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#should i tag the ship. k i will
access-point · 1 month
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Salem and Cinder let Mercury believe that Emerald didn't survive the fall of Atlas thinking that it will make him obey orders better but all it does is make the decision to jump ship that much easier the second he reunites with Em in Vacuo
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oceanwithouthermoon · 7 months
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remember how when saiki was crushing on satou and wanted to talk to him, instead of yk.. actually talking to him, he found out all of his interests and displayed his own interest in those things in front of him to try to get him to notice him??
yeah, now imagine him doing that when he has a crush on anyone else..
hes such a silly and awkward teenage boy i love it, like buddy you CAN just talk to your crush, you dont have to try to get him to "notice you.." but hes too silly and awkward so thats like the most he would ever do and would still probably think that that counts as flirting
im just... wondering about how saikis terrible silly flirting tactics would translate if his crush was on one of his FRIENDS.. like someone he could actually be around and would see and talk to him.. would he just like be trying to impress them ?? moving toward them more ?? adopting more of their mannerisms and interests maybe ??
imagine that like EVERYONE in the group would notice it, but it wouldn't be like "omg saiki is flirting" it would be more like "omg why is saiki being extra awkward and talking more" because hes so painfully unclear about his intentions but hes usually so quiet and unassuming that this would be such a stark contrast to his usual behavior...
#hey buddy maybe you should just idk maybe TALK TO UR CRUSH#saiki k#the disastrous life of saiki k.#saiki kusuo#tagging ships this would work with#kubosai#<-obviously my favorite so this is what i was thinking the whole time#that would be so cute everyone shut up#but he would prob accidentally end up for real flirting with kubo since hes trying to pertain to what he likes and he loves romance#saisai#<-i actually also like thid one a LOT for this scenario it would be so silly#saikis god complex accidentally starts manifesting visibly a little more since he's imitating pretentious rich boy#saikai#saikaido#saidou#<-saikis dark reunion jokes accidentally become so frequent he starts saying them out loud by mistake and it's embarrassing as hell#nensai#<-not actually totally sure how this would work in this situation but idk maybe hes more open to having ramen every day#and trying to get over his bug fear omg that would be so funny#imagine him starting with like one bug at a time so he starts with the least scary ones like butterflies and ladybugs#but by the end of it hes prob only a little more okay with things like butterflies+stick bugs+caterpillars cuz they move slow+are easy 2 see#haisai#<-ohohoh haisai he would prob join a club+always be trying to prove to him he takes things seriously#mostly schoolwork but in gym/sports he would always be pretending to enthusiastically participate and break a sweat lol#merasai#<-he takes up baking/cooking as a hobby and is always bringing extra food to school and acting like it was an accident and giving it to her#going to her workplaces and pretending he didnt know/forgot she works there and 'accidentally' ordering an extra portion for her every time#saikechi#<-he already knows a lot about random stuff but he takes an interest in saying his silly facts out loud and sounding like a nerd#meows post
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fagitsukareita · 2 months
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NOW HEAR ME OUT i just think that WHILE kusuke was digging around in toritsuka's head, looking at all that impulsiveness and the honesty that only his little brother manages to force out of this piece of shit, wouldn't it just be SO kusuke to try to turn all those feelings tori has for kusuo back onto him... a little puppy crush, nothing kusuke would ever act on (obviously. he's better than that.). just something to leave tori itchy, to make him stare at kusuo and wonder why those feelings have started to ring unfamiliar, a little deja vu, because i think kusuke does, fundamentally, view tori as just another one of kusuo's toys. and if kusuke can't have what kusuo does, then he has to break it.
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vvitchering · 11 months
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Some droidcaptain words for the hopefully still here and just really quiet fandom ✨ my prompt was “first hug”
Captain Andor, like most organics, is inherently difficult to predict.
Every day brings new experiences and data to collect and yet he never feels as though he’s made progress. He’s cataloged everything from the dark circles indicating poor sleep to the sound of his pleased sigh after his first sip of morning caf (brewed as dark as possible). K-2SO’s data is limited in the area of physicality, however.
“It’s a hug, Kay. Stop analyzing it.”
The Captain’s arm is slung around K-2SO’s hips, his side a wall of warmth against the droid’s chassis. No one touches security droids. He has no data on this behavior. He tells Andor this and receives an exhausted laugh for his trouble, but no further explanation. He does not pull away.
Hesitantly, acutely aware of the unknown territory he’s entering, K-2SO reciprocates. Their height difference means his arm wraps around Andor’s shoulders. He feels the human relax into the contact, which cannot be comfortable. The data rolls in. He finds it pleasing.
“You continue to be full of surprises, Captain Andor.” K-2SO remarks, and he dutifully files away the images of the lazy smile he gets in return.
“We’re partners now, Kay. Call me Cassian.”
“...Cassian, then.”
This too he finds pleasing.
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theorderofthetriad · 3 months
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i still can't wrap my head around kabru/laios as a pairing, much less as the second most popular pairing in the DM ao3 tag. I saw it was popular while i was only watching the anime and thought "oh well it must make sense for people who have read the manga" and then i finished the manga and it, frankly, made way less sense than when they were just two hot guys who hadn't interacted with each other.
like, maybe on Karbu's end he could end up obsessing over Laios, but that's as far as it could ever go because Laios? isn't attracted to humans????? He's a monster fucker* through and through, closest he'll get to attraction to a human is demi-humans or beastkin. And he doesn't care about Kabru period. Like Kabru's thinking about Laios all the time but once Kabru is out of Laios's line of sight does he still even exist to Laios? I don't get it.
*who does not get to fuck any monsters 😔
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thatoneluckybee · 3 months
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when you finally find a character that shares your name but all she does is experience the Horrors
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scramble-crossing · 1 year
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ok ships for the ship bingo. you don't have to do all of these. sho x hanekoma, sho x coco, sho x beat (in neo obvs), sho x joshua (spicy), sho x nagi, sho x neku (also in neo obvs), sho x konishi, sho x megumi. + whichever other sho ships exist idfk. all characters 18+ in this question
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Anon. I am so sorry to tell you that I am physically incapable of shipping Sho with anybody. Ever.
It's just a personal thing! Sho's one of my favourite characters ever and I project my aroaceness onto him HARD so shippy stuff with him is kind of a squick for me. This isn't to say that I think ships with him are BAD or anything they're just not my cup of tea!
That said! Sho and Neku are actually one of my absolute favourite dynamics in the series so I'm gonna do a platonic version of the bingo for them!
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The fact that Neku's willing to give Sho a chance after everything he's done, choosing to believe that for all of his failures he is genuinely trying to be better is just so *chefs kiss* It shows how much both of them have grown since the first game. Not only has Neku become someone who can forgive Sho, but Sho's become someone who is worthy of forgiveness. I know neo gave up on the concept of them becoming partners in a new game, but I still love the idea of them being forced into Shinjuku and having to learn to work with and rely on each other as the city comes crashing down around them. I think them having some shared history where Neku actually saw Sho make a decision to change would be way more interesting than what we get in neo, which seems to be that Neku can just. Scan souls? Or something? Boring! Give me Neku and Sho enemies to friends arc or give me death
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tora-the-cat · 2 years
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May I propose Kusuo/Saiko.....Obviously Kusuo is extremely explicitly aroace and such, but the comedic potential of him marrying Kusuke's future boss (or at least, means of absurd income with minimal oversight) is enough to give it a pass. Just one. Like you don't understand how funny it would be. 
(even funnier with Kusuke/Makoto in mind. I'm not sure exactly WHY but it enhances the comedy I assure you)
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alligaytorswamp · 1 year
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(same anon from before) tighnari & kaveh (friend?)ship dynamics!
hmmm i definitely don't hate it (wow, i know, unbelievable) but i think partially that's because i have never seen it? 👁👁
i simply can't imagine it at all rn, gotta see some sort of content to even figure out how their dynamic would work
but again ... out of all potential evils of this world (insert every ship i hate)? this ??? is completely fine.
and i am def very into the idea of them being friends because that sparks joy in my soul heh
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tranny-man · 4 months
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When I was younger I always shipped unpopular ships, idk why I think it was because I always loved unpopular characters. I don't really do that anymore but unfortunately it's been too long and I can't get rid of those old ships I liked so I'm stuck with having a negative response to some really.long lived and extremely popular main stream ships
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theymightbegeorge · 1 year
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.
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vulturvolanss · 1 year
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you pour so much richness into a character’s writing and lore and then dedicate an entire idle to ship bait
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ireadwithmyears · 6 months
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address the letters: “to the holes in my butterfly wings”
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pairing: Kix and GN padawan reader (platonic)
Word count, guys it’s basically 10 K 💀bc apparently I am in capable of writing anything short.
tags/warnings: angst, hurt/comfort, fluff, mentions of blood and injury, medical procedures
summary:
In which, the CMO of Torrent Company discovers that you, a Padawan under his care have been hiding injuries and skipping medical checks, and now must take care of you as you suffer the consequences of your actions.
Also known as
Why you should never hide an injury from Kix. he will find out, and he will drag you off to the medbay so that he can take care of whatever mess you’ve made of yourself, scolding you all the wile.
“Look what I found on my bunk.”
You’re interrupted from eating your sandwich in the Cantina when Fives plops down beside you at the table, setting down a tray of food and waving a pink slip of paper in your face.
You’re about to tell him that “Can’t you see that you’re eating and get this paper out of my face,” when your eyes catch on three words written in bold text across the top of the page.
Mandatory vaccination updates. 
The sandwich, that up until this point has been the absolute centre of your attention, listen, you’re fighting a war and you have to appreciate any opportunity that you get to eat food that isn’t bland ration bars, drops out of your suddenly limp hand as you snatch up the paper, now very interested in the contents.
“When did you get this?” you ask slowly, you’re voice distracted, beginning to chew on your lower lip, already feeling the nervous coil in your stomach.
“When I came back to my bunk after the debriefing we had this afternoon. Apparently everyone got one. I bet you 10 credits that your master is going to pretend that he didn’t see it, and try and avoid it until Kix has to tear apart the ship looking for him and drag him to the medbay.” Fives chuckles.
Master Skywalker’s reputation for trying to avoid the medbay at all costs is widely known throughout Torrent Company..
“Kix is going to have a field day. I’ll give it to general Skywalker, he has some creative hiding places,” he continues, eyes lighting up at the memory of Anakin, half hazardously crammed into a supply closet, folded in an impressive, yet uncomfortable looking position as he forced his unwitting tall limbs to fit in the cramped space.
Unfortunately for Kix, your masters habit of avoiding the medbay whenever possible has rubbed off on you, though, you don’t think it’s for the same reason. Your avoidance stems from a place of fear, and, okay, a stubborn insistence that you can take care of yourself, which yes, definitely like master, like apprentice.
But that also stems from a fear. You’re determined to prove yourself, especially being a young Padawan working with those who are much more experienced than you. You don’t want to risk being taken off the field because of some stupid injury, and letting those who rely on you down, especially your master, who’s always bouncing back and getting up and ready to take on whatever is next regardless of what kind of peril he’s just come out of. You want, you need, to prove that just because you’re a Padawan, you’re not a liability, but an asset. You can be strong and resilient like master Skywalker.
So, you avoid. You dodge and you ignore and you pretend not to notice when the routine medical check dates come and go without your attendance. You know it’s only a matter of time before Kix gets on your ass about it. You’re surprised that you’ve kept it up this long. But, this only bolsters your confidence in being able to avoid another successfully.
“I’ll be right back,” you say, trying to sound nonchalant, setting the paper back down on the table before you run off into the crowd.
*
Sure enough, there is an identical slip of paper that’s been placed on your bunk. But conveniently, Jedi master Aayla Secura is going on a diplomatic mission to amid rim planet in a last ditch effort to try and convince them not to secede from the republic during the date that’s listed on the page when you’re scheduled for your vaccinations.
Earlier this morning, master Skywalker had asked if you had wanted to join this mission, saying that it would give you a break from being on the frontlines, and it would be easy enough to arrange, as master Secura would rendezvous with the 501st before she departed.
This morning, you had turned him down, listing several reasons as to why you needed to stay with the 501st. Your troops needed you, diplomatic missions were boring anyways, and you didn’t think that you would be of much help to the experienced and capable master Secura, who was a formidable diplomat in her own right. You didn’t think you would be able to add anything of particular value to the conversation, at least nothing that master Secura wouldn’t be able to say much more eloquently and better.
Now though, the only thing that’s running through your mind is the fear of needles and the dread of going into the medbay and that’s enough to make you reconsider everything you had said.
When you tell master Skywalker that you’ve changed your mind, and would actually like to accompany Aayla on her mission, he’s slightly confused considering you had been so adamant that you were needed here only just a few hours ago. 
But, he knows that as a Jedi, you need diplomatic experience. Experience that, before the war, would be very easy for Padawan’s to come by. He knows that you don’t have nearly as much as you should.
These are unprecedented times, though, and Padawan’s being trained during an active war is not ideal. He wants for you to be well-rounded. He has hope that your future won’t always involve war at the centre of it, and any opportunity that you get to learn how to be a keeper of peace should always be encouraged, especially during these times.
 So he gives in pretty easily, and when master Secura arrives, you happily join her. When the ramp of the ship seals behind you and you’re sitting with her in the cockpit, the warm relief that flows through your bones is palpable. 
“Success,” you think to yourself triumphantly.
*
Your triumph, however glorious it might have felt in the moment, is short-lived.
In spite of the fact that some old injuries, that you honestly thought you had done a pretty good job at taking care of yourself, were starting to aggravate you again, the unexpected joy and relief that weaved itself through the force, openly shared between you and master Secura, surrounded you like a warm blanket, protecting you from feeling the things that hurt you.
The planet you had just visited had agreed to stay with the republic, after a tense three days of debate between its political factions. The victory Was a surprise, considering how vehemently the opposition pushed to secede, but it was not unwelcome.
Aayla’s T-6 shuttle docks in the hanger bay of the much larger 501st transport. As you wait for the doors to open and the ramp to fold down before you, you’re still riding on that high, feeling, for the first time in a long time, the thrill of a success. One that you are unable to feel on the frontlines, because even when your battles result in a victory, you are surrounded by so much death and violence that in the end, you don’t really feel like celebrating. 
You’ll never admit it to your master, but privately, you think to yourself that maybe diplomatic missions aren’t as boring as you thought they were. You were able to help resolve a conflict, peacefully, without even having to brush your fingers against the hilt of your lightsaber, which, nowadays, is becoming more and more of a rare occurrence. But it’s what Jedi do, or at least, what they’re supposed to do, so you have to embrace the gratitude of the experience you just had, and try and take it with you going forward.
Your thoughts are preoccupied with these ideas swirling around your head, so you don’t see him until you’re stepping out onto the ramp of the T-6, descending into the hectic and busy as usual crowds of the hanger bay.
When you do, though, you stop dead, and your heart begins to race. 
Shit.
Directly in front of you, at the bottom of the ramp, stands Kix.
One look at his expression, and your stomach flips.
His lips are set in a thin, unreadable line, his brow creased as he observes you with pinpoint focus. Stern, brown eyes observe your every movement. There’s no question that the second you step off the ramp, he’s going to pounce on you like a cat seizing a mouse. 
He stands at attention, body forced into an unbending straight line, such positions you mostly see on the shiny’s, new troopers who are freshly trained during their first days out on the field. His hands are placed on his hips, the position that he assumes before he’s about to give someone, it’s usually your master who you’ve seen it directed at, the lecture of their life.
“Keep moving,” your brain supplies. “Act nonchalant, and maybe, just maybe, you’ll be fine.”
You feel your feet hit solid ground, and your speed picks up, all along, your brain is screaming at you to move. It’s weird how now that he’s standing in front of you, every injury you’ve accumulated over the past weeks is beginning to hit you, all comfort and protection that the force has been giving you to keep you going rapidly vanishing with each step you take.
The uncomfortable angle that your shoulder is sitting at, the pulling of stitches in your leg as you increase your speed. It throbs and aches with sudden abandon. But your fists clench, and you do your best not to falter under Kix’s unwavering scrutiny, just knowing that he’s looking for any flicker of weakness, any sign of pain that registers on your face.
“Just keep going, and maybe, you’ll be able to slip past...”
He steps in front of you, reaching an arm out to easily intercept your path. He says your name, in a tone that breaches absolutely no room for trying to ignore it.
You jump, startled in spite of yourself. He’s effectively got you cornered, and seeing that there’s no way out of this, Your nerves begin to skyrocket, raising like the sound of alarm bells in your head. You look up, eyes meeting his unwaveringly stern expression, And suddenly, you wish that the floor would open up and swallow you whole.
He looks down at you, and he must see something in your disposition that belies your true feelings, because though his face remains set, his eyes somewhat soften, and when he next speaks, his voice is quiet but firm.
“Come with me, please. I need to see you in the medbay.” Though he’s phrased it as a request, you know that it is an order, and one that you must follow.
As a medic for the GAR, and this is something that you’ve heard him say to many a complaining troopers being escorted to the medbay when they don’t want to go, it is well within his rights to exercise such authority and make these orders. Because when it comes to the health and safety of every 501st personnel, whether you’re a Jedi general, commander, or Padawan, Kix immediately outranks you.
You look down at the floor, suddenly finding the marks that are speckled across it very interesting, and mumble a defeated and quiet “Yes sir.” 
When he turns, and you hesitate to follow, he lets out a gentle sigh, moving to place a hand on the small of your back. His voice is low, but reassuring as he ushers you forward.
“Come on, kid, you’re okay,” he breathes, and in spite of the fact that you’re still thinking that jumping out of an airlock would be better than this, your feet, still unwilling, but the slightest bit reassured, begin to move.
*
Coric giving you a subtle pitying glance as he’s reading over a patient’s chart when Kix escorts you into the medbay makes you want to vomit.
Between the two medics,  Kix has the reputation of being a hardass because he’s the CMO. Make no mistake, you do not want to get on either of their bad sides. But, given the choice between the two right now, you think you’re more equipped to handle Coric, who can usually be counted on to soften the blow a bit, with enough pleading glances and apologies.
Your eyes flit to the door that you’ve just passed through, because stupidly, your brain is still trying to make the calculations that if you can just duck out of Kix’s grasp for two seconds, you’d be able to make a run for it.
Unbeknownst to you, however, both medics have been carefully observing your every movement since you’ve entered. Coric, remaining completely calm and at ease, rises to his feet, moving swiftly to stand in the doorway in several long strides. He casually leans against the frame, arms folded.
“Don’t even think about it, baby Jedi. Your master has attempted the same thing you are considering, and he has always failed,” he says, keeping his voice light and non-threatening, making it clear that you need to give up on your fantasy of bolting out of here, but also not trying to scare you off..
You’re just beginning to wonder how the kriff they were able to read you so easily, with one covert glance determining that you were about to bolt when Kix removes his hand from the small of your back, instead, fingers coming to gently grip your shoulder.
The change in his hold is obvious. He is fully prepared for if you try to run. He gives your shoulder a squeeze, in what you interpret as a warning not to. 
Unfortunately, he’s just touched on an injury, you’re not entirely sure what you did, but you messed up your shoulder the last time you were on the field, and even the slight pressure elicits a sharp intake of breath that you’re unable to stop from escaping your lips, and that immediately has the attention of both medics laser focussed on you.
Kix’s anticipation evaporates and quickly melts into concern. Carefully, so carefully, he turns you to face him, keen eyes sharp as they analyze your face.
“Hey,” he calls softly, waiting for you to look at him. “Tell me where it hurts,” he says, so gently that it makes your eyes burn with shame. You look down at your feet.
“That’s uh... that’s, a loaded question,” you admit sheepishly, trying to keep your tone light and joking, in spite of the fact that now that you’re thinking about it, the list of injuries you’ve sustained without reporting to the medbay is a lengthy one, and might make Kix have a stroke.
Kix lets out a controlled, slow breath, eyes momentarily finding the ceiling as he silently begs the stars to give him strength. 
“Kaysh Mirsh solus,” he mutters to himself.
You’ve heard Kix toss that phrase around the medbay on multiple occasions, and though you’re uncertain of what it actually means, he usually brings it out when one of his brothers has done something that he would consider incredibly stupid, which is often.
Coric makes a noise of agreement. “It appears that our stupidly self-sacrificing general has passed on his stupid self sacrificing behaviour onto his apprentice,” he groans. “Will we ever know a day of peace?” 
Kix looks back down at you, his expression calm and restrained. “Come on, then, let’s see what we’re dealing with here,” moving his hand to your uninjured shoulder, he steers you both further into the medbay.
*
Your eyes don’t leave the ground, but you can hear the sound of a privacy curtain being pulled shut around the cubicle that Kix has brought you to. 
When an eerily familiar pink slip of paper is being held up in front of your downcast eyes, you cringe, Arms wrapping around yourself in defence
You can’t even pretend that you haven’t seen it before, because the words mandatory vaccination updates have been circling around your brain the whole time you were out on your last mission.
“Do you know why the GAR enforces these?” Kix begins, and his voice is too measured and calm. 
You lift a brow, questioning. Does he seriously expect you to answer this? Isn’t the answer obvious? 
“Uh... so that we don’t get sick?” You answer, uncertain as to what he’s getting at.
He nods, his face displaying a slight flicker of approval. “Yes, that is one reason as to why, and it’s an acceptable one,” he acknowledges. His frown deepens as he continues. “However, one must look at the much larger picture, at every personnel aboard this ship. The most important reason why mandatory vaccinations are enforced is so that we can avoid many people getting sick and spreading illness to the rest of the crew, so that we may remain fully functional and operational, continuing to serve and protect the people of the republic.”
You squirm beneath the scrutiny of his gaze. You’re starting to see where he’s going with this, and it’s incredibly discomforting.
“I would’ve thought, that as a Jedi, you would be able to more easily see this bigger picture than most others,” he observes mildly. “After all, I know, and I’m sure everyone who spends a considerable amount of time with you can see that there is so much compassion and care for others within your very nature.”
His voice is so genuine, laced with such real kindness in his tone that it makes your eyes sting. Your heart constricts, because he’s just pointed out something that you hadn’t even considered in your selfish haste to avoid this.
By avoiding your vaccinations, you have put every member of the 501st who works with you in danger.
Your arms wrap  tighter around yourself, and you can’t bring yourself to look anywhere but at the pristine white floor beneath your feet.
Kix senses that he’s hit a mark, and his voice gentles considerably. “I also understand that you are young, and still learning to see the bigger picture and how your actions can affect those around you.”
“I, I didn’t, I was scared and I just I didn’t think about...” your voice trembles as you try to answer, tumbling out in a rush of words that race as quickly as your heart. 
“I understand, and it is perfectly reasonable for you to feel that way,” he keeps his voice level and measured. “However,” he continues, and you know what he’s about to say even before he says it. “We still have to face the things that scare us. If you had simply told me how you were feeling, we would have figured out a way to navigate it.” His face is reassuring when you dare to glance up from the floor that you’ve been resolutely staring at for this whole conversation.
“We still will figure out the best way to proceed. However, these vaccination updates are very low on my priority list of concerns when it comes to you, compared to this,” and he holds up a datapad, displaying medical records with your name typed neatly across the top.
The last several appointment entries are highlighted in red, indicating that you did not attend any of them. 
“Do I need to remind you that these appointments are not optional. Any member of Torrent Company who goes out on the field must report to the medbay upon return for examination, as well as attend our regular medical checks to ensure that you are fit for active duty.” It’s clear from the tone of his voice that this is a lecture that he is very practised in delivering.
You lift your head, finally looking directly at him. He’s already made you admit a fear that you desperately wanted to keep to yourself. You try and summon what remains of your dignity. 
“What do you want me to say, Kix?” There’s a hint of defiance in your voice. 
“Do you want me to admit that I avoided these because I had injuries that I didn’t want you to know about? Because yes, the truth is that I did.” Your eyes level with his as you try to make him understand. 
“I was scared of the medical procedures, okay? Is that what you wanted to hear?” You snap, not particularly annoyed with him, but more annoyed at the fact that your answers sound so stupid out loud. 
“But I was more scared of the fact that you were probably going to take me off the field, and I couldn’t, I couldn’t let that happen. My master was relying on me. Everyone was relying on me, and I couldn’t let them down.” You try to shrug off his concern with a dismissive wave of your hand. “Besides, I’ve been doing fine,” you say evasively.
Kix does not rise to the bate of your seeming anger. He’s much too practised and controlled to let it affect him. He also has the uncanny ability to look at someone, and see everything, read through their feelings, whether they’ve been acknowledged or not, and understand them. So, even though you’re trying to push him away, with what at first glance appears to be frustration, underneath it all, he can tell that it’s just as plainly  fear.
He meets your storm filled eyes unflinchingly, levelling you with a look that is equal parts stern and unwavering, and equal parts concerned and filled with compassion. It makes your insides twist with guilt, and you want to look away, but you can’t bring yourself to as he speaks, his voice calm but steely.
“Are you fine?” he asks, an eyebrow raising as he tilts his head to look at you, his gaze clinical, assessing, even as you just stand there in front of him.
. “I already know that there’s something wrong with your shoulder. But aside from that, I’ve been observing you since you got off your transport. The way you move is slow and careful, not at all like the usual way you dash around the ship. Even now, you’re hesitating to put much weight on your right leg.” He ticks off the things he’s noticed on his fingers like a list.
“Apart from the fact that skipping these mandatory appointments have consequences. If you had kept this up, I would’ve had to bring this to our superiors, that includes the Jedi council,” he gives you a pointed look, even the mention of the high Council makes you shiver. in your experience, whenever you and your master have been summoned to speak with the council, it’s always to be reprimanded, and never good.
. “You could have been Court-martialed,” he says, knowing that his words will hit the severity of the situation home.  
You falter, stepping back as you feel your eyes go wide. “Court-martialed?” you breathe, feeling the blood draining from your face. 
He gently takes your arm, guiding you to sit on a bed as he continues, voice softening. “It is very clear that you are hiding injuries, and though I can understand why, in premise, You did this, the reality is that this will begin to affect your performance in battle. It will not just affect you. You will put yourself, as well as the entirety of the people you are leading, in danger. People could get hurt.  You could get hurt. Because you would be putting not just yourself, but others, in unnecessary danger, your ability to be in the position of a commander could be called into serious  question by your superiors, and for good reason” 
As much as he keeps his voice low and calm, you can sense that he’s disappointed in the way that you’ve handled yourself. Your teeth sink into the inside of your cheek, forcing the tears that prick at the back of your eyes to not fall. You hate disappointing people, and the fact that you’ve managed to disappoint Kix, one of the kindest people you know, makes you want to curl up into a ball and never show your face in public again.
“And that, the safety of yourself, and everyone aboard this ship, is my priority. It is much more important to me than having to report to any superior. The fact that you hold your safety, and by extension, the safety of  those around you, with such blatant disregard, is what concerns me the most, and that is what I need you to understand.” 
There’s a certain gravity in his voice that you’ve never heard before, but it slams into your chest and hits you like a ton of bricks. The implications of what you’ve been doing, of what could have happened to those around you, to his brothers, because of your inability to face your fears begin to swirl around your head with a rapidity that makes your heart race. 
These thoughts come unbidden, and too fast for you to process. The tears, that you’ve been so desperately trying to push back, spring free and begin to fall down your cheeks, unprompted, slowly, and silently. You don’t have time to stop them from coming.
Kix knows that he’s been very direct, and very blunt with you, deciding that this would be the only way to get through to you. He hates having to do it, though. Kix considers himself to be a fairly good judge of character, and he knows that you have such a caring, gentle heart and strong presence wherever you go. So, watching you break in front of him like this pains him.
Your breath hitches in an unsteady gasp as you look up at him, tears blurring your vision. 
“I’m sorry, Ori’vod,” your lip trembles as your voice breaks, wanting to curl in on yourself. “Ni ceta,” you get out in barely a choked whisper.
But he hears you, and it breaks him. 
You’ve never referred to him as ori’vod before, and the idea that you consider him as such, as a big brother, awakens his protective, instinctive nature to gather you close and keep you safe from harm. 
His Vod, mostly his batchmate, Jesse, calls it his mother hen instincts.
He can’t help it, though. Your voice, sounding so much smaller than he’s ever heard it, trembling and filled with tears, has broken what’s left of his resolve, and gently, very gently, mindful of the fact that you’re injured, he takes you into his arms, holding you close to him. Your head buries against his shoulder, and he easily cradles you there, feeling every sharp intake of breath as you cry.
“Oh, adika, shh,” he soothes, hand coming up to gently stroke your hair as he continues to speak softly to you. “You’re okay, I promise, everything is going to be alright. I’ve got you, we are going to sort this out.”
*
“Well,” he says, reading over the results of the medical scan he’s just performed. Would you believe me if I told you that a dislocated shoulder is the least of your concerns?” 
Your eyes find the ceiling, and you exhale a slow breath before asking, “how bad?”
He keeps his voice neutral as he relays the results of the scan to you. “According to your last medical check, you were diagnosed with Iron deficiency anemia, not incredibly uncommon, what with our limited access to rations and food with the proper nutrients,” his brow creases as he continues. “However, preliminary scans indicate that your haemoglobin levels haven’t much improved.”
He gives you a look.“You have been taking the supplement you were prescribed?” he asks, in a way that makes you suspicious that he already knows that the answer is no.
You avoid looking at him. “I was, but they kept making my stomach feel queasy all day, so I stopped.”  
Kix Lets out a long suffering sigh. “An issue that we easily could have rectified by changing your treatment plan if you had just let us know,” he scolds. “Nonetheless, I’d like to do a blood test to get exact confirmation of those levels and see how bad the numbers are so that we can Start getting them back up to baseline.” 
Your stomach does a flip and you cringe silently at the mention of a blood test.
Kix continues, consulting the scan results that are displayed on a datapad. “You’ve got untreated burns on your fingers.” He raises a curious eyebrow at you and your cheeks flush.
“They weren’t entirely untreated, I put them under running water,” you try to argue. The unimpressed look he gives you stops you dead in your tracks.
“It wasn’t entirely my fault,” you defend. “I was fixing one of the starfighters that got hit during our last airstrike. I got R2 to help me with the repairs but he wasn’t listening to my instructions. He crossed two of the wrong wires and caused the circuitboard to spark.”
“And that is why you should never ask R2 for help,” he says with a hint of amusement in his voice. “Those burns weren’t given time to heal, and the fact that you’re constantly wielding a lightsaber has exacerbated them. I will apply a burn ointment to them that should take away the pain and speed the process of healing.” 
He fixes you with a look.  
“The most concerning thing is The blaster wound on the front of your right  calf. Really, vod, you should know that injuries being treated and stitched up on the field, especially when not done by a medic, always should be looked over by a medic as soon as possible, due to the unsanitary environment that they were performed in.”
“Tup did his best to stitch it,” you say, feeling the need to defend the brother who, in spite of the fact that he was not a medic, sutured you up as you took cover from separatist battle droids.
“I don’t doubt that he did. I was the instructor who took every single one of the troopers on this ship through their mandatory medical courses, and I did not let them pass without proving that they were adequately able to handle emergency first aid on the field. However, it still remains that you’ve picked up an infection, and to treat it, the sutures will have to be removed, the wound reopened, and extraction of the infected tissue, as well as a course of both IV and oral antibiotics to clear up anything that remains.”
You stare at him, your eyes growing wide with horror as he explains. “How?” You ask, alarmed.
He senses your nerves and leans forward, taking your hand and running his thumb along the back of it reassuringly. “This is a surgical procedure, performed under general anesthesia.” 
You flinch at his words, and your fingers tighten around his with anxiety, needing something to hold onto. 
“I know that sounds scary, especially if you’ve never been put under before. But I promise, this is a fairly common operation. Me and Coric will both be here making sure that you’re okay the whole time.” he continues to stroke his thumb along the backs of your knuckles.
“Let’s take this one step at a time, though. We’ll take care of the things that are manageable, first,” he says, giving you an encouraging smile.
*
“Hey uh...” you say nervously, watching with anxiety fluttering in your stomach as Kix ties a band just above your elbow, prepping you for the blood draw. The way the band tightens, restricts  and squeezes around your arm Makes you feel trapped. You hate it.
“I have... I’ve had, issues in the past when it comes to these,” you say awkwardly, not knowing how to explain.
Kix only looks up at you, raising a perceptive brow. “Are you referring to your predisposition of fainting whenever a blood draw is performed?” he asks, completely unfazed. 
It’s your turn to raise your eyebrows in questioning. “Don’t worry, Coric already has this listed in your file. I’m going to get you to lie down when we do it.”
He has the sensitivity and grace not to mention the fact that he also knows this because he walked into the medbay to find Coric absolutely tearing into a junior medic for letting you leave too soon after you had gotten a blood draw, resulting in you crumpling to the floor in a faint right outside of the medbay doors. 
At your continued staring, he adds, his voice softening. “It’s a normal reaction, that likely is exacerbated because of your low haemoglobin levels. There’s nothing wrong with you, Vod’ika.” he reassures, gently guiding you to lay down on the bed. “Now, just lay down for me, and we’ll get this over with quickly, and if you faint, you faint. It happens, no big deal, I’ll be right here regardless.”  
And because you’re you, you do faint.
The needle itself is always not as bad as you anticipate it being. The Sting, though prominent,  is small and quick and over before you have time to fixate on it. 
It’s only when he’s pressing a cotton swab into the crook of your arm, encouraging you to keep it in place while he puts a Band-Aid over top, that you register the familiar feeling of drowsiness, vision blurring and ears beginning to ring, that always comes before you pass out.
You think that you might give him some indication, some warning, because he’s removing your hand from where it’s been pressing against the cotton round, replacing it with his own, much more steady one. Everything around you is muffled, and it’s jarring, but in a way that is too far away from your immediate concerns to really react to it.
When you come to, he’s pressing a cool, damp cloth to the back of your neck, other hand gently stroking hair away from your forehead. His voice fades back into your consciousness, a stream of gentle, soothing words as your eyes flutter open.
The feeling of the cloth cools your heated skin, and the hand gently running through your hair brings your senses back to focus, grounding you.
“Easy, adika, i’m right here, you’re safe,” he brushes his fingers against your cheek, and when you react, leaning into his touch, he gives you a small smile. “That’s it, there we go, you’re back. Everything’s good,” he soothes, gently stalling your movement when you attempt to sit up.
“Not right now, vod, stay down for a few more minutes. I’ve already got the blood work running through the scanner, and we should have its results quickly, okay.” You give him a small nod, still not really having the energy to do much else. You close your eyes, taking deep breaths as you come back to yourself, and when the scanner beeps, indicating that it completed its diagnostics, you jump slightly.
Kix moves over to check it as you slowly sit up. “Okay, so, your numbers are definitely not nearly where they should be he says, clearly unimpressed.
“But, Once we have taken care of your more serious injuries, will start you with an iron infusion delivered through an IV before transitioning back to pills. Don’t worry, we’ll have you on a much smaller dosage so that we can hopefully circumvent the discomfort you had in your stomach,” he says with optimism, which makes you feel slightly better about the fact that he’s just mentioned an IV. You’re not given much time to fixate on it, though, because he’s already turning away from the scanner, moving back to you.
“Let’s not worry about that right now, though. We have enough problems having to deal with the mess That you’ve made of yourself. I will do my best to resist calling you a di’kut as much as possible,” he says, hands on his hips, and in spite of yourself, it actually makes you laugh.
*
You didn’t realize how sore and irritated the burns on your hands were until you couldn’t hold back the audible sigh of relief that fell from your lips as soon as Kix began applying the burn cream to them. The pain instantly vanished, leaving a pleasant, cooling sensation behind. He wrapped small bacta patches around your injured fingers, explaining that it would make sure that the healing process was unimpeded by the outside environment.
That was easy, quick, painless. 
Your shoulder, on the other hand, is a completely different matter. As soon as Kix touches it, as gentle as he can be, it flares with pain, and your muscles tense, which just makes it worse. 
“I don’t know how you’ve been functioning with this for as long as you have,” he comments dryly. When his fingers press against the bone, assessing the damage with a practised familiarity, you cry out, eyes squeezing shut.
“Haar’chak,” you grit out, as behind you, Kix preps a syringe with local anesthetic. 
“Which one of my di’kut brothers taught you curse words in Mandoa?” he asks, beginning to disinfect the injection site.
You flinch at the cold and your cheeks flush. “Shit, you weren’t supposed to hear that. I can’t tell you that, I made a promise.” 
“Did you now?” he asks, fighting the amused smirk that plays on his lips. “Well, whoever it was, you might as well put your skills that they taught you to use.”
You look at him from over your shoulder, eyebrows raising in confusion.
He explains, “I need to give you an injection of local anaesthetic so that it takes the edge off of resetting your shoulder correctly. I know those aren’t your favourite , so, I am making a deal with you. Let me do this, and I give you free rein to throw whatever Mandoa insult my brothers have taught you at me, no consequences. Is that fair?”
The unimpressed look you’re giving at the syringe turns to surprise, then, slowly, a smile spreads across your face and you nod, quickly looking away from it. “Deal,” you accept, your voice still shaky with nerves but determined.
“Okay, deep breath for me,” He waits for you to inhale. “Perfect, now, on the exhale, give me that insult with all of your might. Ready?”
He waits for you to nod, then prompts you to exhale as he administers the anaesthetic into the back of your shoulder.
“Osi’yaim, that hurt, you di’kut,” what should be just a little pinch to your already injured shoulder makes you cry out the words, and you swear you can hear the familiar sound of Coric laughing from the other side of the medbay.
Your cheeks flush, you did not intend to be that loud. But you don’t apologize, either, and Kix only gives you a rueful grin, nodding in understanding.  
As you wait for the anaesthetic to settle, Kix warns, “I’m gonna be honest, kid, because of how long you’ve left this injury to sit, even with the anesthetic, setting it is still going to hurt.” 
You close your eyes, grimacing, before nodding with a sigh. “Do your worst,” you say, bracing yourself.
He lays a reassuring hand on your uninjured shoulder. “I need you relaxed, adika,” he says gently. “Trust me, it will only hurt more if you tense like that,” he continues, gently encouraging your shoulder downward with his hand.
“Easy, now. I want you to give me some good deep breath’s. In,” he inhales deeply, holding for a few seconds, “and out,” he lets his breath go in a controlled, slow stream of air.
He waits for you to copy, giving you a few breaths to settle into it as he prepares himself. “Perfect, just like that, keep it up, you’ve got this,” he keeps up the stream of encouraging words as carefully, but firmly, he rotates your arm, guiding your dislocated shoulder back into its proper place with one precise movement.
The sudden flare of pain, even dulled as it is by the anesthetic, takes your breath away momentarily, your vision instantly blurring with tears. When it clears,Kix has shifted to standing in front of you, gently wiping them away with his thumbs.
“Well done, vod’ika, you were so brave,” his words make you want to cry more, because you didn’t think you were brave. You thought that being brave meant confidence, at all times, and not letting other people see your vulnerability. You can’t fully understand it, but, now, you’re beginning to think that maybe your initial idea of bravery was wrong.
Your lip wobbles as you speak, “W what now?” you look up at him with wide, still watery eyes.
He gently strokes your hair. “Now, I’m going to get Coric, and you,” he playfully taps your nose, “are going to take a much-needed nap, if the bags under your eyes are any indication, while we take care of that leg wound.” 
*
It sounds simple enough. 
Kix explains the procedure while Coric preps you for surgery, making sure all your vitals are stable. As he wraps a blood pressure cuff around your arm, he tells you that that’s essentially his job while he’s in here. Throughout the surgery, he will monitor your vitals and make sure that they remain at safe levels. 
“I’m going to remove the sutures, clean the wound, remove the infected tissue, pack the wound with saline soaked dressings, then bandage it back up so that it can heal. It goes without saying that you’re going to be off the field for at least a week. You’ll need to stay here so that we can continue to monitor your recovery as well as change the dressings often. You will also need to undergo a course of IV antibiotics to kill off any lingering infection. This will also give us time to get your haemoglobin levels back up with an infusion.”
Your eyes close tightly as anxiety knots your stomach. “Oh, force, a week? But, my master needs me,” you protest.
When your eyes open again, both medics are fixing you with equally stern looks. “Your master needs you to be safe, and healthy,” says Coric, frowning, as he carefully attaches a pulse oximeter to one of your fingers. 
“If you want to be back on the field as soon as possible, you will take this week of recovery. If you want to argue with me about it, I will make it longer. A week is the absolute minimum,” Kix says, arms folded across his chest, wearing his signature “i’m the chief medical officer, you have no authority here,” expression.
You visibly deflate, reminding yourself that you pick and choose your battles, and picking and choosing a battle with two medics who are very competent at dealing with very stubborn Jedi would be a very stupid idea. 
You can’t help yourself, and in spite of the fact that you shouldn’t, you stare as Kix preps your wrist for an IV line.
Sensing you’re mounting anxiety as your eyes nervously flit around, watching  Kix’s Every move, Coric gently takes your other hand, squeezing when your eyes don’t immediately look at him. When you finally tear your eyes away from what Kix is doing, Coric is wearing a mischievous smile on his face. “So, Vod’ika, who taught you how to curse in Mandoa?” he asks, raising a curious brow.
You only scoff, rolling your eyes. “Kix already tried to find out. What makes you think that I’m going to tell that secret to you?”
“I’ve already got my suspicions. My moneys on Echo or Fives.” he gives you a wounded look, “I thought you would tell me, because I’m obviously your favourite.”
Kix uses this conversation to quickly insert the IV into a vein on your wrist. Reacting to the small pinch, your fingers instinctively tighten around Coric’s hand, squeezing it tightly.
“You’re definitely my favourite now,” you grumble, giving Kix a sidelong glare.
He gives you an apologetic look. “Sorry, Vod, i’m going to run the medication through the line now. It will act quickly, and when you wake up, this will be all done with.” 
You nod, biting your lip nervously. Coric notices, giving your hand another gentle squeeze. “Hey, kid, I know you’ve heard Kix say kaysh mirsh solus all the time. Do you know what it means?” 
You look at him with curiosity, shaking your head.
“Well, essentially it means they are stupid or foolish. But, the literal translation is even more direct .” Coric gives you a conspiratorial smile.
“What is it?” You ask as he leans forward. 
“The literal translation means their braincell is lonely,” he says, completely serious.
You feel a smile pulling up the corners of your lips and a surprised laugh falls from them. 
You feel the medication beginning to enter your system, but you’re so busy laughing that you can’t bring yourself to care. “You better not be bullshitting me,” you threaten,“or I...” you let out a yawn.
“I swear to the force, I,” your eyes begin to flutter and you yawn again, shrugging.
“I’ll think about it later,” you mumble sleepily, before promptly passing out, smile still lighting up your face.
*
Your leg hurts.
That’s the first thing you become aware of as Kix is gently encouraging you to open your eyes.
“Come on, adika, open your eyes for me,” he says  softly, fingers gently brushing against your cheek to bring you back to awareness.
“But it hurts, and I wanna go back to sleep,” you wine, blinking sleepily up at him. 
“Ni ceta, vod’ika,” he soothes, fingers gently caressing your forehead in an apology. “I know it hurts, and you can go back to sleep soon, I promise,” 
He glances at something that you can’t see, giving a small nod,“Vitals look good, the anaesthesia is wearing off nicely, and it doesn’t appear to have affected them too much. Let’s up that IV dosage,” Kix speaks to Coric, who moves to adjust your IV out of your eyeline.
Your leg throbs, and you let out a stifled whimper, hand reaching down, trying to at least find the source of your pain when Kix catches it in his, gently stalling your movements. “Let’s leave that alone for now, vod’ika. Coric is just increasing your pain med intake, that will make it better. Then you can sleep,” 
At the continued expression of pain on your face, he lets go of your hand, fingers gently playing with your hair as he instructs, “nice and easy, adika, deep breath‘s for me, everything’s okay.” 
You don’t believe him at first, but slowly, things become okay. The pain quickly fades and dulls , breathing becomes easier, and your eyes begin to flutter. All the while, Kix continues holding his vigil at your bedside, fingers continuing to gently run through your hair until you fall into a natural sleep.
*
When you properly wake up next, the first thing you notice is that your leg doesn’t hurt anymore.
Whatever pain meds Kix has got you hooked up to are very effective, and your lips pull into a relieved smile. 
The second thing you notice, when you glance around to get your bearings, is the face of your very concerned captain, Rex, at your bedside. You blink slowly, yawning. Although the anaesthetic has worn off, the pain meds still have you feeling like you’re in a fog, and your brain is working pretty slowly.
“When did you get here?” you ask, confused.
“I came straight here after you never reported to the bridge for today’s debriefing. The general said that you would be back today, and it’s unlike you to miss or forget about meetings,” he explains, looking at you, relieved to see you awake, but a flicker of concern still lingering in his eyes.
“Osik, sorry, Rex, I got myself into a bit of a bind over here,” you gesture to the IV that you’re hooked up to, chuckling a little.
“So I heard, don’t worry about it, kid. There wasn’t much to report, anyways.” His head tilts, and he raises a questioning eyebrow.“Who taught you how to curse in Mandoa, vod’ika?” he asks, keeping his voice light.
If you weren’t under the influence of pretty heavy duty pain medication‘s, you would have restraint, you would have thought before you opened your mouth. But for Rex, it was his lucky day.
you smirk, “good old Hardcase taught me everything I know,” you say with pride, smiling fondly at the memory.
Rex carefully files that information away so that he can scold Hardcase for that once he leaves. But he carefully keeps his face neutral.
His face grows serious. “Kix told me about all the medical appointments you’ve missed and the injuries that you’ve been covering up,” his voice is stern, every bit the commanding officer that he is in front of the troops. It makes you nervous, and you swallow, looking away from him.
“I swear to the force, if you ever pull something like that again, I will find out about it, and I’ll drag you to the medbay myself, even if it means chasing you around the ship and stunning you if I have to. do you realize how much danger you were in? How much danger you put others in? That was extremely reckless of you, commander. I’m very disappointed in your actions,  and it will not happen again, do you understand?”
Your hazy memory recalls the conversation you had with Kix earlier, about this very thing, and for some reason, it hits even harder seeing the disappointment, worry and concern etched on the face of the normally composed captain.
Without prompting, you find yourself bursting into tears. 
Later, you’ll blame the pain meds on your inability to keep a grip on your emotions. But right now, all you can do is think about the people, the brothers, you could have hurt, the things that could’ve happened because of you, and the tears just fall down your face, streaming from your eyes, falling down your cheeks, into your ears, dampening your hair.
.“I I’m sorry Captain I I didn’t I,” you gasp out, trying to explain, but your brain is still foggy, only clinging onto the hazy images of loss and pain due to your inability to act fast enough.
There’s a reason why people are convinced that Kix has eyes on the back of his head. Working as the highest ranking medic in the 501st has trained him to be hyper observant of all of his patients, even if he isn’t at their bedside. 
So, even though he’s been taking the time to update your file on a datapad, unbeknownst to either you or Rex, he’s also been watching you like a hawk, and the minute you begin to show that you’re overwhelmed, he’s swooping in on the two of you, protective mother hen mode fully activated by the tears falling down your cheeks.
He steps in front of you, broad shoulders immediately blocking your view of your commanding officer. “Captain,” he says, and his voice is still respectful, but there’s a hard edge beneath it, something stern that you haven’t heard before, even during the worst of him lecturing you.
“You are causing undue stress to my patient, and I’m going to have to ask you to leave, sir,” he continues, physically ushering Rex to the door.
More quietly, out of your earshot, he says,“I have already harshly reprimanded the commander. Trust me, this experience will ensure that the lesson will not be forgotten.  Now, if you want to be of use, get the general and bring him to me, please. I need to speak with him. Between you and me, Rex, I’m blaming this ordeal on him.” 
Rex begins to make an objection, but  Kix is already turning away, folding his arms. “I don’t care if you have to drag him out of council meetings. His Padawan is more important,” he shoots back, before quickly moving back to your side, all of his hard lines instantly fading at the sight of your tear streaked face.
He’s all gentleness and soft reassurances uttered as he cups your face, wiping away your tears. When you struggle into a sitting position, falling against his chest as your arms clumsily reach for him, his arms easily pull you close to him and you sob, trying to explain.
“Kix, I, I didn’t mean to, I never wanted to hurt anyone,” you whisper, clutching at him, burying your face into the crook of his neck, wanting to disappear, feeling his body shift, one hand splayed out, rubbing your back in slow, soothing circles, the other coming up to cradle your head, holding you against his warmth, sheltering you.
“Oh, adika, shh, I know. You didn’t hurt anyone, vod’ika, nothing happened,” he coos, tightening his arms around you. Lips press against your hair briefly, and you continue to cry, letting your emotions run their course as he cradles you to him, gently rocking you back-and-forth, as if you were a much smaller child.  
In this moment, you certainly feel like you are, and it’s comforting, the way he holds and settles you against him , making gentle shushing noises and speaking in low, soothing tones, the words eventually losing their meaning as sleep, yet again, gently pulls at your consciousness.
The last thing you’re aware of is him gently guiding you to lie back down, another medic, you think it’s Coric, passing him a freshly warmed blanket that he tucks around you, and a hand gently brushing through your hair as you drift back to sleep, your storm settled and calmed by his words and his presence.
*
Anakin Skywalker had been in meetings with the Jedi high Council all day, was running on his 3rd cup of caff, and still found himself stifling a yawn every five minutes. So, when Rex silently slipped into the room, politely interrupting the meeting to request that Anakin report to the medbay, he instinctively rolled his eyes, grumbling that he would go later. 
But when Rex stated that this wasn’t actually about him, and was in regards to his Padawan, Anakin was out of his seat in an instant, hastily making his excuses to the council before leaving the room, legs carrying him to the medbay faster than he ever had moved there before.
He doesn’t even stop to look as behind him, Rex calls to a group of troopers in a booming voice, “Hardcase, get Over here right now,  you di’kut, I need to talk to you regarding professionalism when it comes to working with young Padawan’s .”
When he’s escorted into a cubicle, his eyes grow wide with alarm at the sight of you, peacefully asleep, but your face looks exhausted and worn out. You’re hooked up to an IV and monitors, there’s a thick bandage that’s been secured to the bottom half of your right leg.
Kix keeps his voice low and quiet, so as not to disturb you, but he fixes your master with a hard look as he takes him through an overview of your current health status.
“Iron deficiency anemia, burns, a dislocated shoulder, a blaster wound that had to be surgically operated on due to an untreated infection that had grown quite severe and needed to be manually removed, as well as several muscle strains and bruised ribs that can be healed with proper rest.” 
His mouth falls open at the growing list, but Kix only folds his arms, continuing to speak. “General, sir, your Padawan looks to you with the highest regard, and you lead the way by example. All of these issues could have been caught much earlier and treated without having to deal with all this,” he gestures at everything you’re hooked up to.
“This behaviour was learned, and when I pressed, I found that at the root of the problem was fear of disappointing you and letting you down,” he waits for these words to sink in, and when they do, Anakin Skywalker, Jedi general who is known for his strength and recklessness on the field, hangs his head with shame, eyes finding the floor and refusing to look at Kix directly.
His meaning is clear, you are his Padawan, and as your master, it’s his responsibility to set a good example for you, and in this regard, watching pain medication flow through the IV line attached to your wrist, he knows he has failed to do so.
“So, just maybe, the next time you decide that are mandatory medical checks are optional and you can manage on your own, maybe just, consider this,” Kix gestures to you, still deeply asleep.
Before your master can respond, not that he really has any words to do so, Kix turns on his heel, quickly exiting the room before he can be reprimanded for speaking to his superior that way, not that he really cares, anyway.
If he had stayed, though, he would have seen Anakin tentatively move to your side, gently sitting on the edge of your bed as he strokes back your hair and adjusts the blankets that are tucked around you, properly shamefaced as he looks down at you and says in a voice that is soft and rarely heard coming out of him, “I’m sorry, kiddo, this one’s on me.”
*
“And this,” says Kix, quickly injecting the third and final mandatory vaccination into your arm, “is your ticket out of here.”
The week of recovery has come and gone, And you have finally been cleared to head back onto the field, as long as you continue to follow a regimen of oral antibiotics for the next week, and, more excitingly in your opinion, get out of the medbay.
“There you go, you did it,” Fives, who’s been sitting across from you, happily agreeing to be your emotional support/cheerleader, ready with a damp cloth if you need it, does a little celebratory dance that makes you laugh, even as Kix, sensing that you’re feeling unsteady, gets you to lay down.
Fives gently places the cool cloth against your skin, and it’s enough to ground you, pulling you back from the edge.
“That’s it, Vod’ika, well done, you did great,” Kix says encouragingly, giving your shoulder a warm squeeze. “Now, wait 15 minutes, and as long as you’re feeling back to normal, you can get out of here,” he smiles down at you, patting your head affectionately before moving out of the cubicle.
As soon as he’s gone, Fives liens in conspiratorially, face lighting up with mischievousness sparkling in his eyes. “Hey, kid, I bet you 10 credits that I could easily sneak you out right now and we could make this 15 minutes go a lot faster,” he grins.
In spite of the fact that you smile back at him and laugh lightly, you give your head a small shake and throw a cautious look over your shoulder.
“Are you kidding? I’ve been here for a whole week, and the biggest thing I’ve learned is that  Kix and Coric do, in fact, have eyes in the back of their heads. We wouldn’t even make it out of the door.” 
It’s true, you’ve seen several different troopers trying to carefully sneak out of the medbay when they think that no one is watching. 
What you’ve learned, though, is that the medics of Torrent Company are always watching. Nothing gets past their keen eyes or ears, and no one successfully sneaks out undetected. 
You grimace, “besides, I’ve just gotten off of Kix’s bad side, and I have no desire to go back there.”
“So,” Fives says, resignedly coming to sit on the edge of your bed with a sigh. “We’re waiting the 15 minutes?”
You carefully sit up, giving him a nod and a decisive look as you lean your head against his shoulder..
“Yes, Fives,” you affirm, letting out a small sigh of your own. “We are waiting the 15 minutes.”
************************* thank you so much for reading. Comments and re-blogs are always appreciated here.are always appreciated here.
Mandoa translations. Kaysh mirsh solus, they are stupid/foolish. Ori’vod: Big Brother (in this instance) can also be used as big sister or big sibling. Ni ceta: i’m sorry. Vod: Brother/ sister/ sibling. Adika: little one. Vod’ika: Little sister, little brother, or little sibling Haar’chak: damm it. Di’kut: Fool (literal translation is underwear forgeter) which kills me. Osi’yaim: shithead. Osik: shit.
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when I played Caribert, I was pretty disappointed about the lack of impact Dain seemed to have on Kaeya, honestly. during Kaeya's hangout, he didn't mention the weird cryptic blond dude who just dropped family lore once, which I thought would have been pretty important?
but in truth, I think Dain actually had a HUGE impact on Kaeya.
we can all know that from Kaeya's personal lore and former events that Kaeya had very conflicted feelings over his duty to Khaenri'ah and his love for Mondstadt, even with his estranged relationship with Diluc (which now seems partly fixed?), but in the performance route of Kaeya's hangout, Kaeya makes his choice.
The story of Prince Qubad is a very, very thinly veiled metaphor for Khaenri'ah all throughout, and then we finally get to the end scene of the play:
Kaeya: When I departed my beloved home to fight in a foreign land, I did so to honor his (my father's) wishes and for my duty to our people. Kaeya: alas, is this fate's grand design… that I should spend the rest of my days in a foreign land, till I am laid to rest in a grave far from home? K: Must it be so…? K: my dear audience, I ask you this: do you believe in fate? if fate decreed that your life was to end in tragedy, what would you do? Traveler: I would challenge my fate, and rise above it. / I would bravely face my fate. K: then so must it be! I shall discard this intaglio, and rid myself of the shackles of fate. G: my dear prince, do you intend to betray your father, and abandon your heritage? K: fate means to send the machinations of war to every corner of the land, to fan the flames of conflict til they engulf the entire world…
K: fate would see my sword tainted with the blood of innocents, that the bright banner of my homeland might fly in every nation known to mankind. K: but I shall not bow to the will of fate. I am no pawn in heaven's plan. K: I, Kaeya Qubad, will spend the rest of my days in a foreign land, til I breathe my last in a place far from home. K: but I must walk this path, or freedom dies by my hand. goodbye, my tribe and kin. farewell, sweet land of my birth.
after a lifetime of questioning his role, Kaeya makes his choice for Mondstadt. and I think this happening after meeting Dain isn't a coincidence. (and no, not in a soulmate way or shipping way- this is Kaeya's moment of choice, not infatuation.)
after not only learning the history of his origins, Kaeya meets a Khaenri'ahn who... doesn't want to return Khaenri'ah to its glory days? who is more focused on helping others and minimizing damage than causing more for his own gain? who chose his path and has not budged since, even through loss?
Kaeya gets to see someone who is so Khaenri'ahn, so human at his core, someone who cares not for the fate and tragedy of their nation. Kaeya gets to meet someone from his homeland who tells him to leave it all behind, who tells him he should take the chance he has been given at his own life; who actively discourages the idea of Kaeya being a fated "prince" or being indebted to Khaenri'ah.
even though he never said it, I think meeting Dainsleif helped Kaeya choose his own path, which is all Dain ever truly asked of him, anyway.
good for Kaeya.
(i understand that i used "ship" tags but those are more for visibility and duo name than anything else. idm if you ship them, i just request that your tags do not turn my analysis post into a ship post, pls! :)
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blessedwithabadomen · 4 months
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in love with the mess - day one
summary : Aubrey is going on tour and, for once, she's decided to focus on having as much fun as possible. Oli can be a little shit but he does nothing short of adore Audrey and... well, maybe Noah a little, too. Noah likes the flirting, as long as no one gets too close, emotionally. But what will happen when the three of them take it too far?
content : fluff and flirting
length : 3.1k
tags (let me know if you want to be tagged!) : @veronicaphoenix @cookiesupplier @lma1986 @jilliemiw86 @bngurngheart @lacktoesandtoddlerants @narcissisticbehavior81 @flowery-mess @shilohrosechicken
a/n: I'm not home this week so I hope this posts correctly from my phone 😬 enjoy the chapter!!
•••
day one
If there was one thing to know about me it was that I was an absolute whore for a breakfast buffet. And the one at this hotel had both a waffle station and a chef to make you omelettes on demand so really, I couldn't be to blame. It was simply unfortunate that I was elbows deep in a plate of chocolate croissants I’d balanced on my table when Noah appeared.
For a singular moment I still had hope that he would not see me or even then, decide to ignore me and enjoy the quiet morning by himself, but after a quick detour to the coffee machine, he confidently took the seat across from me.
“You stuff everything in your mouth with that much vigour?”
Both of us froze in the middle of our movements. From the look in his eyes, I was pretty sure that he was not insinuating what we were both thinking now, the realisation of what his words could mean hitting him only after they’d already been spoken. I was trying so hard not to let my face twist into a grin, or full on laughter, and it was becoming increasingly difficult with every second of horror passing through his eyes.
“Wouldn’t you like to know?”
Finally realising that I was very much seeing the humour in his slip-up, he cracked a handsome smile, half-hidden by the hand that was rubbing his face as he groaned. I had half a mind to throw another remark at him, tease him about his faux pas a little further, but my eyes were trained on the back of his hand and the dark flower design inked into the skin.
Carefully reaching for him, I pulled the hand away from his face, lying it palm-down on the table between us between my plate of sweets and his coffee, just to study the tattoo further. Tracing every line on every patel, I committed the design to memory. It was gorgeous and it was perfect on him.
“You got any tattoos?” Noah tried very hard to sound normal, but I heard the huskiness in his voice, one that hadn’t been there before. I hoped it had to do with my touch. It was why I didn’t quite let go of him when I answered.
“A couple,” I mused. “Most of them hidden away though. Had some, quite ridiculous I can say now, ideas about wanting to have the option of a normal job that might not like to see me covered in ink. Although I’m pretty sure that ship’s sailed, so I’m definitely looking to get started on my arms soon.”
“Where’s the ones you have so far?”
He was probably expecting my legs, my shoulders, something easily shown with barely any clothes removal. Something I could let him see right now. He wasn’t entirely wrong. I did have a couple in those spots, too.
“I don’t think I can show you in a public place without becoming a menace.”
Noah’s hand visibly flinched underneath mine and he pulled back, immediately making me miss his warmth. He took a long sip of his coffee and I wondered if it was an attempt to buy some time.
“This was, um,” he coughed in between his words, “a great talk but you’re a fucking flirt and I need a bit more caffeine to deal with you.”
Disappointment flooded my veins as he got up from the table - had I been too much? Said the wrong thing? Come on too strongly? I knew I had vowed to take Lia’s advice at being a little more offensive and letting myself do whatever I was in the mood for, but that didn’t mean it was appreciated. Maybe I should back down. Keep more to myself after all. Not be so damn-
“Find me later?” He asked with a grin as he stopped next to my chair on the way out.
Well. Maybe I didn’t need to change much at all.
•••
I had forgotten how much running around was involved in a job like that. I wasn't complaining really, I did enjoy that it kept me on my toes, but I was thoroughly exhausted by the time I basically dropped Oli off for soundcheck. He'd had several appointments beforehand that I accompanied him to and even when he was busy, he still found time to think of fifteen different things he had forgotten in some place or other and needed immediately, making me cross the arena and the hotel several times more than necessary. He had way too much fun with it too.
Now I finally saw a chance to take a breather, so I grabbed a couple of things from catering (surprisingly good catering actually, Bring Me The Horizon had really moved up in the world it seemed) and went on a hunt for a quiet backstage room. I was fully planning on bunking up in one of Bring Me’s dressing rooms as they should all technically be empty now, but when I walked past a different door, half open, half closed, I couldnt help but stop as I looked inside. Noah was sitting on a couch - well, I said sitting, I really meant he was halfway to sliding down off it, his head collapsed onto the back ledge, eyes closed, looking ridiculously uncomfortable.
I didn’t mean to disturb him. In fact, I didn’t quite know what the plan was at all, but in one split decision, I walked into the room, quietly closing the door behind me and sitting down on the couch next to him. Balancing my stuff on the table, I scooped some of my (honestly deliciously smelling pasta) on a fork and carefully held it under Noah’s nose.
It was like watching a dog sleep that suddenly started dreaming of the very smell that surrounded him in real life. His nose was starting to twitch in the most adorable way, then his breathing changed a little. One by one, his body was waking up, not quite sure yet why, but pulled from his sleep anyway.
His eyes finally opened, a little at first, then more, slightly swollen from the nap had seemingly had taken him by force, as he tried to focus on where we was. Blinking, then blinking again, he finally set sight on the fork in front of him, brows furrowing as he pulled his head back to look at it better in utter confusion.
“What the-”
Noah finally sat up properly, only just now noticing me sitting next to him, amused beyond belief as I finally pushed the fork in my mouth. The pasta was a little cool already, but still surprisingly tasty. Good venues came with good catering apparently.
“Want one?” I asked, scoopin up some more pasta and holding it out to him. Still a little dazed, he simply opened his mouth and let me carefully feed him a portion.
“Didn’t you two meet, like, yesterday?” I looked up in surprise as someone entered the room. Folio, I think his name was, drummer for Bad Omens, currently looking at us with an questioning, but not unkind smile. “What’s with the married couple behaviour?”
“Very funny,” Noah commented, but there wasn’t the usual playfulness in his voice. I instinctively pulled back a little.
Both men exchanged looks I couldn’t quite interpret. I didn’t know either of them well enough to know what they were silently communicating, but I knew there was a conversation happening that I wasn’t part of. The intensity of it was felt in the whole room though. If I was the reason for it, I wanted to never be put in this position again. It even put me off the pasta I’d been shovelling in my mouth with vigour.
Then Folio turned away from him and toward me, once again showing his smile which seemed so out of place for a moment that I wondered if I had purely imagined the unease I had felt before.
“Oli’s looking for you, by the way. Apparently he left his phone in his dressing room.”
“I’d wondered why it was so quiet,” I mumbled with a look toward my own mobile. “Not sure why I thought I could escape him.”
Folio sent me a pitiful look, even though I was sure he knew as well as I did that I wasn’t really complaining. Getting up from the sofa, I cradled my pasta again, determined to finish it one way or another, putting my phone into the pocket of my jeans, when I felt a hand on me.
Noah’s fingers were wrapped around my wrist. He had sat up slightly just to reach me. I both wanted to lean into his touch and pull away, almost overwhelmed by the sensations running through my body with his fingers on my pulse point.
“Are you watching the set later?”
“Yeah, I… Oli said I could watch the show from the sound desk.”
“Good. I hope you enjoy it. I’d say I’ll look for you but I don’t think I can see that far.”
And then he sent me a smile that had my heart soaring and I was once again ready to throw all caution in the wind.
•••
“Are you sure this is okay?”
I carefully slid into a designated spot at the sound desk, giving everyone around me smiles that I hoped would convince them not to hate me for intruding into their workspace.
“Well if you touch anything, we’ll have to burn you at the stake… Other than that, welcome to the sound desk!” The woman next to me cheerfully explained. “Don’t worry, Oli vouched for you, so unless you’re extraordinarily clumsy and manage to undo all our work with the sweep of a hand over our stuff, you’re grand.”
“I’ll try my very best,” I promised. “And if I fuck anything up, take it from Oli’s wages please.”
“Oh, gladly!”
I watched as she went back to work, preparing for the upcoming Bad Omens set, and I couldn’t help but study her a little bit. If I hadn’t known from the AAA pass around her neck and, well, the fact that she seemed to know what she was doing and wasn’t in the process of getting kicked out, I couldn’t have told her from the fans that were starting to crowd around us in the venue.
She hadn’t overdone it by any measure and her face, as far as I could see, was blank of any make-up, but she had dressed the part with ease. Heavy boots accompanied her black shorts perfectly, making her look both tough and delicate somehow, her black top was wrapped in a corset, she was wearing a choker and several earrings. It just made sense. Looking down at myself, I was suddenly less thrilled with my hastily put-on choice of clothing from that morning. A simple pair of dark jeans, a non-descript shirt, no accessories whatsoever.
I didn’t know why I hadn’t made more of an effort. It wasn’t that I thought it was expected of me or necessary in any way, but looking at the sound tech reminded me of how much fun I usually had dressing up. In fact, half of my wardrobe at home was stuffed with elaborate pairs of trousers, laced tops, skater skirts, platform boots. Only I hadn’t really packed any of it.
Pulling out my phone, I shot a text to Lia.
Aubrey
Have I been hiding myself away lately
Lia
context pls
Aubrey
I can’t remember the last time I dressed up and it’s just hit me with everyone in this venue looking so fucking fab
For a moment, I wondered if she was already giving up on messaging me, but when I looked back at my phone, I realised that she was instead recording an audio message. Oh dear. Checking the time, I made sure I would manage to get a good listen before the lights dimmed and Bad Omen’s show began.
“Babe, since you’re finally realising it yourself now, yes, you’ve been letting yourself go. I didn’t want to push you too hard - well, I would have if you’d gotten really bad, you know that but then Oli called so that was off the table. But since… you know, you had that girlfriend and it was all fucked up and your family basically - well, let me just say I’m still available to beat any of them up. The ex and the family. You know that. But yeah. It’s taken a toll on you and you’ve not been yourself lately and it’s been painful to watch. Which is why I’ve been telling you to have some fucking fun on this tour. Put on that dress and that lipstick and get back to being yourself, yeah? And now enjoy the show and give Noah some air kisses from me, love you, bye!”
I felt dumbstruck. Had it really gotten that bad? Had everyone noticed but me? I knew I’d been struggling a bit since my last relationship drama and everything that followed (and technically preceeded) it, but… Lia’s words were ringing in my head. Maybe I had been letting myself go. It wasn’t worryingly bad, surely, but had I been my usual self? I thought I was seeing glimpses of it again now that I was on tour.
Quickly checking the schedule on my phone I realised that after today it was one more gig before a day off between Bournemouth and Birmingham. I shot Oli a message.
Aubrey
I don’t care what kinda disguise you need to go out but you need to take me clothes shopping in two days xoxo
Oli
I’ll get a fake moustache
•••
Bad Omens were a force to behold on stage. I couldn’t help but keep my eyes on Noah as much as the distance would allow me to, hanging onto his every word, studying his every movement. It was mesmerising. I’d never had the pleasure of seeing them live before but I already knew I’d make sure to catch them several more times on this tour. There was simply no way around it.
The break was spent chatting to the sound tech whose name I finally learned was Becky. It turned out she was extremely passionate when it came to talking about her craft and I was a willing listener. Nothing she said made a lot of sense so far as she threw all kinds of technical terms at me, but it was fascinating to hear her explain how much of a part she and her team really played in making this an experience, rather than just a live show.
She barely managed to stop talking by the time she was nudged by someone else on her team to notify her of the performance being about to start, which left her busy for the next one hundred minutes and me with too many thoughts and no one to voice them to. So I did the only sensible thing I could think of. I spam-texted Oli all of them for him to find after the show.
Aubrey
Opening with darkside is bold but I love a bold man
Aubrey
I love this setlist so much
I know you showed it to me yesterday but it doesn’t compare
Also the visuals wow
Aubrey
You look very good in red btw and so does your ass
Aubrey
Cause you got a taste noooow drank the kool-aid by the juuuuug
Oh dear I hope everyone’s ok
I’m glad you’re stopping shows liberally these days to make sure
Aubrey
I said it before and I’ll say it again, strangers into diamonds is fucking insane and I don’t know who allowed you to do that
Aubrey
Antiviiiiiiist!! Tell Noah he looks good in that mask
Aubrey
Also why were you getting a headrush after that song hmmm was it performing with Noah do you love him I’d get a headrush to if I screamed with him like that and got to give him two hugs
Aubrey
Yeah the doomed montage is making me cry, fuck you
Aubrey
I hope you have fun whenever you find these messages
I promise I wasn’t drunk when I wrote them just high on live music heyyyy
•••
Walking backstage, I immediately ran into the band leaving the stage. Lee held out his hand for a high five, massive smiles all around from a successful start to the tour, and I wasn’t one to leave him hanging. It ended with everyone who came up behind him following suit on the high fives, until Oli appeared at last, who instead grabbed onto my hand and clumsily twirled me around myself. I was still stumbling over my feet, uncoordinated feet unable to keep up with the sudden movement, when he pulled me into his chest for a hug.
Oli was made of pure adrenaline. I could basically smell it radiating off him. There was laughter in my ear, exhilaration from the first show having gone well, his hands pushing against my back so tightly I had no choice but to melt into him. Any attempt at not touching his bare skin were futile as my fingers slipped under his cropped jacket. He was hot and sweaty, but I didn’t mind one bit. If anything, it awakened something more primal in me. Something that begged to claw at his skin, push him against the nearest wall, have a taste of the droplets running down his chest. I was almost glad when he let me go for fear of what my hands would do if he didn’t.
“I sent you a couple of messages during the set by the way. You can read them as a slightly unhinged bedtime story,” I explained as he nudged me to get a move on toward the dressing rooms.
“Oh I bet those will put me right to sleep,” he laughed.
“Did you actually say that you had a headrush on stage after performing with Noah?”
“Fuck, yeah, my head was fucking spinning, thought I was gonna faint.”
“Was it so stimulating be around him?” I teased, moving to tickle his side, but he quickly dodged me and fell onto the sofa alone. “Does he make your heart race?”
Oli eyed me for a moment, pushing his hair back. I tried my best to ignore how good it looked on him.
“See, you talk about him so much, I can’t tell if you wanna hook up with him or if you want to set me up with him.”
I genuinely didn’t know how to answer that. I didn’t think I quite knew it myself.
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silviakundera · 2 months
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Kinnporsche Fanfic Recs
In celebration of the 2 year anniversary, here is an avalanche of Kinn/Porsche fics that I've enjoyed. Painfully incomplete & posted in no particular order. My shipping interests are 100% focused on the K/P couple and that will be reflected in my list, sorry 😘.
Deep Like a Coastal Shelf by Lilla_Torg
(79,000 words) Green Arrow inspired AU. "After five years abroad, Kinn Theerapanyakul returns to find his city under siege by a vigilante known as the Phoenix."
Stain of Sun by Lilla_Torg
(78,000 words) Omega brothers Porsche (hacker) and Chay (grifter) team up to take down the Theerapanyakul crime family. Things do not go as planned. // This marries A/B/O with mutant powers. As long as you're not wholly opposed to Omegaverse, give it a chance. Every one of this author's long KPtS fics is a banger.
Pouring Down Crimson Fire by Lilla_Torg
(119,000 words) Sort of a mutant AU but honestly that underplays how fucking cool this fic is. “I think you know something about keeping secrets,” said Kinn. He flashed Porsche a pocket-ace smirk. “You’re mine. Say it.”
The boy he’d been fourteen years ago would have told him where to shove it. But Porsche had been around long enough to know that the mafia always won. Still, he looked around, searching for a way out, before giving up and turning back to Kinn, those black eyes awaiting his surrender.
“I’m yours,” he said.
a perpetual unscattering by concernedlily
(31,000 words) Canon-divergence AU. “Pissing in bottles behind a cocktail bar,” Kinn said. “But Pa gave him to me, so I’m stuck with him.” To a visibly furious Porsche he said, “You don’t know the minor family? Never come across any of them before?”
“How would I know the fucking minor family?” Porsche snapped.
what a tangled web we weave by fortunehasgivenup
(80,000 words) 1000 Nights inspired alternate universe, fantasy-historical Thailand. // After the betrayal of his first husband, King Anakinn Theerapanyakul vows to never love again. Once a week, he takes a new husband, a young man who will not live to see another dawn.
When a nobleman comes to find a young man to adopt and marry off to the king in place of his own son, Thee chooses Chay.
Faced with an outcome that he refuses to contemplate, Porsche steps in and takes Chay's place. He only has one request for the king - to be allowed to tell his brother one last bedtime story.
Burn Your Name Into My Skin by Everyforkedroad
(72,000 words) In which Kinn visits a high-end sex club and he & Porsche meet under the guise of anonymity for what should be a 1 night encounter. Except not only are they intensely drawn together... things are not what they seem.
Salt by ronandhermy
(49,000 words) Sweat stings because the salt is purifying. Porsche may be in high school but he is still a National Champion in Taekwondo and he catches the eye of the national team's newest sponsor: The Theerapanyakun Family. Alternate first meeting. Leans into the darkness of canon, read the tags and proceed w caution.
how do you like it, daddy by Baby_Droll
(28,000 words) "and ain't shit 'bout me cheap and ain't shit 'bout me free" - our lord and savior, florence millicent. kinn & porsche, and all the other pieces on their fucked up chess board. a sugar baby/daddy au with an omegaverse twist. // This is a dark reimagining alternate universe. Iconic toxic K/P fic.
two shots by Martynax
(81,000 words) AU, different first meeting. Porsche joined the armed forces & became a hired gun. // “So I’m supposed to end a mafia dispute?”
“Something like that,” he mutters, wondering if he’s making a mistake, revealing it to Porsche so soon. Nothing is set in stone, after all. But he has a gut feeling that the man appreciates honesty and simplicity much more than intrigue and schemes.
be the best you ever tasted by Martynax
(90,000 words) an AU where Porsche's life is shit so he shakes his perky little bum for strangers at a strip club and Kinn books him for a private show. Porsche doesn't fuck customers and shouldn't get associated with whatever grey business his boss is trying to run out of the club. But... you know how this is gonna go.
between the sheets by DasWarSchonKaputt
(70,000 words) “And who’s that?”
“Oh. That’s Porsche. He’s Khun Kinn’s live-in boytoy. He’s harmless, mostly. Just a pretty face.”
A boyfriend can go so many places a bodyguard can’t. As the threat of a potential leak in their security forces looms large, Khun Korn hatches a plot to place an added layer of protection around his heir presumptive. Enter Porsche, former bartender, current bodyguard, and reluctant fake boyfriend of Kinn Theerapanyakul.
Stumbling to the Edge by FireRisingOverTheHills
(51,000 words) Of the genre of KP fics where Kinn and Porsche meet-cute in a random bar encounter, instead of a meet-ugly, this one is my fav. I just really enjoy the Kinn PoV with his what?! is?! happening??? vibes as he finds himself irresistibly drawn to someone who doesn't fit neatly into defined roles.
"He makes this all seem like it’s perfectly normal and Kinn is helpless to do anything but go along with it."
Whatever Else that Touches You by technicallyverycowboy
(9,330 words) Tender established relationship and bisexual self discovery, post canon. // "No, it's fine." Porsche shifts to be a little less plastered against Kinn's side, straightens his shoulders and smooths out his jacket with great dignity. "The answer to your question is yes, I have really never been with any other men."  Porsche answers questions, asks some of his own, tries new things, and fills in the knowledge gaps of his own sexuality.
An Elegant Mechanism by Laughsalot3412
(87,000 words) A/B/O AU, Kim centric with some background K/P and dysfunctional brothers & cousin bonding. The only fic on this list that isn't K/P primary. //  "Kim was only an omega when he was luring people closer to his gun. No one had to give Kim a weapon. He was one.  (Kim's mission is to get close to Porchay Kittisawat. Chay is not a typical alpha. Kim is not a typical omega. Kim isn't having feelings and Chay is going to be so normal about all of this.)"
Love and Violence by thewayside
(9,500 words) Beautifully written, post ep 14. // "Love and violence have always been bedfellows for Kinn. Down to how his first proper relationship ended in a pool of blood. Porsche’s beauty might have drawn him in, but he knows in his gut that he met someone in kind that first night, blood coursing through their veins as the fight ended and Porsche led him onto a bike to a road he barely knew."
Burnished night, blood-soaked stars by The_Old_Astronomer
(13,000 words) Missing scene set between the end of episode 6 and the side story (pre-ep 7). Porsche fights to keep Kinn alive after the attack, and gradually realises how much the other man means to him.
Night Call by vesna (mrsronweasley)
(34,500 words) "On Kinn's birthday, Kinn is dragged by Tae and Time to a strip club, where he gets a private dance from a man who calls himself Jom. Kinn is smitten. Things spin out from there." Canon AU, where Porsche became a stripper because bartending wasn't paying enough.
NFWMB by vesna (mrsronweasley)
(18,700 words) There's a rushing in Kinn's ears, a noise he can't shake. It almost makes him miss the next thing Arm tells him. "He was supposed to check in, as per protocol, but—"  "But what," Kinn snaps. A headache is building behind one of his eyes.  Arm's eyes are wide right before he lowers them and says, "He hasn't been heard from in two and a half hours."  Or, post-canon Porsche is kidnapped. Kinn goes through it.
Caught Off Guard by Altered_Ego
(23,000 words) The one where Porsche is one of his escort's bodyguard. Alternate first meeting; Porsche took another path to support his brother.
the less i know the better by mslunita
(45,000 words) Bored Kinn joins Tinder in hopes of getting his rocks off with a different kind of guy, instead of the standard escorts. Porsche challenges him in just the right way. // Alternate first meeting. Basically their canon selves, but this is after Porsche has already had his bi awakening.
XXX curious STRAIGHT boy BEGS for COCK for the FIRST TIME XXX by mirrorofprinces
(35,000 words ) Porn industry AU. “Porsche is extremely close to signing. In fact, he has a final meeting with the execs on Monday morning. The only condition is that he wants to request his first partner, and it’s you.”  Kinn takes a long drink of his whiskey, sets the glass down, and runs his tongue over his teeth. “So you had to meet with me, urgently, to tell me that a beautiful boy wants me to fuck him, thinking I’d say no.” He drums his fingers on the bartop. “Which means there’s a catch.”
paint my kiss across your chest (your touch is like a happy pill) by darkknight
(16,000 words) Episode 8 era. "Porsche discovers different new ways of how good sex can feel, ways that would never even have crossed his mind before meeting Kinn."
quis custodiet ipsos custode by concernedlily
(8,600 words) Porsche being on dangerous missions and Kinn discovering he has Feelings About That. Missing scenes and Post Ep 14.
Wing of a Butterfly by Kalere
(320,000 words) Some years before the canon storyline, two young men have a random encounter at a bar. Their friendship changes everything. // The epic Porsche & Vegas friendship fic.
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