irisunderglass

[irisunderglass]

in lands where sandal breezes blow, bharat's warm sun cast an amber glow. a sacred flame in hush did rise, to mirror stars in dusky skies.

he, on his brow saffron's grace, a calm resolve upon his face. she, a lotus bathed in dawn, in silks of blush finely drawn.

the saptapadi — each vow a binding, golden thread: “to nourish, honor, strive and stay, as breath to breath, as night to day. i take your hand in mine this day, to walk with you — the dharma way.”

a little something by me, for my star ♥︎ this is a very important piece to me– please do not save, thank you. love you ! (⁠ ⁠◜⁠‿⁠◝⁠ ⁠)

[irisunderglass]

🪽 - what was your first kiss with your f/o like, if you've had it?

☁️ - how does your f/o like to spend their free time with you?

🛍️ - what would your f/o get you as a gift? additionally, what would you get for them?

i didnt know who to answer these for so i went with kazuha, lyney and jing yuan !!

also ps this got super long im sorry /lh

kazuha;

🪽 - what was your first kiss with your f/o like, if you've had it?

It was gentle. So impossibly gentle, like he was afraid I’d vanish the moment our lips met. We were both quiet, almost reverent in the moment, as if speaking would ruin the fragile little world that bloomed between us. I remember the way the wind softened around us, how his hand cupped my cheek with such care—like I was something precious, something fragile, and he didn’t want to break me. He leaned in slowly, eyes flicking from my lips to my eyes and back again, giving me every chance to pull away. But I didn’t. I couldn't. And when we finally kissed… it wasn’t fireworks. It was peace. A kind of stillness I’d never known before. And when we pulled apart, he whispered my name like it was poetry. I think that was the moment I fell in love all over again.

☁️ - how does your f/o like to spend their free time with you?

He loves slow mornings with me. The kind where sunlight spills lazily through the curtains and we don’t have anywhere to be. He’ll lie on his side and trace invisible shapes along my arm while I rest against his chest. Sometimes we go on walks—no destination, just the rhythm of our footsteps and the way he’ll squeeze my hand when the wind picks up. He loves listening to me talk, even if it’s about the tiniest things. And when it rains, he’ll pull me close and recite verses while the world fades behind the sound of water and his voice. With Kazuha, even silence feels full.

🛍️ - what would your f/o get you as a gift? additionally, what would you get for them?

He’s a gift-giver that pays attention. He once handed me a folded paper crane made from a leaf he picked up during our walk, and inside was a tiny haiku he wrote just for me. Sometimes it’s a pressed flower, sometimes it’s a ribbon he thought would look pretty in my hair. Nothing loud, never grand. Just quiet, tender tokens that tell me he’s always thinking of me. As for what I’d give him... a scarf. One I made myself, even if the stitches aren’t perfect. Something warm he can take with him when he travels, with colors that remind him of home—of me. I’d tuck a letter inside the folds, too. Something he can read when the road feels long, reminding him he’s never alone.

lyney;

🪽 - what was your first kiss with your f/o like, if you've had it?

He kissed me like he couldn’t hold it in anymore. I remember the way his hands trembled—just a little—as they cupped my face, his gloves brushing my cheeks like they were something sacred. He had that look in his eyes, the one he usually gets right before he performs something dangerous onstage—equal parts excitement and terror, but focused only on me. No one else. Just me. He said my name like a question, his voice quieter than I’d ever heard it. I barely managed a breath before he leaned in and kissed me, sudden and full of longing, like he’d been waiting his whole life for that exact moment. It wasn’t careful. It wasn’t soft. It was real. And when he pulled back, his thumb lingering near my lips, he smiled that crooked little smile I adored and I was a goner. I was still catching my breath when he asked if he could do it again. I said yes. I think I’d always say yes.

☁️ - how does your f/o like to spend their free time with you?

He likes turning even our free time into a kind of performance, but only for us. He’ll pull me onto the rooftop of the Opera Epiclese late at night, just to show me card tricks under the stars. Sometimes, when it’s quiet, he’ll sit behind me while I play music, resting his chin on my shoulder, humming along in that soft voice he only uses when he’s relaxed. He enjoys making me laugh most of all—silly sleight-of-hand, dramatic reenactments, even poorly-done impersonations of his siblings. But when the masks are off and the lights are out, he loves just holding me in bed, his arms snug around my waist, whispering secrets he wouldn’t dare tell anyone else.

🛍️ - what would your f/o get you as a gift? additionally, what would you get for them?

He’d gift me something hidden inside a magic trick. Like, I’d pull a ribbon from behind his ear and it would turn into a bracelet he’d made—something delicate with little charms shaped like doves and roses. Or he’d take me to the Opera Epiclese, pull a curtain aside, and reveal a painting of me he commissioned without telling me. He loves the surprise, the thrill of my wide eyes and shocked laughter. I’d get him something he couldn’t sleight-of-hand away—a memory. A scrapbook, maybe, full of little photos and notes I’d snuck in over time. Each page a reminder that he’s more than just the showman. That he’s loved, deeply, fiercely, beyond the spotlight. Maybe I’d even hide a pressed card in there from the first time he performed for me… because I kept it. Of course I did.

jing yuan;

🪽 - what was your first kiss with your f/o like, if you've had it?

It was slow. Thoughtful. Like he was savoring something he'd waited a very long time for. Jing Yuan isn't a man who rushes, not with things that matter—and I mattered. We were sitting beneath a tree in the courtyard, late afternoon sun painting gold through the leaves, and he’d been talking about something mundane in that warm, low voice of his… until he stopped mid-sentence. He looked at me. Really looked. Like whatever he’d been about to say had vanished the second his eyes found mine. “You’re beautiful,” he murmured. I laughed—embarrassed, flustered—and that’s when he leaned in, slow as the turning seasons. His lips brushed mine like a question. When I didn’t pull away, he kissed me fully, deeply, with a kind of reverence that made my heart ache. And when he finally drew back, he touched his forehead to mine and whispered, “Finally.” Like the wait was over. Like he'd come home.

☁️ - how does your f/o like to spend their free time with you?

He likes peace. Quiet, shared peace. Days off are rare for him, so when they come, he wants them spent doing nothing—and everything—with me. Reading beside each other with our legs tangled beneath the blankets. Napping together with one of his hands resting on my waist. He likes brushing my hair out of my face while I talk, even if I'm rambling about nonsense. Sometimes he brings me into his garden. We’ll drink tea, and he’ll tell me stories from long ago, always with a smile, always watching me out of the corner of his eye to see how I react. And sometimes, when he’s feeling playful, he’ll pull me into a slow dance under the moonlight, no music but his humming and the sound of our laughter. He says time with me is the only kind he wishes would never end.

🛍️ - what would your f/o get you as a gift? additionally, what would you get for them?

Jing Yuan’s gifts always feel like whispers rather than declarations—quiet, intimate things that speak volumes without ever needing to shout. He’d give me a hair ornament: something elegant, carved from ivory-white jade, with tiny golden accents in the shape of clouds and lions. Not flashy, not extravagant—just beautiful, refined, meant for me. And he’d say something like, “This reminded me of you the moment I saw it. So I had to bring it home.” He also likes giving comfort. I know he’d have a thick, soft cloak commissioned in my favorite color, lined with silken fabric, heavy enough to keep me warm on the coldest nights—something I’d wear while waiting for him to return. Something that smells like cedarwood and his cologne after a while. And me? I’d gift him a small, handmade tea set. Each piece different but part of the same whole, glazed in hues of warm gold and storm-gray. Something imperfect, personal, uniquely ours. I’d tell him it’s so we always have reason to sit down together, to slow the world for a little while. He’d smile, lift one of the cups in that lazy, amused way, and say, “Then I suppose I’ll be drinking nothing but your tea for the rest of my life.” And he’d mean it.

[irisunderglass]

misc. selfship asks ❤︎

thank you for 400! <3 answer these asks however you'd like, but please practice reblog karma if applicable! 💌

🧸 - how would your f/o try to comfort you if you were upset? 🦢 - what's a petty argument you'd have with your f/o? 🍡 - what nicknames do you have for each other?

🪽 - what was your first kiss with your f/o like, if you've had it?

🪺 - describe your f/os perception of you before you got together, compared to what it is now! 🪷 - if the roles were reversed and your f/o was the one selfshipping with you, what would their blog look like?

🧊 - how would your f/o text you? would they use proper punctuation/capitalization, or type more informally?

🍋‍🟩 - similarly, what would your contact names be for each other?

💍 - how do you and your f/o feel about marriage?

🪻 - what's your f/o's coffee or drink order?

☁️ - how does your f/o like to spend their free time with you? 🛍️ - what would your f/o get you as a gift? additionally, what would you get for them?

🫧 - what song(s) remind you of your f/o?

🪼 - what’s your favorite way to feel closer to your f/o?

proship/comship/neutral dni

[irisunderglass]

✧ hearts entangled: jing yuan x isabel ; isayuan

✧ a glimpse through the storyglass: isabel is having trouble falling asleep.

✧ beware the thorns beneath the roses: none.

✧ scribbles from the dreamweaver: this was also entirely self indulgent. i actually fell asleep at like 4 am today so the struggle is still fresh. literally all i could think about was "jing yuan would make it better" so here we are.

shout-out to mirei for enabling me at 2 in the morning. also it took me for-fucking-ever to find the header pics yesterday i'm not changing them.

The night had long since settled over the Luofu, shrouding the city in a silken hush. Lanterns glowed faintly in the streets beyond the windows, but within their home, all was still. The bedroom was cloaked in shadows and soft warmth, the air thick with the scent of jasmine tea lingering from earlier and the quiet lull of sleep just beginning to take hold.

Jing Yuan lay back against the pillows, one arm curled gently around Isabel as she rested against him, her head on his chest, tucked beneath his chin. The rise and fall of her breathing was slow, even, but not quite asleep. He could tell—he always could. There was still a slight furrow in her brow, a faint tension in her limbs. The kind that came only when the day hadn’t quite let go of her, when her thoughts were still quietly echoing in the spaces between heartbeats.

So, he held her closer.

His hand was splayed across the curve of her back, and with a featherlight touch, he began to trace slow, steady shapes. Circles, spirals, the gentle path of a cloud rolling across the sky. There was no pattern, really—just soft movement, just care poured wordlessly into every stroke.

“You did well today,” he murmured, his voice so low it almost melted into the quiet. “Even if you think you didn’t. I know you did.”

Isabel made a small, sleepy sound. She shifted, pressing her nose lightly to his chest, and he felt her shoulders slowly begin to loosen beneath his hand.

“Do you remember the café near the harbor?” he murmured, pressing his cheek lightly to her hair. “The one with the terrible chairs, but the fluffiest almond cakes in all of Xianzhou?”

She didn’t answer, but her fingers twitched slightly where they rested near his ribs.

“They burn the tea every time,” he said, lips tilting into a faint smile. “But you keep going back. Claim it's for the view.” He paused, glancing down at her. “I know it's for the old woman’s cat. The one that keeps jumping into your lap.”

A soft exhale left her. It wasn’t quite a laugh—but close. Jing Yuan’s hand never stopped moving, painting weightless shapes into her back, easing her into stillness.

His fingers glided up to her shoulder, then back down the slope of her spine. His touch was the consistency of rain against paper—light, rhythmic, persistent. The kind of affection he gave only when there were no eyes watching, when it was just her and the moment and the steady rhythm of his heart.

“Sometimes I think you don’t even realize the way you carry people. The way you take the weight and keep walking anyway.”

He paused, brushing his lips against the crown of her head, breathing in the familiar, comforting scent of her hair. Her breathing had slowed, her lashes fluttering softly against his skin. Still awake, but drifting. He continued, softer now.

“I wish I could take it from you. Every worry, every shadow that tries to follow you home.” Another shape traced between her shoulder blades, this time a slow, lazy figure-eight. “But I’ll settle for this. For holding you until they fade.”

Outside, the wind stirred gently through the trees, rustling the leaves with the sound of whispered secrets. Mimi let out a soft huff from the foot of the bed, shifting her enormous paws before resettling with a low, content rumble.

Isabel let out a slow, sleepy breath.

He smiled.

“I’ll be here in the morning,” he said, not because she needed the reminder, but because he needed to say it. “When you open your eyes. When you stretch and yawn and try to pretend you didn’t drool on my chest.”

That drew a faint hum from her, the tiniest twitch of her lips against his skin. Jing Yuan laughed, quiet and fond.

“Caught you,” he teased softly, running his hand down her back one more time.

His fingers stilled when he felt her breathing shift. Long and steady now. Deep. Her brow was smooth, her lips parted just slightly. The last traces of tension had melted away, replaced by the heaviness of real sleep.

He stayed like that for a long moment, simply watching her. Letting the warmth of her soak into him. Letting himself marvel at how lucky he was—how soft the world could be, in her arms.

Then, very gently, he leaned down, lips brushing her forehead.

A kiss—quiet, reverent, full of everything he couldn’t say while she was awake to hear it.

He lingered there a moment longer before pulling back, his breath slow, content.

“Sleep well, Isabel,” he whispered. “My heart.”

And with one last curl of his arm around her waist, Jing Yuan let his eyes close too, finally surrendering to the stillness of the night, wrapped in the only peace he ever needed: her.

carved names upon the storytree: @femivi , @milk-violet , @lexisism , @floraldresvi , @unriding ♡︎ Please let me know if you'd like to be added or taken out !

@irisunderglass. do not re-upload, copy, translate, etc. my works on any form of media, do not feed my works to ai.

[irisunderglass]

✧ hearts entangled: jing yuan x isabel ; isayuan

✧ a glimpse through the storyglass: isabel falls asleep with mimi while waiting for jing yuan to come back.

✧ beware the thorns beneath the roses: none.

✧ scribbles from the dreamweaver: this was entirely self-indulgent, i've been really sleepy lately. and i have a smaller mimi to keep me company when i nap haha

also i'm aware lions cannot purr. let me live my dream.

The key clicked softly in the door, but Jing Yuan didn’t step inside right away. He stood for a moment on the threshold of the home he shared with Isabel, eyes closed, exhaling the weight of the day.

The Luofu had felt longer than usual. Reports, meetings, endless questions that required precise answers—and smiles he didn’t entirely mean. It all melted away as the familiar scent of home greeted him: warm tea, fresh linen, the faintest trace of candle wax and something sweet that always lingered after Isabel baked.

He finally entered, careful to shut the door behind him quietly, as if not to disturb something sacred.

"Isabel?" he called softly, voice low and warm, but there was no reply.

His brow furrowed slightly—not with worry, but with curiosity. The house was unusually quiet, and yet... still alive. Slippers sat by the shoe rack, and one of her hair ties had been abandoned on the entryway table. The lights were dimmed in that soft, deliberate way Isabel always set in the evening, casting a golden glow across the floors and walls.

He moved slowly through the house, unhurried, taking in the little signs of her presence like they were drops of water after a long drought. A blanket tossed over the couch, one of her mugs still faintly warm on the coffee table. The smell of tea drifted faintly from the kitchen.

Jing Yuan’s steps carried him toward the bedroom—and then he paused.

The door was cracked open just slightly. Enough for warm light to spill through, and just enough for him to see a large, unmistakable tuft of white fur peeking out.

A low, rumbling purr met his ears. It shook the doorframe faintly.

Ah. So that’s where they were.

He pushed the door open gently, a smile tugging at his lips—and there they were.

Isabel lay fast asleep atop the blankets, curled like a cat herself, one arm draped across the enormous, slumbering form of Mimi. The lion had taken up nearly half the bed, white mane fluffed like clouds around them both, her tail lazily flicking near Isabel’s feet.

Jing Yuan’s heart melted in a way he didn’t think it was physically capable of doing anymore.

He stood in the doorway for a long moment, drinking it in. Isabel’s face was tucked gently against Mimi’s side, peaceful, her breathing even. One of her hands was fisted loosely in the lion’s fur, as though she’d fallen asleep mid-pet. Mimi’s paw—larger than Jing Yuan’s head, and armed with claws that had once terrified entire battalions—was draped protectively over Isabel’s back.

It was ridiculous. It was domestic. It was everything.

Jing Yuan didn’t dare speak. He just stepped forward quietly and sat on the edge of the bed, watching the two of them breathe together, side by side. He leaned down to press a kiss to Isabel’s hair, brushing her cheek softly with the backs of his knuckles. She stirred, just a little, murmuring something incoherent as her nose wrinkled.

“Shh,” he whispered, smoothing his palm down her arm. “I’m home.”

Mimi huffed, opening one eye. Her ear twitched at him before she let out a deep, rumbling yawn and laid her head back down.

“Good work, Mimi,” he said, voice low and amused. “As fierce a guardian as ever.”

The lion gave a purr in reply and nuzzled closer to Isabel, satisfied.

Jing Yuan chuckled under his breath. Slowly, carefully, he lay down beside them, tucking himself into the small remaining space between you and Mimi’s massive, warm body. He could feel Isabel’s breath against his collarbone now, her hand unconsciously shifting to rest against his chest in sleep.

She was still wearing one of his old robes—too long for her, the sleeves always falling past her fingers—and he could feel his heart squeeze again at the sight of it. She always claimed it was “because it’s soft,” but he knew better.

He curled an arm around her waist, thumb stroking lazy circles into her side.

He had fought battles, led armies, faced chaos, and endured centuries—but none of it compared to the quiet triumph of this. Coming home to Isabel. To Mimi. To soft warmth, and a bed not made for one.

His eyes fluttered closed as the rumbling purr returned, deep and steady beside him.

This was the reward, wasn’t it? Not glory, not power. Just this. Just the softness of Isabel’s breath, the tickle of her hair against his chin, and the gentle weight of her resting so easily against him.

Home.

carved names upon the storytree: @femivi , @milk-violet , @lexisism , @floraldresvi , @unriding ♡︎ Please let me know if you'd like to be added or taken out !

@irisunderglass. do not re-upload, copy, translate, etc. my works on any form of media, do not feed my works to ai.

[irisunderglass]

HI HI

isayuan + forever maybe?

original ask game 🎠 -> isabel x jing yuan [ promise ]

they spoke of forever beneath a sky that did not listen. hands clasped in defiance of time, as if love could carve permanence into dust. but stars fall, and vows fade. one will wait in silence, while the other forgets the sound of waiting. still — in the sharpest hour, when the world forgets their names, a breath, a memory, a feeling lingers: not enough to hold, but too much to let go.

[irisunderglass]

I mean this very genuinely: please tell me about your self ships!! :3

hi buggf !!! IM SO SORRY I GOT TO THIS LATE BUT ID BE HAPPY TO YAP TO YOU ABOUT MY ONLY WELL DEVELOPED SELFSHIP SO FARRR ( psspspsppsp @nervocat @dewberrydusk @lexisism )

MAJOR SPOILERS FOR AMPHOREUS UTC‼️‼️‼️

✧ ── YUADEI ⊱

I am a professional artist in Okhema from a remote frontier village, Aedes Elysiae—the same village as Phainon! Both of us are Chrysos Heirs, but only Phainon is actively participating in the Flame-Chase Journey; I don’t really plan on becoming a demigod anytime soon and I’m content with that. Aglaea and Tribbie understood, only the three that I just mentioned know that I have golden blood — no one else.

I officially met Mydei through Phainon, but I have heard of his name in passing from the citizens of Okhema! We only exchanged brief pleasantries at that point in time, but we started seeing each other more at my close friend Isabel ( @dewberrydusk )’s bakery. At some point, after seeing my art, Mydei took an interest in me and began to make a conscious effort to interact with me more. I wasn’t all that interested at first, but as I got to know him more, I started to admire him a lot…

I am someone who’s generally aware of my feelings and all, so it didn’t take me very long to realize that I was starting to fall in love with Mydei. But I was also aware of the our current statuses and the state of Amphoreus as a whole. Mydei was a Chrysos Heir, I was not. Mydei was a prince who was fated to take up the coreflame of Strife, I was not. I knew that. I didn’t want to be setting myself up for more heartbreak when the day eventually came for Mydei’s ascension to demigodhood, so I started avoiding him day by day, telling myself that it was for our own good. Even if it hurt me to do that to him.

Mydei noticed my changing behavior towards him pretty quickly. He may be unwilling to admit it, but seeing me avoid him at every turn made something ache badly in his chest. He’s grown fond of me when we started to talk more, and my behavior really made it feel like we were back to square one. He’s not one to beat around the bush, so one day in the Garden of Life when it was just the two of us, he pulled me aside before I could slip away again and confronted me about my behavior. There was no point in being stubborn when I was quite literally cornered, so I ended up telling him everything, from the reason why I was avoiding him to the way he makes me feel by just being in my presence.

He understood; my worries weren’t unfounded, and there was essentially little way to squeeze in a romantic relationship in a dystopian world that was already full of destruction and suffering. But he also told me that he was willing to make this work between the two of us — if I was willing to have him. And if I didn’t, that would be just fine with him as well — sure, it’d hurt ( a lot ), but he cares about my comfort and well-being more than he cared for his own. But ultimately, despite knowing that this relationship may end up in flames ( not by our own fault ), I chose to love him, just as he chose to love me.

The start of our relationship wasn’t as smooth-sailing as others may expect it to be; we had to compromise a lot for each other ( especially when it came to our busy schedules ), and both of us each had our own emotional baggage that we were unwilling to dump unto the other, but in a few months’ time, we learned how to work our way around that and learn how to love each other fully. After all, love isn’t just about being affectionate with one another, it’s also about being there for each other when the times are difficult and rough.

Now, this is Amphoreus spoilers from here on out.

After Mydei claimed the divine authority of Strife and planned to depart from Okhema to return to Castrum Kremnos, I was the second to last person he said goodbye to. Over the years, I’ve grown used to goodbyes, but this was always the goodbye that hurt the most — not because it was unexpected, but because I knew it was only a matter of time before it happened. I nearly “shut down” on Mydei when he told me that he was planning to go back to his “home.” At that moment, I didn’t say anything, didn’t cry, didn’t plead for him to stay — just… quiet resignation and acceptance. It broke Mydei’s heart to see me in that state once more, but duty called. He gave me one last goodbye hug and kiss before he left. ( Bonus: before leaving Okhema, Mydei had asked Phainon to look out for me while he was gone. Phainon merely chuckled, answering with a, “I’ve been doing that way before you have, y’know.” )

For the next several weeks after Mydei’s departure, I wasn’t really the same. Sure, I still interacted with others, engaged in playful, witty banter with Phainon and all my other friends, but on the inside, I was still feeling the heavy heartache that arose when the one I loved left me. I knew it couldn’t be helped, it was all for the Flame-Chase Journey, but that didn’t make it hurt any less. There were even times where it was just too much and I ended up crying for hours in front of my brother figure, Phainon. I was almost inconsolable. I did get a bit better with time, but I still thought about Mydei everyday.

Then, the citizens’ assembly regarding the continuation of the Flame-Chase Journey was just around the corner. I never mentioned this to anyone, not even the person closest to me at the time ( Phainon ), but I felt myself being followed, their presence consistently weighing heavy in the back of my mind. I thought it must’ve just been my paranoia ( something I developed over the years since the destruction of Aedes Elysiae ). After the conclusion of the citizens’ assembly, I travelled to the “Abyss of Fate,” Janusopolis, in search of inspiration for my next artistic piece. That’s when my stalkers struck —

I was ambushed by “The Cleaners” — a group of assassins who are tasked with killing those with golden blood, AKA Chrysos Heirs, for the Council of Elders. I was pierced through the heart by one of their daggers — the same way Aglaea was murdered by the Cleaners. I didn’t scream. I didn’t cry for help. For who would come to my aid in a place as barren and abandoned as the Abyss of Fate? I died a secluded death; no one noticed. I died knowing no one would come to save me, knowing Mydei wouldn’t save me as he’d done numerous times before.

“I hated… that the last memory… I have of you… is your final goodbye to me…”

Mydei never found out. He never found out that I was killed. He never found out that I had golden blood. He never found out that I died thinking about him. When darkness befell Okhema after Cipher’s death — Kephale having long since stopped shining their light upon Okhema — he thought that I already evacuated along with the other Okheman citizens. He didn’t think that I died with a lonely smile on my face, didn’t think that he would possibly outlive me. When he failed to distract the Flame Reaver for long, the consequence of his failure being his own death, his last thought after Phainon… was me.

“Even if I die… at least… she gets to live another day…”

[irisunderglass]

you’re still the ending i never got right.

HAILING ALL YUADEI SHIPPERS !!! @milk-violet @lexisism @dewberrydusk @nervocat @floraldresvi i sacrificed my screentime and my sanity for this.

[irisunderglass]

guys.

i miss yuan

[irisunderglass]

i miss jing yuan :(

[irisunderglass]

🪽 maybe jing yuan + "if only for tonight" by some sundays? :3 i've been thinking about it for a while now :')

hello isabel <33 oo i'm interested in this.. i've listened to the song a few times and it has such a lovely summery carefree vibe.. it made me think of sneaking out.. doing things that make you remember times long since past...

some suggested listening: "you're here that's the thing" by beabadoobee, "past lives" by real estate, + "juna" by clairo <3

"oh, general, if i'd known you'd take so long, i might have suggested an alternate route..."

you lean against the doorway, cool breeze swiping along your ankles. the handles of your bag, filled to its very limits with still-warm street food, weigh heavily against your palms. the last of the evening's light is fading away behind you, and it leaves the stairwell (and its golden-eyed occupant) layered in tart pink light.

"you seem a bit impatient," he teases, placing his hand on your hip as he finally catches up to you.

"let's not forget that it was you who suggested coming here," you say. wrinkling your nose at him, you step outside.

from here, you can see clear down aurum alley to its edge. when he looks, jing yuan feels it in his chest: heavy and warm like honey, tinged with something cool at the edge.

"you have a weird look on your face," you tell him.

he carries on watching the horizon for a moment, then moves his attention to you.

"do i?"

but it's not that weird. no—truly, it's that he looks serious. when you're with him, he so often appears relaxed. brow unwrinkled, lips gently upturned, eyes gleaming with joy or contentment or mischief. now, though, you watch has he approaches the ledge, as he runs his hand over the surface of the stone barrier.

how many times must he have been here?

you hum. "do you want to eat?" you reach up to touch a strand of his hair, tucking it away from his eyes.

at last, his features seem to melt. jing yuan smiles, and his head tilts ever so slightly into the press of your fingertips. his hand is warm on your back when he brings you closer.

"could we just look for a moment longer?"

+ ask game ( open! )

[irisunderglass]

❝ A garden where lovebirds sing in twilight hush and heartstrings weave stories only soulmates could know.❞

❥ Kazuha x Isabel ; Kazubel - Hearthwind.

Awaiting letters...

୨୧ ⏔⏔⏔⏔♡⏔⏔⏔⏔ ୨୧

❥ Lyney x Isabel ; Lynabel - Nocturnelle.

Awaiting letters...

୨୧ ⏔⏔⏔⏔♡⏔⏔⏔⏔ ୨୧

❥ Jing Yuan x Isabel; Isayuan - Aurethunder.

➷ Falling asleep with mimi.

➷ trouble falling asleep.

୨୧ ⏔⏔⏔⏔♡⏔⏔⏔⏔ ୨୧

❥ Aventurine x Isabel ; Avenbel - Fortunelle.

Awaiting letters...

୨୧ ⏔⏔⏔⏔♡⏔⏔⏔⏔ ୨୧

❥ Aglaea x Isabel ; Isalaea - Goldenbelle.

Awaiting letters...

[irisunderglass]

❝ A guide to help you get around.❞

❥ the garden gate. - navigation

❥ daydream files. - selfship related posts

❥ my spellbound heart : (ship name) - specific selfships

❥ diary of (name). - selfships of my friends

❥ letters in bloom. - answered asks

❥ inked petals : (name) - mutuals

❥ scattered flowers. - musings

[irisunderglass]

愛してます

❥ Archive

❥ Tags

❥ Main blog ; @dewberrydusk

❥ Current Events ; none.

今も、そして死んでも、私はあなたを愛します。