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Butterfly's Dream

@jadeburdened / jadeburdened.tumblr.com

Indie Guardian Yaksha Xiao
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Windborne Wraith

Independent and Private blog for Xiao from G.enshin Impac.t

▪️ Presently extremely low-activity. Mobile-bound.

▪️ 18+ only. Mature and dark themes present (feel free to ask to tag).

▪️ Mains and Singleship with @riteburdened

▪️ Contract signed by Shi.

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jadeburdened

Xiaobèi patiently perched on Tao's bedroom windowsill, clutching a teal-coloured pouch of sweets as a present for whatever romantic event the mortals have claimed for this day.

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riteburdened

Rarely did the Director return home before dawn and this shift was no exception; pink rays of the rising sun colouring the lifting sky as morning encroaches upon Liyue. The world is still mostly silent but would not be for much longer as the bustle of commerce soon would begin to pick up. Thankfully after many years of a nocturnal routine they have learned to sleep through it where necessary.

The silent visitor escapes Hu Tao's notice at first as their bedroom window is not on the same side of the building as the entrance, only capturing their attention from the other side of the glass once the room is entered. Swiftly they push the window up, then grab Xiao's chin between thumb and forefinger to wordlessly greet their adeptus love with a kiss, smiling into the contact.

"Were you waiting long for me, Xiaogān? I would have moved the window box if I'd known to expect company!" For indeed Xiao was perched with their feet and legs carefully placed to not disturb the flowers. It can't have been a comfortable position. So concerned are they about their beloved's potential cramped aches, as well as overjoyed with seeing them, that they do not notice the pouch clutched in hand as they urge Xiao to climb inside.

They hardly ever mind the wait when it comes to Hu Tao, but they do find themself so starved for affection the moment tender digits pull them close for a kiss; Xiao almost sighs when they part.

"It doesn't matter," comes their response with a shrug, looking down at their crouched position and then back to Tao's face where concern is present-- which is thoroughly unnecessary. This mortal disguise may be frailer than their own forms, but it will not tire so easily from such a position or setting. "But welcome back. Was your day eventful?"

Light and graceful as air they hop into the room, boot soles hardly making a sound upon wooden floors. They instantly beeline to the bed with the assumption that the Director would want to settle into it soon. But first-- "I have offerings, if you have time to spare."

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vishapsking
They spend a whole minute of staring wordlessly at the diamond mark peeking from the window that the traditional Liyue windowed garment provides. "My lord, what does this do?" Pokes.

random asks. @jadeburdened / always accepting !

It's piercing; like a well shot arrow through a sunsettia. It isn't as though Retuo has not noticed the stareーit's impossible not to! Especially when the other's gaze was so focused on a singular area of their body. Perhaps if the Dragon King was human, they'd feel something akin to embarrassment, but alas, they are not.

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Lips part to reply to the yaksha but before they are able, a light but deliberate jab beats them to the proverbial punch. Retuo blinks down at the finger gently prodding the aurous marking on their chest.

"It serves no function, Alatus," Retuo says nonchalantly while keeping an eye on the appendage. "It is..." they pause to think of the word, "ornamental."

Amber gaze lift slightly to Alatus' forehead. Squints. The Dragon King lifts their claws up and pokes at the curious marking. "We shall return the question then. What does this do, Alatus?"

Another poke.

"Please enlighten this one."

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jadeburdened
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Slight recoil from the mirrored action-- which Alatus does not blame their lord for, now realizing that it must have been rude of them to do so in the first place.

But the decorated spot is rather tender. "Nnh--" Even more now that it is poked a second time.

"This is a báiháo, my lord," they mumble politely, curious of the fact that Lord Retuo isn't yet familiar with the imagery. They pause for some seconds to gather their thoughts of what little information they remember from their past. "It represents... a third eye, and my existence as an illuminated beast and role as adeptus."

Plenty of details on their false human disguise are mere embellishments, either recommended to Alatus by trusted figures or they are simply details they've ended up copying from the humanoid disguises of those dearest to the illuminated avian. Their báiháo, gradient-marked limbs, and the permanent crimson lines framing their eyes existed on their beast form, and there was no harm in bringing them over onto their human façade.

But in their mind, the forehead marking is more than just decoration. Which is why they initially thought that Lord Retuo's markings might have similar purposes.

"... So your chest markings do not represent some sort of powerful ability?"

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vishapsking
Send “Amortentia” for an extremely extra aesthetic description of your muse. @jadeburdened / accepting !

You are broken. Sands slipping through the cracks that line your body. Wear and tear rips you to shreds. Dreams shattered and nightmares unleashed. You exhale sacrifices built on madness. Mask donned, you lose yourself. Atlas once carried a burden, yours only grows. It seeps out like sand and coils around your limbs. Time runs out, you're buried in regret. Drowning in mires of the past.

You are destruction. Your ascension came with a fall, chained talons and bloodied wings. These shackles have held you for years, for millennia, for far, far too long. A deconstruction of the past. It's a Calling from above. Blood is paid in blood, paving a crimson path towards peace laid to rest. Stained by sullied ambitions: no good deed goes unpunished.

When the iron breaks will you claw your way to salvation or bring ruination? It goes with you like a lingering ghost, clinging and whispering in your ear. Sweet nothings of a lover who calls to you.

You are a promise unbroken. It speaks your name into the wind. Calling. A Contract destined to be seen through. Hopes and dreams pile 'pon your back. Words carried on from another millennia from lives extinguished by madness, you carry them with you. Memories of another era, another time. Last of your creed, you lament. You continue on.

Alone.

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