I hope you guys enjoyed all the stuff I created for my fav ship!
See you in 2024 for another awesome week hopefully!
All the content for Rosebird week is at Higher Quality on Patreon!
https://www.patreon.com/cyanorangestudio
@rosebird-week
Redraw of a scene from Good Hunting (series; Love Death Robots) my fav episode, thought it would be an awesome concept for these lovebirds
Rosebird Week 2023 continues! @rosebird-week I loved drawing them with lots of fluff for this one! 💖🪶🌹HQ available in Patreon!
https://www.patreon.com/cyanorangestudio
Silver eyes come with another little gift: the ability to see the threads binding their destiny together. The people who would be their enemies, family, friends, lovers, even killers—the most important architects of one’s life—can be seen with just one glimpse of their ribbon. Different colours signified different destinies.
Summer meets Raven, a girl entangled in her own web of fate, and discovers soulmates aren’t so cut and dry as she thought.
Rosebird Week 2023 Day 1: Red Thread of Fate
wordcount: 6,159
So here's my fic for @rosebird-week 's first prompt! This one got out of control quickly, but uh, maybe I'll write a sequel fic to it to cover the stuff I didn't get to yet. This fic is pre-relationship (but you know they're down bad for each other) but future entries for the week they are soooo dating and married and a little bit divorced <33
snippet below cut
Summer’s life is made of strings. It’s not something she can ever pinpoint beginning, nor does she remember when she realised no one else saw the world made up of tiny, inconsequential strings like she does. The threads cannot be touched. She cannot cut them, change them, or prove their existence to those who can’t see them. They are like ghosts, ethereal and transparent. All Summer can do is observe them and listen.
The first string she remembers being enchanted by is her grandmother’s. Nanna Rose lived on a rocking chair in the highest room of the family’s seaside cottage, her window facing the endless blue waters and her walls adjourned with papers and trinkets. She had a fondness for embroidery, her wrinkled and frail old fingers working day after day on whatever new project tickled her fancy. Sometimes she’d stitch together a rose to give to her grandchild. Sometimes she would recreate a memory of hers in her art before they would fade from her mind. Sometimes—very rarely—she would knit a scarf for when her son and daughter-in-law returned from sea. Like she expected them to sail in from the horizon at any moment and laugh because they’d forgotten to take their own on their initial odyssey.
(Summer remembers thinking even then that it was just self-deception)
Nanna Rose had silver eyes. It took Summer a while to figure out, because there was a difference between silver and grey that didn't quite make sense to a toddler and Nanna Rose's eyes had dulled from age. The aunts and uncles who stayed in that cottage with them—all from her mother's side of the family, her father was an only child—did not share this trait. Summer did, though. And she loved it. She didn't know why; perhaps having something in common with her Nanna made her feel special, or the unusual colours were pretty.
prguitarman
theartofmadeline
dededos
annaxmalina
jacobvanloon
gummygunk
pixelskylines
kaledo-art
