#kp fics

[atlasshrugd]

Chapter 10 of WHITE DAYS is out!

He sleeps and dreams of Kinn, but sweet, shallow dreams—of Kinn’s hair on his pillow, of setting free all the fish that they had caught back into the sea.

[Read here]

[nippelitietoturva]

I do often think about how, when it comes to mafia husbands, one took his role out of duty and so his brothers wouldn't have to and one ended up in this life against his will and wonder if, given the chance, they'd choose differently, since in a world of fiction, there's always other options (ahem mr. Tang Yi & co)

- So what I'm saying is that I need a fic where daddy Korn finally drops dead and my boys finally choose the peace they deserve

[lonely-tea-drinker]

An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works

“I told Khun Kinn I would handle the consequences of today,” Chan started, and Big bowed his head concededly. He looked like he had mentally accepted a physical punishment, and his body language told Chan he was bracing himself. Chan crossed the room and rifled through his chest of drawers, finding what he was after quickly enough. He threw them at Big, and Big flinched even as he caught the sweatpants and t-shirt Chan had thrown at him. “Sir…?” Big’s voice trailed off in confusion. “So that’s what I’m doing,” Chan continued, as if Big hadn’t spoken. “You are going to shower and have dinner, and then you’re going to sleep in my room tonight.”

Chan notices something about Big has changed since the warehouse incident with Tawan, and he's prepared to do whatever it takes to get to the bottom of it. Even if Kinn refuses to see it, even if Big insists he's fine.

I woke up this morning with the mental picture of Big staring at Chan in confusion as Chan chucks some pants at his head and uh... here we are, many many words later.

This is only the first chapter, but the second chapter is written, I just need to edit it and possibly redo the ending as it isn't quite vibing with me at the moment.

I hope to meet more Chanbig shippers by sending this out into the Tumblr void because at this point I've read every single fic on AO3 and I need Chanbig to keep me going,,, please

[ahdriking]

During my Nightmares

🌙Kinn x Porsche 🌙Explicit | 14.2k | Part 3/4 🌙Somno, gun kink (read the tags)

Summary:

“I’m a light sleeper,” Kinn admits. There is an unsettling glimmer in his eyes. “It doesn’t take much to wake me up.” Slowly, Porsche smiles at Kinn, something vaguely nasty. It feels like his heart is in his throat as he opens his mouth and says; “I know.” He cocks his head. “So am I.”

AKA Porsche pushes Kinn to the edges of his self-control. He might not like what he finds.

READ HERE

[lefemmerougewriter]

"Ashi and Ms. [Plum] Bisessuale have made valid points...about Israel’s criminal liability. Whether a case is brought before the ICC or not, is the business of the ICC. I trust their judgment on this. Ms. [Tanya] Bendersnoot mentioned earlier about the temporary ceasefire. That truce was only a waiting time for soldiers. As the U.N. General Assembly called for, in Resolution ES-10/21, there has to be a permanent ceasefire and end to the bloodshed. It is shameful that the U.S. delegation vetoed a Security Council resolution calling for a ceasefire and immediate release of hostages. Resolution 377 of the U.N. General Assembly must be invoked once more to get around this cowardly veto."- Britina

From my AO3 fic entitled "From Angry Zionists to International Popstars: Meet the Mess Discusses the Gaza War"

[atlasshrugd]

↳ Chapter 19 of WHITE NIGHTS is up! (Read here on ao3)

At that moment, Kinn feels as if his heart is going to explode. His mouth dries up with words he’s been waiting all year to say yet can’t seem to say when it matters. His brows draw together, frustrated. Porsche seems to know, for he presses a thumb to the crease there, smoothing it away. “Don’t,” he whispers, softly. “Don’t.”

[lonely-tea-drinker]

An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works

“Kh—what can I get for you, sir?” Pete tried for ignorance, ignoring his heart hammering in his chest as he rounded the counter. What was Vegas doing here? He was supposed to be in Chiang Mai on business, Kinn had specifically verified the man would be far away from Bangkok before placing Pete here undercover. Had their mission been discovered? Pete had been working there for just over three weeks now, gathering as much information as he could from the shop, which in reality was just a front for one of the minor family’s money laundering locations. But Vegas shouldn’t have been back from Chiang Mai for another week—had something gone wrong? “A black coffee, please.” Vegas’s smooth voice cut through Pete’s whirling thoughts. Pete put his best customer service smile on, hoping to any god listening that Vegas didn’t recognize him; after all, they hadn’t seen each other since the last time Vegas had visited the main family, which was almost two years ago. And Vegas always narrowed his eyes like that, no matter who he was talking to… right?

We're back lads! Featuring my attempt at a Vegaspete coffee shop AU, where they both get to be giant nerds about science fiction! Written with love by someone who is also a nerd about science fiction.

I'd argue this could be canon compliant, if you imagine the mission taking place maybe a year or so before Porsche joins the family (until the ending of the fic but we'll pretend that bit doesn't exist for my own sanity).

Maybe this will stay a one shot, maybe it won't! Who knows! Will the rats on the treadmill in my brain finally form a cohesive plotline? It's more likely than you think!

If anyone has any thoughts whatsoever about this please let me know... I'd really love some fandom friends since I'm kind of writing into the void at the moment!

[atlasshrugd]

↳ Chapter 18 of WHITE NIGHTS is up! Read on ao3.

“Here, you submit, like Christ on the cross,” comes the voice again. “Tell me, Kinn. Will your death bring my forgiveness?” The air shoots in and out of his nose in hot bursts, as if rioting against being inside him. Kinn tries to lift his head, but it is as if it were held up by a single string, one unequipped to handle such weight. His vision is almost completely black. “It will bring your end,” he spits.