zephyrnes

[zephyrnes]

excited to announce that upon my (maybe, potential, hopeful, who knows truly) return to tumblr dot com, i am returning one degree hotter >:)

[zephyrnes]

WHEW hi hello sorry friends that i have been so very inactive life has not been very kind recently.. but i did just submit two short stories to a writing contest and am working on editing a third...... but i am trying!! to come onto this silly app even if it's for like 5 min a day!

but if anyone would like to go yap crazy on discord..... trust i am on there more and i have many a thought

[zephyrnes]

Long time no see, guys. Hello everyone 😌

[zephyrnes]

happy birthday ayato! 🩵🧋

[zephyrnes]

first attempt at moze

[zephyrnes]

penny for your spirei thoughts pretty pleek spirit!!!!! 🪙🤲 how many lifetimes has it been since your stars first aligned… have there been any moments in the current timeline where you both are hit with such an intense wave of deja vu?? 🥺 i would love to know if you so feel like sharing!!!!!! okies i adore you that is all :3

ahhh coco!! ty for the question and i am SO SO sorry it has taken me forever to get to it!!

i’d say.. 7 lifetimes, this being our 8th (notice how an 8 is an infinity sign but vertical and that 8 is a lucky number anyways hehe) in this current lifetime, mydei and i end up in the same spot a little too often to be considered coincidence sometimes. the first time we feel that intense tug is when he catches me off guard, staring out at clouds from a secluded courtyard at marmoreal market. he’s not exactly pleased to be there, as he had just argued over something rather trivial, but phainon had clapped him on the back and pushed him in my direction to “talk to one another and make it up, or make out whatever you both--“ mydei had shoved him away, but still found himself coming after me. he finds me sitting on the wide railing, leaning against the stone pillars and staring out at the sky. he makes his presence known by clearing his throat and going to lean against the pillar across from me, arms crossed and clearly putting up a front. but that position we are in, for some reason, feels all too familiar. we are shrouded by the privacy of branches and leaves, of plants that grow alongside crumbling stone. it is ruin and rebirth, bound together again. 

um! and then and then i also like to imagine that as our relationship progresses, mydei likes to tuck flowers in my hair. he reaches to tuck the stems into my hair, instructing me to hold still while he focuses. and if i’m feeling particularly defiant he’ll gently grip my chin and murmur to “hold still, pretty girl.”

i also like to think that when we spar and i occasionally win (bc he lets me, let's be honest), mydei especially gets hit with intense deja vu when i can't help but drop my stance and composure and happily celebrate my victory!!

i just sighed aloud typing this. i went from all serious to something silly but i have all these thoughts in my head i’m just. struggling to get them out sob sob.. anyways.. i rmb seeing it at work and i was like ok i need to think about this more and then life hit me and my period hit me td but I HAVE FINALLY ANSWERED

[zephyrnes]

my roommate is sitting across from me eating an avocado knowing damn well that is a dangerous item to me

[zephyrnes]

print available!

[zephyrnes]

𝓈𝓅𝒾𝓇𝑒𝒾 : spirit x medei

in a crumbling era, the king of castrum kremnos and the lady of the wind struggle to defy a fate that seems destined to destroy everything. though, bound by a unbreakable pull across all timelines, their love persists and finds a way to bloom.

for @zephyrnes ♡

[zephyrnes]

An extremely impulsive Anaxagoras

[zephyrnes]

𝐖𝐇𝐈𝐋𝐄 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐖𝐄𝐑𝐄 𝐒𝐋𝐄𝐄𝐏𝐈𝐍𝐆 —

wriothesley ⋮ genshin impact

warnings: a hint of suggestiveness wc: 0.9k notes: for @popheartz ty for the idea ! and yes it's the laufey title so all fluff i promise

you say wriothesley’s name when you think he can’t hear, pretend his name is a secret that you whisper to the silence of your room. it rolls off your tongue gently, as if worried that each syllable might wake him in the peaceful quiet in the early morning. light peeks in through the curtained windows, a bit dim from the partly cloudy sky outside and you’re thankful that it’s not bright enough to wake wrio.

said man sleeps beside you, face pressed against the pillows and he sprawls out on his stomach across the bed. you find it both heartwarming and sad the way it took him time to be okay with stretching out across the bed, so used to curling up into himself when he was younger. he’d come over to your home on the surface the previous afternoon with tea and snacks (bundled in a picnic basket too, he was quite proud of himself), eager for your stay-at-home date. it’s not often that wriothesley stays the night, after all his job requires his utmost attention, so you soak up the time you have with him.

“maybe i should stir up some trouble in the pankration ring,” wriothesley had grinned boyishly. “gives me an excuse to blow off some steam, come up to the surface to drop off paperwork to neuvillette. then i can stay with you. or you could help me—”

“wriothesley,” you gave him an exasperated look. it was almost comical how his expression deflated into a pout and his tufts of hair that stuck up also seem to droop. he continued to bemoan dramatically that you’re a heartless lover and must not enjoy his presence until you shut him up with a peck to his lips. 

but in this moment that you’ve woken up before him, try to remember the gentle expression painted across his face. his hold on you is loose, allowing for enough movement to untangle yourself from his warmth and savor the next few minutes you know you’ll have before wrio wakes. when he stays the night at yours, he’s always rising along with the sun, pressing lingering kisses to your skin as he murmurs about having to get ready for the day soon. he’s always running late (by his standards) but refuses to leave unless he gets his proper fill of you.

wriothesley. you test each syllable. he’s known by many names: the duke of meropide, your grace, the duke, wriothesley, wrio (but only for you). each title holds a weight to it, sometimes with admiration, other times with disdain. so if you can say it with as much love as he deserves, maybe he won’t feel so uncomfortable about the way his name sounds from others.

he won’t tell you that he’s come to adore it when you say his name, so different and warm from what he’s known. wriothesley remembers the sickeningly sweet sound of his mother’s voice calling his name. he first remembers the way it sounded down the hall as he curled into himself, trying to pretend that he wasn’t going to be next in line. then how it fell from neuvillette’s mouth, a criminal sentence that sent him far below the surface. his name is one that is etched into history of the pankration ring, the chant of a victor of ruins. though now most address him formally, tacking on a title he doesn’t quite feel as if he’s lived up to. 

but then you say his name so delicately, that for a moment he asks if that’s how his name can really sound. wriothesley steadies his breathing as he lays quiet, relishes in the way you gently card your fingers through the end of his hair, careful to avoid potentially tugging at the tangles from sleep. 

“do you need something, darling?” his voice is rough, laced with sleep and half muffled by the pillow. “or do you just love saying my name that much?” 

you pull your hand away and clear your throat. “how long have you been awake?”

“long enough to hear you whisper my name over and over,” wriotheley teases, twisting so he can look up at you. his eyes are still bleary and hazy, hair a mess, and voice crackling, but he looks up at you with such a lovesick grin.

“any other ways you want to say my name?” he hums, reaching for your hand. you let him guide your knuckles to his lips, pressing a gentle kiss as he stares at you through his lashes. it’s impossible to look away, not when he promises so much in those ice blue eyes of his. 

you ignore his previous words, much to his disappointment and instead ask, “what time must you go?”

“kicking me out already, darling?” he huffs. but wriothesley knows what you’re trying to ask. how much more time do i have with you before you return to the fortress? he glances over at the brightening light that filters into the room and the clock hanging on your wall. he looks at the trinkets and decor that sit on the shelves and the bedside table. his own items scattered amongst yours, as if they’d always fit this perfectly in your space.

“not anytime soon. let’s rest a bit more.” he decides and wriggles closer to you, snaking one hand around your waist and encouraging you to lie back down and tuck yourself into him.

when he presses a kiss to your forehead you faintly hear him murmur something under his breath but you don’t press. the way he hugs you a bit tighter says everything you need to know.

[zephyrnes]

🫶🏻

[zephyrnes]

Wriothesley's perfect cup

[zephyrnes]

𝐖𝐇𝐈𝐋𝐄 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐖𝐄𝐑𝐄 𝐒𝐋𝐄𝐄𝐏𝐈𝐍𝐆 —

wriothesley ⋮ genshin impact

warnings: a hint of suggestiveness wc: 0.9k notes: for @popheartz ty for the idea ! and yes it's the laufey title so all fluff i promise

you say wriothesley’s name when you think he can’t hear, pretend his name is a secret that you whisper to the silence of your room. it rolls off your tongue gently, as if worried that each syllable might wake him in the peaceful quiet in the early morning. light peeks in through the curtained windows, a bit dim from the partly cloudy sky outside and you’re thankful that it’s not bright enough to wake wrio.

said man sleeps beside you, face pressed against the pillows and he sprawls out on his stomach across the bed. you find it both heartwarming and sad the way it took him time to be okay with stretching out across the bed, so used to curling up into himself when he was younger. he’d come over to your home on the surface the previous afternoon with tea and snacks (bundled in a picnic basket too, he was quite proud of himself), eager for your stay-at-home date. it’s not often that wriothesley stays the night, after all his job requires his utmost attention, so you soak up the time you have with him.

“maybe i should stir up some trouble in the pankration ring,” wriothesley had grinned boyishly. “gives me an excuse to blow off some steam, come up to the surface to drop off paperwork to neuvillette. then i can stay with you. or you could help me—”

“wriothesley,” you gave him an exasperated look. it was almost comical how his expression deflated into a pout and his tufts of hair that stuck up also seem to droop. he continued to bemoan dramatically that you’re a heartless lover and must not enjoy his presence until you shut him up with a peck to his lips. 

but in this moment that you’ve woken up before him, try to remember the gentle expression painted across his face. his hold on you is loose, allowing for enough movement to untangle yourself from his warmth and savor the next few minutes you know you’ll have before wrio wakes. when he stays the night at yours, he’s always rising along with the sun, pressing lingering kisses to your skin as he murmurs about having to get ready for the day soon. he’s always running late (by his standards) but refuses to leave unless he gets his proper fill of you.

wriothesley. you test each syllable. he’s known by many names: the duke of meropide, your grace, the duke, wriothesley, wrio (but only for you). each title holds a weight to it, sometimes with admiration, other times with disdain. so if you can say it with as much love as he deserves, maybe he won’t feel so uncomfortable about the way his name sounds from others.

he won’t tell you that he’s come to adore it when you say his name, so different and warm from what he’s known. wriothesley remembers the sickeningly sweet sound of his mother’s voice calling his name. he first remembers the way it sounded down the hall as he curled into himself, trying to pretend that he wasn’t going to be next in line. then how it fell from neuvillette’s mouth, a criminal sentence that sent him far below the surface. his name is one that is etched into history of the pankration ring, the chant of a victor of ruins. though now most address him formally, tacking on a title he doesn’t quite feel as if he’s lived up to. 

but then you say his name so delicately, that for a moment he asks if that’s how his name can really sound. wriothesley steadies his breathing as he lays quiet, relishes in the way you gently card your fingers through the end of his hair, careful to avoid potentially tugging at the tangles from sleep. 

“do you need something, darling?” his voice is rough, laced with sleep and half muffled by the pillow. “or do you just love saying my name that much?” 

you pull your hand away and clear your throat. “how long have you been awake?”

“long enough to hear you whisper my name over and over,” wriotheley teases, twisting so he can look up at you. his eyes are still bleary and hazy, hair a mess, and voice crackling, but he looks up at you with such a lovesick grin.

“any other ways you want to say my name?” he hums, reaching for your hand. you let him guide your knuckles to his lips, pressing a gentle kiss as he stares at you through his lashes. it’s impossible to look away, not when he promises so much in those ice blue eyes of his. 

you ignore his previous words, much to his disappointment and instead ask, “what time must you go?”

“kicking me out already, darling?” he huffs. but wriothesley knows what you’re trying to ask. how much more time do i have with you before you return to the fortress? he glances over at the brightening light that filters into the room and the clock hanging on your wall. he looks at the trinkets and decor that sit on the shelves and the bedside table. his own items scattered amongst yours, as if they’d always fit this perfectly in your space.

“not anytime soon. let’s rest a bit more.” he decides and wriggles closer to you, snaking one hand around your waist and encouraging you to lie back down and tuck yourself into him.

when he presses a kiss to your forehead you faintly hear him murmur something under his breath but you don’t press. the way he hugs you a bit tighter says everything you need to know.

[zephyrnes]

[zephyrnes]

she started it 🫵

how am i supposed to go about my day when miss spirit is dropping bombs in my dms

[zephyrnes]

good morning and happy wednesday dearest friends!! i hope your day is off to a lovely start or if it’s just ending, i hope it was full of whimsy and fun :D i’m sending you all much love, make sure you take care, stay warm, and do something for yourself <3

it’s so very windy here again and the problem with me is that i’ll see (and feel, via a door hitting my face) that i will be cold but then i’ll still put on tights and my denim mini skirt bc i am a strong independent woman and the wind will not stop me from serving on campus