Kaz doesn’t move from his chair, but his mind travels miles. To the icy waters of Fjerda. To the Menagerie, when he first saw her, to the Geldrenner Hotel and all her brown skin just a hairsbreadth away. If she lived still, he would shed his armor. He would say everything he was too afraid to before, all the saccharine endearments and lovesick pleas to keep her in place. He would touch and take what she gives, all of it, even if it makes him choke on sea water and fight to remain conscious. She could have all of him, every broken and rotted part.

OR

A knock at the door in the dead of night. Word of a plundering off the coast of Fjerda—a Kerch ship against a Ravkan one—with only one sailing away. No survivors. Kaz seeks revenge. Revenge finds him first.

Happy Obi-Wan day, everyone! If anyone likes angst and sad Obi-Wan check out the fic I just posted on ao3

I know this app is kinda dead, but for all you Caryl fans out there, I wrote a fic! It’s got angst and h/c and so. much. introspection. Here’s the summary: There wasn’t any light pollution anymore, not since the world ended. It made the night sky look different; wider, almost. As Daryl laid there, his eyes found Sagittarius, blinking at him from just above the trees. The bowman. The survivor. The archer. How often had he stared at the sky as a kid, as a young adult, and not noticed that constellation? He didn’t need its points to navigate, so his gaze had passed over it, cast it as insignificant. Now, it was like those stars were engraved in his soul, chiseled into his bones, branded into his skin. When Carol pointed it out, when she grinned up at him like he’d hung that damn constellation himself, it became him. He was Sagittarius.

Lowkey working on a new chapter of I Will Carry You (Always)... god, what year is it?

Oh my god, there is so much Irondad and Spiderson art now 😲 damn, when I was first in the fandom there was like nothing. Look how far we’ve come 🥺

I just updated my Irondad fanfic! Go check it out if you want some cute family feels <3 Here’s a snippet:

Hugging Tony differed from hugging Pepper. When Tony hugged, he put his whole being into it. He covered you as if to protect you, to shield you with his body. Peter sank into it, let his head lull against the man’s chest, his eyes to flutter closed. Blue light danced across his eyelids, and he cracked them open to find the arc reactor centimeters from his face.

Keep him alive, Peter begged it, eyes burning. You hear me? Keep him alive.

Tony’s hug tightened, as if he heard the silent plea.

OOPS i forgot to post this here. I updated my Irondad fic!! Go check it out. Here’s a snippet:

Why was he so nervous? Was it because he was worried about how Tony would react to seeing his face all rough and ruined? Was he worried about Morgan screaming at the sight, unable to recognize her father with a marred face?

Or was it because he had an image of Tony in his brain—an image of him with sharp eyes and brown hair and Nirvana t-shirts stained with WD-40—and now that image would be replaced with this Tony, all gray and soft with closed mouth smiles and scars? Maybe he was hanging on too hard to the idea that things would go back to how they were, when in reality nothing would ever be the same.

New chapter! This one is long and very cute, I hope you enjoy. Here’s a snippet:

It was like a sedative. Within seconds, Peter felt the first tendrils of sleep reach out and threaten to pull him under. He fought against it, cracking open his eyes and watching the IV drip, the sound hidden beneath Tony’s heartbeat.

Eventually, he couldn’t fight sleep any longer. He drifted and dreamed, images of cold space and desolation taking the forefront, before shifting to dreams of Earth, of New York. He was in the kitchen of their apartment and May was at the stove, her back turned. Peter called out her name, but she didn’t respond. She didn’t even move.

Something warm tapped on his face. He glanced up, expecting to see rain, but an orange sky stared back at him. Shrapnel pelted his cheeks, sliced his skin. He wrinkled his nose. The dream bled away.

When he awoke, his cheek was mashed up against something scratchy, his neck craned at an unnatural angle. He blew out a breath, uncomfortable but too tired to open his eyes.

“Peter? Are you awake now?”

Oh fuck. Peter’s breath caught. He swallowed. “Nope. I’m asleep.”

New chapter! I hope you enjoy :D Here’s a snippet: Tony’s eyes rolled over to where Peter stood, half-drenched in the night. His eyes closed for a long moment, before they opened again, gaze finally finding Peter’s. Brown met brown, like a tree catapulting toward the forest floor. Tony just looked at him for a moment, blinking slow and languid, before the corner of his mouth lifted into the slightest grin, crinkles appearing next to his eyes.“Peter,” Tony said, the syllables of the word slurring together. His lips quivered. “Kid. My kid.” Peter didn’t know he was crying until he tasted salt on his lips. He tried to focus on Tony, on him alive, but all he could see was a broken Iron-Man suit, singed skin and unfocused eyes, eyes that wouldn’t look at him even as he begged and pleaded. He was shaking, he realized. He was trembling like he was out in the cold.

Gotta say, it’s so nice to be writing Irondad again. I missed it so much 😭

If any of you are interested, go check out my new fic Leaving the Blue World on ao3! It’s about Peter dealing with derealization after the Blip.

To all of my followers that I gained from my Irondad phase, I’m back with a new fic! Same sort of vibes as I Will Carry You (Always) but a completely different plot and circumstances. I hope you all check it out! Here’s the summary:

“Sometimes, when Peter Parker closes his eyes, he sees a burnt orange sky and a planet buried beneath mounds of debris. When he opens them, it's to a world he doesn't recognize. The screens on Time Square advertise sequels to movies he'd missed. Strangers live in his apartment. There are all new teachers at his school. Even Tony is different; the wrinkles around his eyes are deeper, the shadows behind them darker.

Time moved, and Peter stood still.”