice laced with grief. “I know she and (Y/n) are not the same, however, I…”

Another step.

“If you wish for their happiness, you will continue to not speak to them. You have done enough damage.”

Morax closed his eyes mournfully. “I am well aware of this”

Another step.

“Let me take care of (Y/n). Let me make them happy.”

And another.

Jing Yuan stared deep into Morax’s soul.

In all his years of living, it didn’t occur to Morax that he’d find another familiar cuckoo again.

But it wasn’t his wife.

Jing Yuan took another step.

This man in front of him was pushing and pushing…

“Let this conversation be a verbal contract,” he said. “That I, Jing Yuan, vow to make (Y/n) happy, and that you, Rex Lapis, shall step down as a final way to atone your sins of uxoricide and filicide. Do you accept?”

Like a cuckoo throwing an egg off the nest.

Forgive me, dearest ███ ███.

I am unworthy of you, let alone this alternate incarnation of yourself.

Morax inhaled deeply. He remains in his head, yet he can't escape the present. The more time he spent searching inside himself for solutions over his approximately 6000 years in Teyvat, the more evident it became what the sensible path of action was. With open eyes, Morax welcomed the return of the present. He observed the vivid hues of existence. In the vicinity, he heard Jing Yuan's pet cuckoo bird. But most of all, he felt his age.

Whatever time was appropriate to dream of a family— it had long passed him.

I am but an old man who deserves to fade away quietly.

And he…

Has the same vigor Morax once had.

That obsessed look.

That tight, suffocating hold.

Just like staring at a reflection of himself, centuries passed.

Jing Yuan, too, was a man depraved. Worse, he is a man who lost everything, clinging only to (Y/n) as his only solace in Teyvat.

Morax noticed the way Jing Yuan took a walk with you, with one arm draping around your shoulder to ward off those he deemed unwanted.

Morax noticed the way Jing Yuan brags about you with his men in each available opportunity, socially claiming you his.

Morax noticed the way Jing Yuan glares at someone who got too close when he thought you weren’t looking, pushing suitors away.

Morax noticed the way Jing Yuan rarely talks about his story and would rather talk about something you had done, making you a large part of himself.

Morax noticed the way Jing Yuan only cares about you, and not even a sliver for himself.

He would rather not see him destroy himself the way he had done long ago.

And just like that, the General got rid of his greatest rival— Liyue’s archon and your husband from another life.

He is out of the nest.

“I accept.”

May June can now message Jing Yuan

[iliveforyouilongforyouvesuvia]

Heloo, can I ask or a HC of the M6 with a royal guard MC? I just think that's be really cool

The Arcana Mini-HCs: MC is a Royal Guard

Julian: makes way, way, way too many jokes about how much he wouldn't mind being arrested by you. it's an ongoing theme

Asra: their teenaged version of flirting was acting suspicious in front of you so they could lead you on a city wide chase to a pretty spot

Nadia: you're her guard, yes? you're responsible for her well-being, correct? you should take a closer look at her ankle, it's twisted ...

Muriel: couldn't stand the sight of your uniform at first - bad memories. it helped him accept an apology from the Palace, though

Portia: thinks the uniform is insanely attractive and loves requesting you be assigned as her *personal* body guard on embassy trips.

Lucio: kept trying to order you around at first, since he's used to being the boss of those uniforms. now you're his boss (lovingly)