autumnlikeabreeze

Latest Posts by autumnlikeabreeze

im so normal abt sibling relationships in media i swear

Read the full fic here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/65169295

“Sir Kaeya,” Diluc calls.

His brother doesn’t look up. If anything, he curls further in on himself, shoulders hunching as he sucks in a shuddering breath. Upon closer inspection, Diluc can see faint traces of frost dancing along his fingertips—a side-effect of his vision, no doubt.

“Kaeya,” Diluc tries again, gentler this time. He sets the glass of wine beside his brother with a gentle clink, debating with himself on whether or not he should take a seat. “What happened?”

“You’ve already heard.”

“I want to hear it from you.”

“What if I write it and it’s bad-”

WHAT IF YOU WRITE IT AND ITS GOOD? WHAT IF YOU WRITE IT AND ITS EXACTLY WHAT YOU WANTED? WHAT THEN????

“What did you do.”

Read the full fic here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/64409974

‘He’s just a kid, Bruce!’ His brother shouts, voice high and reedy with how unbelievably upset he is. Damian can hear their argument in perfect clarity despite the fact that they’re all the way downstairs, and it somehow leaves him feeling even more isolated than before—as if he were an animal confined to its cage.

‘He’s an assassin, Tim!’ Batman shouts back, and Damian knows deep in his soul that the words will haunt him for the rest of his life. If his own father doesn’t believe him capable of change, then what hope does he really have in being Gotham’s Robin?

Read the full fic here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/63734935



Tim’s mouth hangs open in shock, grip tightening on the steering wheel as Jason diverts his full attention toward the situation, phone long-forgotten. They share a brief look with each other—one full of confusion and anger and steadily mounting disbelief—before Tim is hastily unlocking his side of the car and stumbling outside.

“I can’t believe the little demon is being bullied,” Jason says, fists clenching as he joins Tim on the pavement.

“I can’t believe he didn’t tell anyone.”

doomed family

One thing I’ve learned as a writer who struggles to finish her projects is that it’s infinitely better to just write something than it is to not write anything at all. Every time I try to circle back to an old story and start worrying about the end result not being perfect, I remind myself that even finishing it poorly will always be better than leaving it uncompleted forever. Besides, I always end up surprising myself with what I create when I just put a little more faith into my abilities.

when i was a kid, a new family moved into our neighborhood. my parents wanted to welcome them, so my dad made a bowl of salsa and went over with my mom to introduce themselves. the husband of the new family was very excited when he got the salsa—he was a professional chef and as such no one ever made food for him because they always assumed he’d think is was bad, just because he was a good cook.

the moral of the story: give your artist friends art! give your writing friends writing! and give your chef friends food! even if they’re “better” at it than you. i can assure you that they’ll love it regardless because it came from you.

SAY NICE THINGS TO PPL

What it’s like when you and the gang are in different fandoms

we need to be weirder & so so earnest now more than ever

A comic I did for @kaeyazine on twitter! Musings about Kaeya's past, present, and future. (Fully platonic/no ship)

Yet now, I find I've grown into a tall child 🌼

Whats this? My once a month post??? Its a miracle

Also, I have learned chewing on the tip of your Apple Pencil makes the tip not work, which makes drawing very hard, do not recommend.

Read the full fic here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/60502756

Drake eyes him uneasily, hand drifting imperceptibly to the batarang perched on his nightstand. “You’re not here to kill me, are you?”

There’s no malice laid in the question, and Damian can’t decide if that makes the sentiment sting more or less. Logically, Drake has every right to be suspicious of his intentions—Damian has been nothing but hostile in the past, and they’ve only just recently begun to tread on civil ground—and yet the words still halt him in his tracks, breath catching in his throat as he imagines a jagged blade perched in the palm of his hand, shiny and slick with his brother’s blood.

“No,” Damian chokes, biting down on his bottom lip to stop the way it threatens to tremble. Drake’s eyes widen, icy-blue irises staring at Damian’s fearful expression where it lies bathed in the lamplight.

After my little trip into my unfinished file yesterday- I found this partially lined thing- so I finished it-

This had to have come out of one of my midnight drawing ventures- because I do not remember it or why I drew it, nor do I remember the story behind it. (It might have had to do with when Dick's not around but I really have no clue.)

when she says she doesn’t send nudes

Alfred: So you have twelve apples and your child asks for six. What do you have?

Bruce, tearing up: A child.

Dick Grayson they could never make me hate you <333

Im part of the batfandom ofcourse I know all their back stories by heart

Read the full fic here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/57571189

Tim lets out a harsh breath, fiddling with the cord of his earbuds as the announcer proclaims their flight delayed by another three hours.

Damian looks up from his sketchbook, eyebags carved into olive skin as he shares a long-suffering look with Tim.

“This is ridiculous,” he says, none of the usual haughtiness in his tone. The kid is clearly exhausted—three flights from New York to San Francisco wearing away at his patience and leaving the bare-bones of his pride in its wake. Tim would poke fun if he wasn’t so dead on his feet himself.

“We can go get fries at one of the food courts?” He offers, because in the last thirty-six hours they’ve been traveling he swears he hasn’t seen the brat eat a single thing.

Damian ducks his head, sleep tugging at the corner of his expression as he sets down the graphite pencil in his hands. He’s drawing a sketch of Dick, smile lines and all. “I’m not hungry.”

:D THE BOY!🗣️🗣️🗣️

I love him a healthy amount I swear.

Read the full fic here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/58143571

Damian’s feet move forward without much thought. He internally curses his child-like legs for moving so slow in such a dire moment, but despite the urge to slot himself in front of his brother and demand the wretch retract her touch, he cannot risk sprinting into action and making a scene.

He gets there in due time, stepping between the two just before the woman can lean in to ghost her cherry lipstick against Drake’s ear. His brother is entirely frozen, no trace of the sharp, well-spoken gentlemen that defends Damian from crude remarks anywhere in sight.

“Mrs. Barlowe,” Daman says pointedly, causing the woman to flinch. Good. She should be afraid. “My brother is not an object of pleasure for you to satisfy yourself with.”

EYES. I was working on how I wanted to make all their character designs unique to me lately, and decided to start with their eyes cause it’s a big part of their designs, but also one of the simpler ones. I’m planning on doing everyone else as well at some point in the future.

EYES. I was working on how I wanted to make all their character designs unique to me lately, and decided to start with their eyes cause it’s a big part of their designs, but also one of the simpler ones. I’m planning on doing everyone else as well at some point in the future.

Read the full fic here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/57571189

Tim lets out a harsh breath, fiddling with the cord of his earbuds as the announcer proclaims their flight delayed by another three hours.

Damian looks up from his sketchbook, eyebags carved into olive skin as he shares a long-suffering look with Tim.

“This is ridiculous,” he says, none of the usual haughtiness in his tone. The kid is clearly exhausted—three flights from New York to San Francisco wearing away at his patience and leaving the bare-bones of his pride in its wake. Tim would poke fun if he wasn’t so dead on his feet himself.

“We can go get fries at one of the food courts?” He offers, because in the last thirty-six hours they’ve been traveling he swears he hasn’t seen the brat eat a single thing.

Damian ducks his head, sleep tugging at the corner of his expression as he sets down the graphite pencil in his hands. He’s drawing a sketch of Dick, smile lines and all. “I’m not hungry.”

this trend but with them

I got promposed to today so heres how I think the Batfam would prompose/react to being promposed to

Dick: goes all out. It's super cheesy but super sweet, probably has a big sign and music playing and it's super personalized to whoever he's asking. He gets a bunch of people to help set it up and has a flower bouquet

Jason: Is really stressed about it. He wants it to be nice but doesn't want to go overboard. Probably just makes a sign and awkwardly surprises them with it, acts like he doesn't really care about it that much but is lying

Tim: he gets promposed to. He's very overwhelmed, can't stop laughing and has his face covered most of the time because he's bright red. He had no idea what was going on and is genuinely surprised and slightly panicked

Bernard: set up a whole personalized thing for Tim. Got his friends to help him set up an aisle of fairy lights and made a huge sign for it. Balloons, streamers, the whole shabang.

Damian: throws confetti angrily for Dick's promposal. He is very over it

Reposting this cause I wanted to fix Jason’s head (it still looks wrong but whatever) and ended up drawing dick and Damian