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f1-birb · 4 months

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Simi and "Could I come into bed with you?"

okay so I've at least told you this Em 😅 but have a snippet posted (inspired by that line) because the full thing is running away from me surprise surprise

Seb smiles as he pulls the door to Lando's room to almost closed, just enough for the light to peek in and cast a golden strip across the room. He can still see where Lando is fully snuggled under his blankets, curls already a sleep ruffled mess and the long and ridiculously soft ear of his stuffed bunny tucked beneath his cheek. It's incredibly endearing.

He briefly pokes his head into Charles’ room, hides his grin at the boy’s nose being stuck into yet another new book. They'd taken a trip to the local bookstore on the edge of town only two days before, choosing a collection to fill up the reading nook tucked in between the dining room and the conservatory.

Charles had loved the trip, easily filling his little basket with books, though neither he nor Kimi had missed how his eyes kept straying towards the electric piano in the corner of the room. At least one of Charles' birthday presents for next month is sorted.

“You all settled Charlie?” Seb asks, laughs softly when Charles startles and smacks himself in the face with his book.

“Don't do that!” Charles whines but he can tell the boy isn't upset, maybe a little embarrassed but not truly annoyed with him.

“Sorry Charlie, I didn't mean to. Just checking you're winding down for bed okay.”

“Yeah, I'm fine. Did Lando go sleep okay?”

Seb’s chest floods with warmth. From the first day he met the boys, Charles had made it clear how seriously he takes his role as the eldest, so he's not surprised he's checking in on his youngest brother.

“He put up a little fuss, but as soon as your isä gave him a bottle with the meds in he was out like a light. I don't think he's moved since.”

Charles nods, mouth still a tight little line before it smooths out, clearly satisfied.

#send a ship and a sentence #estate agent seb au #simi #seb/kimi #another fic with a baby lando #hope you like it em!#wolfsbanesbite #birb writes

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moonstruckdraws · 2 months

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ah.. Ah.. AH- SNEEZE

sorry don't know what happened there, @hellishgayliath-

um- so- yeah I have no reason for this. I saw Clem's future design, my brain made this. so um.. if I have to envision it, so do y'all

I know you joked that Clem claimed Luci as her honorary sister, but they are also 'technically' cousins and would address her as such more than calling her a sister. If not for that reason, then because Luci wouldn't know how to deal with it (as her brain would trail to her then being Pico's sister & both of them would despise that lol) so it's probably done for Luci's sake (with exceptions ofc)

2nd thing; Sugar or Salt If this is an actually thing i don't know where its from because I made it up. But it's their version of saying 'good news or bad news'. I thought it was cute :] Sugar being to sugarcoat the situation & Salt being brutally honest/realistic. I think it'd be a thing Luci made up when Clem was really young & I think Clem would mainly ask for sugar instead of salt.

#clementine the opossom #luci the moth #rottmnt bad future timeline #i feel it's only right considering what YOU'RE plotting helli #this occurs right after Clem sends off her birbs :]#as you can see in the background #maybe they're searching for Pico #or just regular messaging birbs #I feel like that'd be something she'd do tho #sending off spare birbs in secret to look for her brother #maybe it's her birbs that spot him in the area and thats when the party goes off to find Krangg Pico #ofc that's all up to you Helli #i won't torture your mind any longer lol

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astray-anomaly · 6 months

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Drawing suggestion: a fluffy/fuzzy creature of your choosing

Birb

Art requests: 1/5

#sans au #utmv #art #sans au art #swapdream #swad #birb #art requests #send art requests

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f1-disaster-bi · 2 months

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I'm approaching maybe.....a third of the way through the plot for girl Lando au.....and the word count is currently at 15k

#send help #i need to be stopped #girl lando au #girl!lando au #norrussell #george/lando #lando/george #BIRB I CAN HEAR YOU CACKLING FROM HERE

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moonchild-in-blue · 4 months

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Green Tiger Moth - ref. post

The one on the left took me around an hour (an album length), as I wanted to just play around with all the pretty colours. The one on the right took me about 15 min, with only 3 colours. It turns out it's my favourite!

I tend to draw a lot of insects/birds/reptiles when I'm sad but need to get my hands moving. Anything with pretty colours and patterns. After a while I feel much better, and with an itch to draw more hehe.

I'll be doing a few of these today - if anyone wants a cute lil critter on their ask box, or just see it here let me know! I'll glady draw you some cute stuff hehe 💙

#I'm very serious - feel free to send me your fav birbs or insects or whatever and I'll do it #Feeling very ~creative and productive~ this Sunday #(was listening to Joji while doing this btw. if you even care)#darya does art #green tiger moth #moth #art #traditional art #coloured pencils

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aptericia · 10 days

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immediately thought "omg appie would love this"

AAAAAAAAA yes I love this thank you so much for sharing!!!!!!!!

I want to give a birb little birb scritchies….

#I love that my friends just send me birbs unprompted now #literally the best thing #thanks for the ask!#birb

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i-mybrunettelady · 1 year

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Ivre d'un rêve heroïque et brutal

Summary: Commander is trying to recover from her last fight with her latest enemy. Unfortunately, it’s not a smooth sailing. Content warnings: Mild blood and mentions of injury. Spoilers: Heavy spoilers for What Lies Beneath (LWS6) Title taken from José-Maria de Heredia’s sonnet, Les Conquérants.

It’s the first time she’s slept for the entirety of the night in days. Nyra’s well familiar with the blurred edges of working on interrupted, bad, or straight up absent sleep; this morning snapped into sharp focus that hasn’t left her since.

That’s all thanks to Trahearne, his calming presence and the spell he’d devised years ago to combat this very problem. With a frustrated sigh, she admits to herself she couldn’t have done it herself. Allies are a good thing after all, she jokes inwardly, though it fails to produce more than passing, brief amusement. These days, few things can.

It’s been seven days since their encounter with the demon in the mine. Not nearly enough time to recover from merciless claws digging into her regrets and barely healed wounds, not nearly enough time to stop the terrified shake of her hands in the morning. At first, she woke in cold sweat and with trembling shoulders, wiping away tears beading in her eyes still. She could feel Rama and Yao’s sympathetic grimaces and her first instinct was to throw them in their faces. Who the fuck are they to question her strength?

Thankfully, Nyra isn’t a slave to her instincts and she reminds herself that they both mean well and that they’re friends. Rama’s hand on her shoulder suddenly feels comforting, a far cry from the initial anger she felt bubbling inside her. Oftentimes, she leans into him, lets out a sad, exhausted groan and he wraps his hands around her. It only lasts for a minute or so, but she already feels steadier on her feet.

Then Trahearne comes, vivacious green in the sea of jade (too vivacious for a necromancer, she thinks; another one of those brief, passing jokes she keeps telling herself) and joins her on her bedroll. His lips are soft on her forehead, his fingers gentle when they rub up and down her arm. That steadies her too. Sharply, she thinks when will Oni decide to fuck with that regret as well.

It’s only a matter of time, really. And she has to be prepared.

“I’ll help heal injuries here,” she tells Trahearne one night, curled beside him on the bedroll. She looks at her hands. “If I think too hard about things, I’m almost half-sure the demon will have more ammo to use against me. I need something to keep myself occupied.”

His remaining eye squints slightly. “But you won’t overwork yourself, yes?”

“I can try,” Nyra replies quietly. Her breakdown in Eye of the North is still too fresh to forget. “I can’t promise I won’t slip into it by accident. My head feels so heavy I don’t trust myself not to do it.”

“I can watch you,” he proposes, reaching out to hold her hand. “Make sure you’re as good as you can reasonably be for Gorrik’s idea.” He considers. “I’m not sure I like it, Lyss. I know what it feels like and to see you go through it–”

She laughs bitterly. “What other option do we have? If I have to play a sacrificial lamb, I will. Gods know I’ve done so more than once. Gods also know it’s brutal every time but if there were any other alternative, we’d have pursued it already!” She closes her eyes and exhales. “I don’t like it any more than you do, Trahearne. It’s gonna suck so bad, but someone has to do it. When my torture draws the damn thing out, just hit it until it’s dead.”

“Lyss,” he repeats and pulls her close. “I just don’t want to see you in pain.”

“I didn’t sign up to be who I am now to live a comfortable life,” she says. “If I wanted that, I would’ve been just another noblewoman from Divinity’s Reach. Me, just another noblewoman? Gods forbid.”

Trahearne purses his lips. “Just take care of yourself, please.”

“I can try,” she repeats and means it. She can try. Has to, even.

So here she is, in the mining camp’s healing corner in Gyala Delve, spreading pale blue light on an open injury on a woman’s arm. It’s an ugly one, obviously painful, and Nyra’s not the best of the best at healing, not by a long shot, but she can make these people feel better. She knows her way around poultices, salves and stitches. She knows healing magic, Dwayna’s blessing. In a twisted way, the metallic tang of blood is comforting, familiar. It’s a residue of battle and she gets to wipe it off, but the scent remains.

Battle never leaves you, after all. She knows as much.

The injured woman groans when Nyra guides her magic to stitch the flesh shut. Guardian healing can, in truth, feel a little invasive. Despite the supposedly unsettling way her eyes look, Nyra never breaks eye contact when she guides her down and whispers in a soft tone, “Rest now. It’ll feel better in a bit. And do try to not strain that arm much for the next few days, yeah?”

“Yes, Commander,” the woman intones, exhausted but still horribly formal. Nyra pushes sweaty hair from her forehead and smiles slightly. She knows it doesn’t look very convincing - people think she’s angry half the time, for fuck’s sake - but she tries anyway.

Dying light of day reflects, rickety, in the reflection of the water bowl where she washes her hands. For a brief moment, Nyra observes the way blood sticks to the scars on her hands and knuckles, bright red against faintly scorched skin. Once, she would’ve shivered in discomfort over running her fingertips over it, but now it’s a part of her.

There’s so much blood on her hands. The thought comes uninvited, sneaky little shit. Nyra vividly remembers Apatia’s blood on her hands when she killed her ten years ago. Trahearne’s sap, when she ran through him with Caladbolg, seven years ago. What had Almorra said? That she hasn’t changed, that all she does is kill and corrupt? Nyra turns sharply to the injured woman. Her arm is still red, but mostly fine.

If she wasn’t careful, she could’ve killed her.

Nyra’s never washed her hands faster in her life. She leaves wet handprints on the wooden table as she leans over it, watching her own wide eyes in the bloodied surface of the water, trying to catch her breath. In and out. In and out.

Hands hover over her arms. She knows Trahearne’s presence like the palm of her hand, a heavy blanket against her shivering body. “Are you alright?” he asks, hushed. Nyra shakes her head and grips the table tightly.

“I think I need to take a break,” she says. Before, she would’ve pushed herself, powered through the panic; now she needs every bit of that strength she can muster. One battle, a failure at that, doesn’t mean the end of a war. She must strategise, try to outmaneuver that fucking creature.

She feels her breathing even out. Trahearne’s holding her arms in a comforting grip, but it’s the tactical approach that makes her think straight once more. She’s a soldier, after all; why not use what’s at her disposal as such? Still, her hands are shaking and she still feels like a giant, human-shaped, raw wound.

“Do you want to get something to eat?” Trahearne lets go of her arms to hold her hand. “Some tea?”

“Tea would be nice,” she replies, holding onto the way he rubs her fingers like a lifeline. “Very, very nice.”

He leans over to softly kiss her on the lips. “We’ll get one cup of tea for the lady, then,” he whispers.

She’ll outmaneuver the enemy however she must, one cup of tea at the time.

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lionydoorin · 2 years

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this but rockstar robin maybe ??

(say thank u to my sister for sending it to me and telling me to make it ronance)

OHH SO CUTE 😭😭 DEFINITELY

i got inspired and had to write a lil something so under the cut

i am so sorry

robin discovers nancy can sing after they get together; they're sitting together, sharing earpods in the tour bus and nancy is singing taylor swift's seven and robin can't stop staring at her, and her soft tone, and the way she bops her head and smiles as she finishes the song and starts the next one–

it ignites something, kinda.

music has always been everything to robin — her safe place, her heaven. nancy, now, is also music. more than the love songs robin sings to herself from time to time: she's the tune that adorns her mind, floating around the heaven and gracing her with the sweetest voice robin has ever heard.

they start making silly little duets here and there after that. of course, nancy always thinks it's super silly cause she thinks she's not that good of a singer, but robin is always starstruck. heart eyes, a dumbfounded smile, dancing along as nancy sings her verse. she can't stop listening to it. she can't stop listening to her.

and she knows she's not the only one that thinks that way – steve hears them, once, and comments how nancy has a lovely voice when they're alone later. chrissy sings along with them as she does robin's makeup, bopping her head and grinning whenever it's nancy's verse. eddie jokes about how he'd produce an EP with nancy if she ever desires.

"sing with me," robin says, once, as they sway together in the dressing room after one of her concerts. a soft love song is playing in the background, and their eyes are closed, whispering the lyrics to each other with their foreheads pressed.

she can see the way nancy frowns, "rob, we are singing."

"no, nance. i mean," she smiles oh so softly, her head leaning back to stare into nancy's eyes. "sing with me. on stage."

nancy's eyes grow twice in size, her mouth opening and closing multiple times as she tries to find the right answer. her mind wanders off to a crowd full of people, watching her, recording her, and her head sways side to side in denial.

robin doesn't press it – she knows how hard it is to overcome a stage fright. but the thought is always on the back of both of their minds; robin admires her quiet singing, imagining playing a guitar for her on stage, microphone separating them as they stare into each other's eyes. nancy imagines the distant possibility of doing things right, not making a fool of herself, and being face to face with robin in all her superstar glory.

nancy is the one to bring up the idea again after a few weeks.

when they do it, it's exactly how they've imagined: robin welcomes her beautiful girlfriend, reporter nancy wheeler, on stage for a special performance. the crowd cheers as she arrives, heart beating hard against her chest, a shy smile as she approaches robin and wraps an arm around hers. the production crew brings robin's guitar and she hangs it around her body. the microphone is positioned between them and robin adjusts it to her girlfriend's height.

she plays it gently, starts the song, the melody slipping effortlessly from her lips, nodding her head to the rhythm. fluttering eyes looking at nancy's, a lovesick gaze always fixated on hers. finishes her turn with a grin, winking, taking a step back to play the guitar.

"eyes on me, nancy. you'll be fine," robin whispers as she strokes the instrument, nodding reassuringly.

nancy sighs. licks her lips, taking a deep breath before her verse begins. the crowd's cheers fading away as she focuses on the girl in front of her, on the way she switches between guitar notes and taps her feet, on the way her eyes shine as nancy does as much as open her mouth.

and then, she sings. like the rest of the world isn't there. like it's just them, slow dancing in the dressing room as they sing love songs together. waltzing around each other, pacing back and forth between their verses and harmonizing so naturally.

when the music ends, and the sounds return, her fears seems insignificant compared to the happy tears filling robin's eyes.

#rj i know i already said this but every time u send something and gives me a space to ramble abt rockstar robin #i get so happy #i love them sm #thank u for your sister as well cause oh my god the video is so cute and yes let's make everything abt ronance #rockstar!robin au #ronance #ma ur writing #i think #ask #el fandom birb

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