#my imm mates

[antique-forvalaka]

yeeting some memes

oh wow he has a cooking channel?! (also pls pls pls zoom in, this took so fucking long. disclaimer: i dont speak thai...)

Sponsored by:

This meme collection, as all my others, is sponsored by some weird nut company or smth. Wolong nuts, super tasty etc:

Find more of this insanity here:

more kp memes: 1 // 2 // 3 //

[moerusai]

@luckydragon10 It's our Friendniversary! 🥳

Thank you Nemi, for adopting me and continuing to be one of the most wonderful and supportive friends I have in the KinnPorsche fandom.

Our first collaboration, Glitter & Gold also turned 8 months old today. Thank you to everyone who has watched, rewatched, liked, shared, and commented! We appreciate every single one of you 🥰.

How it started:

How it's going:

[story-told]

The Devil's Contract

Or: Porsche's brush with and buildup to power

[Kinn] [Korn] [Vegas]

Porsche, in my not-so-humble opinion, is the most interesting case study on the interplay on both, the truly empowering as well as the weakening aspects of power and influence.

How many of us among the Kinnporsche fandom have watched Porsche's story unfold and felt a sense of kinship? We've felt the pain and fear associated with debt, we've winced with empathy at the humiliation of a minimum wage employee whose boss went out of their way to punish or humiliate, most of us have felt that pinching lack of safety and the ever-present uncertainty. And that's the point. Porsche is us. In Porsche, there is a reflection of the Rousseauian Noble Savage being crushed under the weight of the glittering elite (Mirrors, anyone?).

Everything about him is supposed to make us relate to him. His scuffed sneakers, in particular are a nice touch (idek, man- political art experts have a weird Thing about boots and footwear), not to mention his well-loved clothing.

His way of addressing people around him is also indicative of a lack of true power in his social circles, because he either uses the lower register (gu/mueng) or sometimes drops the polite particle (khrub) entirely. Why? Because everybody around is just as much a slave to the powers that be as him. As an Asian who belongs to the lower middle class myself (which, by the way, western and Asian Middle classes are so different it blows my mind), I can guarantee you that I rarely use the higher register in my native language unless I'm talking to somebody who is explicitly labelled an authority figure. Also interesting is his missing parental figures, who (completely unwittingly, I'm sure) forego handing him the power in favour of his uncle, while still dumping a metric fuckton of ouchies on his very young shoulders- a recurring motif in the Rags To Riches storylines (see: Aladdin, A Cinderella Story).

Now look at the man properly. Notice how he's always at the business end of some representation of moral bankruptcy? Parentification? Check. Loan sharks and insurmountable debt? Check. Minimum wage jobs? Check. Commodification? Check. Betrayal from those who are supposed to bring stability and a guiding force to his life? Check. Victim to circumstance? Check, check and check. Pre-mafia era Porsche's life is a reel-life manifestation of the State of Nature, where there is no law, no goodness- only "Brutish force and suspicion" (The Leviathan- Hobbes. Watch out for this one, lads; it's going to make a guest appearance in another post). He has nobody to rely on, he's only working to get himself and his brother (his uncle can fucking choke on some dirty gym shorts) through life, heck, he has all of two friends who know his reality (Mirror, mirror on the wall- see: Kinn and his besties).

But, if I'm writing this, then something obviously changes; Porsche begins amassing some power, somewhere. So what gives?

Let me (re)introduce you to the social contract theory. Here, the masses sign away their limitless freedoms in exchange for order and protection. In Kinnporsche, Porsche signs away his life so that his brother's is stable, so that he's looked after (because let's face it, the raw chaos of the State of Nature would eat my sweetheart Porschay whole). Effectively, he's bartered away his freedom, his individuality, even his life- and in exchange, the Theerapanyakuls give him money, protection, direction and order. Sound like a raw deal? Well that's because it is! But that's the deal we're all party to, simply by virtue of being born into a State-governed society; and that's the deal Porsche knows he has no choice but to make.

But. And that's a big but. Porsche is potentially more powerful than everyone save Kinn and Korn. Why?

Personal Autonomy: Because of the nature of the contract, he has agreed to accept the Mafia fam as the ruling force of his own volition. He could not be forced to join the bodyguard squad, he had to choose to be there. This is important for two reasons. One, not even Kinn has the kind of autonomy to make his own choices free of external influence. Two, if Porsche stops being agreeable(?) and withdraws from the contract, the Theerapanyakuls stand to lose their power, not in the least because of the perceived lack of authority over their own employees (revolution theory by Hobbes, anyone?). Porsche holds sway over both, Kinn and Tankhun, he knows their personal weaknesses and routines. That is power over them. That is power over the heir and the oldest.

His own Charm and Charisma: Right from the first episode, we see that Porsche finds it easy to make friends. All he needs to do is flash his little smile and people just flock to him. This means that, be it the staff at Yok's bar or (a few of) the bodyguards at the Theerapanyakul mansion, he draws people to him just because he is who he is. And personal allegiance is always more stable than allegiance born out of the influence of authority.

His "uncorruptability": Thus far, Porsche has only made one decision out of a want for money- becoming Kinn's bodyguard. But otherwise, he isn't easily impressed. Flashy cash? Keep it to yourself. Intimidation? Up yours. Power? In his world, useless. And so, as far as the mafia world goes, Porsche is unpredictable, immovable- that makes for fear, which inturn gives him more power.

And finally, what makes him just as powerful as Kinn is (drum roll, please) Kinn himself.

This is Kinn marking Porsche with personal favour. Frequently, with impunity- regardless of the stupid shit Porsche can bring upon himself. From the very beginning, Kinn lets Porsche address him pretty rudely, entirely free of consequence. He shows Porsche the cards he's been playing so close to his chest all this time. He seeks Porsche out, by himself, without his bodyguards in tow. He is freefalling into love with Porsche. He trusts Porsche.

He's made Porsche the Chosen One. His queen, his vizier, his consigliere, his confidante. That, my dear friends is power at it's purest. When it comes to you of its own will.

In conclusion, Porsche is Rousseau's Noble Savage. He suffers, he fights and he gets by on his own strength. He's his own person, willingly choosing to make the elite powerful. But what giveth can taketh away. He gave the Theerapanyakul household power over him, but he can tear their empire down just by withdrawing his favour. Porsche, in essence, is power.

[luckydragon10]

KinnPorsche Ep04 Lines of Power

Hello, I’m back to call out lines of power, staging, and framing in the latest episode of KinnPorsche.

There's so much. I can't possibly call it all out, but I'll hit biggest highlights, now with actual IMM logo watermark. Isn't Philippe adorable? 🦩

More of LoP: [Trailer], [Ep01], [Ep02], [Ep03], [Ep05]

📢 ALERT ALERT! Parallel found!!! Remember the scene from Ep 03 where I pointed out the teensy tiny line of power above Porsche's head during the Mes beating?

This damn shot is exactly the same with the tiny line above Kinn's head, the darker half of the screen to the left, and the lighter elements on the right. *eyetwitch* This show, tryin' ta kill me.

(I have a feeling I'll start finding more parallels like this. Maybe later on I'll have enough to pull them together in a special post.)

*mutter mutter* damn mirrors *mutter mutter*

You know? I really don't care about the lines dividing the screen in top and bottom (heh, top and bottom, heh), but the POOL reflections, unf. This show has an obsession with mirrors, and it's absolutely nucking futz.

The symbolism is kind of off the charts. Just...think about inversions, and reversals, and opposites, and hidden selves and...okay, you get the idea.

That beautiful, beautiful line between them, dividing them. In this case, it's a clear separation of dislike.

There's a LOT of this sort of vertical dividing in this episode.

Speaking of which...

Credit to @moerusai for help with this one. I was scanning and scanning. I knew there had to be something in the Porchay Kim scene but kept missing it because it's subtle and brief. So I called in mo for backup.

See the speaker? The edge of the speaker creates a softer, subtler dividing line between the two young'uns.

I'm so soft for these two. You have no idea. 😭😭😭 C'mon, darlings, you can break down that measly little barrier!

And then there are these assholes...

Dividing line. Diving line. FUCKING DIVIDING LINE. Shot after shot, WTF. Okay, okay already, we get it. They are NOT on the same wavelength yet, geez.

These two have issues, and it's everyone's problem, including theirs.

ALSO: In the first and third shots in this set, Porsche has a lighter background. And in ALL of the shots, Kinn has a darker background, especially that last shot. This is a reversal from Episode 3 of the scene where Kinn tended Porsche's gunshot wound, when Porsche had the dark background and Kinn had the light background.

*mutter mutter* mirrors and reversals and opposites and foils *mutter*

Kim, I'm glad they let you out of the cage for a little bit this episode, but I'm sad that they immediately put you back in it. Oof, look at those railing posts acting like prison bars!

This dude is so trapped by circumstances. Kim, darling, it's gonna be okay (I hope).

I try to keep the pics mostly in order of appearance in the episode, but the 10-pic limit for posts is real, so here we are.

I put these together as examples of Kinn and His Fucking Throne Habit. He's SO good at it. Everywhere he sits, he turns it into a throne.

In the sauna, he's in the higher position, in the best lighting, and that line on the left in particular is pointing right at him.

At the auction, will you look at the curved shelf behind him? That damn shelf points right at him and helps draw attention to him, as do the highlights on the top of the blue bench, plus he's very center in the frame. Even in this busy shot, he claims visual focus (while competing with the glow lamp of doom).

I desperately need to see this throne thing reversed in the future, to see a moment when he ISN'T in the king's seat. It's the only way I will feel peace and balance.

In contrast...

Everybody puts Vegas in the corner. Because he deserves it, the sleazebag. (But he's very good at being a sleazebag, and we appreciate that. Thank you for being our villain so we can hate you.)

This framing is shit. The dude in the foreground and the lamp weaken Vegas's attempt to sprawl with his arms and take up space. Nothing is pointing to him, and the foreground dude's mysterious floating head is much more interesting than Vegas. Plus, he just looks shrunken.

He's small. He's powerless. And he haaaates it, precious.

RESCUE MISSION!

These shots have such a feeling of tightness and claustrophobia to them. They're crowded, with tall verticals that make the characters seem hemmed in, trapped. And in the third shot, the closeness of the characters and the camera add to that sensation. All of this framing adds to the anxiety and tension of the moment.

///

Sorry, no smexy scenes this round, but I might do a special LoP meta this week for something I've been tracking that also appears in the smexy scene.

In the meantime, here, have a bonus:

Charmed. He has been fucking charmed. Is there something about the Kittiswasd bloodline that's like catnip for the Theerapanyakul brothers?

Kim's line of power is his stupidly happy smile.

///

Other KP LoP breakdowns: [Trailer], [Ep01], [Ep02], [Ep03], [Ep05]

And here’s color theory from my friend @antique-forvalaka: [Hidden Messages], [Kinn + Porsche], and see the ends of posts for more color theory links.

We have all sorts of meta going on, from costuming from @chaoselmo to vocal analysis from @yeetlegay and even good humor with product placement from @biochemjess. Always more coming from the IMM!

[fanghuas]

Knife goals, life goals, wife goals?

I've been thinking about the lucky knife story, Korn's relationship with his family, and duality.

Essentially, it's a cautionary tale about losing your edge, pun intended. A knife (unlike Kinn's lucky gun) is a neutrally charged tool fit for different purposes. What is done with it falls to the wielder. And Papa Korn tried to reconcile the violence of their world, that demands for a sharp blade always at the ready, with his own desire to be caring and nurturing, to cut apples for his wife. He tried to be both at once. By doing that, he rendered the knife useless; at the end it wasn't any good for either purpose. The implication to me seems to be that he should have known, or at least that he wants Kinn to understand so that he doesn't repeat his mistakes, that you can't use the same tool to perform violence and loving acts.

It begs the question, what point is he making by saying this while cutting an apple for Kinn? It could be that he's making an exception, that he's showing how even knowing the danger he will continue to care for his son. That there are people for whom you are allowed to weaken yourself. But Porsche isn't that. Porsche isn't family. Even though Korn draws the comparison to Kinn's mother himself, Porsche in his eyes is an outsider. Porsche is not someone for whom you can do these things, because Porsche himself is a tool to be used. His purpose is to make Kinn stronger, not weaker.

But more than that, I think Korn believes that having learned the lesson he's imparting on Kinn, he himself can maintain a duality which Kinn isn't allowed. We saw very clearly with Kinn in episode 6 how many supressed facets of his personality shine through when he's removed from the mafia environment. Kinn is not allowed to retain that back in "the real world". He must go back to his old self. It's not even up for debate whether he's capable of balancing both. Does Korn know that the role Kinn puts on as a boss isn't his most authentic self? Or does he think that's who Kinn really is, and that Porsche is a distraction making him think that he could be different? Does it matter what Kinn is or isn't deep down, when what he needs to be is dictated so clearly? Kinn must choose except that it isn't a choice; he must embrace the side of himself that Korn wants him to be, and let go of everything else.

But Korn doesn't take his own advice. He's still cutting apples. He's older and wiser and he knows the dangers, and he thinks he can manage it. I think Korn, consciously or not, thinks that he is capable of compartmentalizing in a way that Kinn isn't: that he can keep his apple knives and his business knives separate, and so he can do both. He can be nice Papa Korn and Khun Korn at the same time. But that only works as long as Khun Korn isn't challenged. By the way the mafia is structured like a family, let alone the fact that his heir is his son, those two are bound to get intermingled. As soon as Kinn stops toeing the line, Khun Korn wins out. He's giving the Papa Korn performance, he's cutting Kinn's apple like a good and caring father, but it falls flat. Under the surface there's only Khun Korn making a point.

I wonder if there will ever be a genuine struggle between Korn the father and Korn the boss. The more Kinn branches out from his established role, the harder it's going to be to maintain this illusion of a harmonous father-son relationship. Will the boss keep winning out and bring him into real conflict with Kinn, or will he come to a point where he will make a decision as a father alone? Will he find the equilibrium he thinks he has? Will Kinn reject his "old self" entirely, or will he find a way to reconcile the Kinn lost in the woods and the mafia heir Kinn? Will he succeed where Korn might fail, in balancing the two?

[minisculecosmos]

It’s never just wind, sunshine- sometimes it’s the lessons we learned along the way

A close meta analysis of episode 6 of KinnPorsche, as compared to nature, its symbols, and what it means for the future of the show.

We all know KinnPorsche the Series is far from your regular BL. No hate on any other shows, we all adore them I’m sure, but the effort put into the cinematography, staging, editing, symbolism, and more, has made this story one of actual substance, for people like us crazy meta people on tumblr to meta-post about.

I read this book back in my AP Literature class in high school, which at the time I vehemently disliked. However, I will be using a couple facets of the book to analyze episode 6 of KinnPorsche, namely– “It’s More Than Just Rain or Snow”, and a couple other chapters I, with many groans of my senior year self, would be yelling at me now for using in an affirmative matter. Sorry, me. But with an episode entirely in the wild, I have to talk about common nature symbols, and what they mean in the context of the show.

First off, I realize not everything is intentional and that some of this is just correlation. But that’s the joy of analysis– pointing out what the creators don’t realize they’re saying. And in that, finding meaning between the lines– or rather, scenes.

So the guards are looking for the wayward couple. Enter stage right, we see our darling main couple, emotions flared high, stuck together, and so far? Hating it. 

Whether it was simply due to the time of filming or on purpose, the environment around these two matches their emotions perfectly. Their emotions are turbulent. These two were forced together after a week of lack of real communication, on completely uneven footing. Any former balance of power they had no longer matters here– it is the wild, after all. The wind blowing powerfully through the trees is a representation of literal turbulence, their resentment and undiscussed feelings for each other gone unmentioned given a literal image. I thought it was quite fitting.

So they’re fighting, and eventually bam, they fall into water. An oasis, a source of renewal in the middle of their anger. Not that it’s not undeserved– I got so much joy from seeing Porsche finally get to rant to Kinn. He got to finally be mad. He needed that, absolutely. He, and the audience as an extension of Porsche, needed that catharsis, relief after an act of stress and so little relief. This episode is catharsis.

Still, they fall into the water. And instead of more yelling, they emerge from their little fall with smiles, in an embrace. It’s after they fall in that we see them hold hands for the first time this episode. 

Pulling another chapter title from the book here– “If She Comes Up, It’s Baptism”. The water they literally fall into is a mini baptism, a little breath of life into these two. They go in furious and upset, and come out restored and joyful. Yes, the water is something they desperately needed anyway from a purely physical standpoint, but looking at the scene from this viewpoint almost gives it a feeling of  holiness. And it’s deserved, after their pain, separation and consequent reunion. They’re starting to go under, but this time, together. 

Of course, their struggles are far from over. They’re fighting an uphill battle, getting better yet there’s still a giant chasm between them that demands to be crossed, but it’ll take effort to get there. And all this is set against a landscape of literal dust and heat, another embodiment of the characters’ own feelings and thoughts. 

Night falls. Things are put back into the dark, Porsche and Kinn are not yet together as they fall asleep for the first time. 

But the interrupting factor here? There’s a fire. A fire that symbolizes life, light, a lamp for them to be guided by. And it’s no random fire; they started the fire together. It’s no coincidence that with this fire, they wake up together, co-reliant, but content.

Then comes our beloved waterfall scene. The water is cold, unrelenting, powerful– and what happens while they’re standing against the current of the waterfall, the summation of all the forces against them? They kiss. 

Yes, it’s brief, but the attraction is there. Look at how Kinn places his hand on Porsche’s neck not once, but twice. Yes, Kinn pulled away, but they kissed, and it was consensual, a choice, and it means oh-so-much.

It’s a second little baptism, further reuniting these two. The first, they walked away holding hands. The second, they share their first sober kiss. And instead of this happening in a small pond, a calm puddle, their first oasis– it happens in a storm of water, frigid, unpleasant, but for the first time they choose each other. They choose to fight against whatever may come their way, together.

It’s a leap of faith for these two. A freefall, if you will. Oh– what’s that? They do free fall in this episode? Hang on, I gotta write about this.

“Now I’m ready to freefall” is a lyric that I’m sure is familiar to all of us. And I honestly believe it’s meant to represent this scene. Pulled together, hand in unlovable hand, they try to escape. Having heard the first sounds of what sounds like help, they try to run toward safety, yet away from freedom. And they fall, into what could literally be described as, between a rock and a hard place, but they do it together. 

Here, they face the heart-wrenching rock paper scissors issue. All humor and idiocy aside, this scene matters so much. It shows sacrifice from Porsche, something that has been built up since episode 1– a willingness to bend to Kinn. In a move the Porsche of episode 2 would never forgive himself for, Porsche volunteers to cut off his own hand in an immense display of humility, sacrifice, and most importantly, love. 

Their rock and hard place is this final decision, and this great forgiveness, an acknowledgment of their mistakes, and the willingness to move forward. They resolve this issue, and the handcuffs are unlocked. They are freed from the terrible bond symbolized by the handcuffs that held them together for the last few days, an imprisonment no longer true to them. They are freed. Instead, they are now bound by real, emotional, and true ties that will carry them out of the cave, out of the dark night into their new day. 

Or so we all wished.

Night falls once more, this time noticeably lacking any fire. There is no light, no life. This scene is designed to look sad, and it did its job. The shot is dark, bleak, there are sharp edges everywhere, even the scenery is unforgiving, a representation of their inescapable circumstance. The night here does not represent renewal, not in any good sense. 

Night now represents death, a conclusion, old age, a final season. To Kinn, that night was the end for him. In telling Porsche to leave, giving him a way out no matter the cost to himself. Making this decision broke him. It killed Kinn more than any bullet would– because to Kinn, Porsche was his ticket out, and in sacrificing his ability to be with Porsche, he thought he was surrendering any right he had left to any romantic love in the future. When Porsche left, both before and after the kiss, Kinn was likely thinking that he would be single forever; alone, hardened, jaded, and without his Porsche. 

It’s why when the bullet comes for Kinn, he is so ready to sacrifice himself for Porsche. I don’t think the move was so much love oriented, to protect his current lover, because while the two are now somewhat at that stage, Kinn here is only thinking of all that Porsche is. Porsche, who still has a chance at being good, that Kinn believes he could never have or be, ever. Kinn goes down, still protecting Porsche with his body, having surrendered to the other, just as the other had surrendered to him. 

This episode embodies the spirit of any classical writing, in my opinion. There’s lessons here, symbolism, and it marks the end of the first true arc in KinnPorsche.

I think after this, we’ll see Porsche having truly accepted his role as bodyguard, and his standing with Kinn officially altered. Yes, there will be resentment because he too sacrificed his freedom, with choosing Kinn in the end, but he knows more now. Yes, it won’t be sunshine and daisies from here on out; they aren’t perfect yet. There’s still so much they have to learn and understand about each other before they can be the best mafia murder husbands. But still– they agreed on no more doubts. Not between them, anymore. 

I have this feeling it’ll come later in the series, but analytically, that trailer scene of Porsche meditating underwater (i.e. becoming the baddest-ass bodyguard out there), would fit so poetically perfectly in episode seven. But I guess we’ll see.

Anyway...

If you got this far, thank you so much for reading. I hope we can all feel just that much more emotionally deranged after this episode. For all the hurt and pain it gave us, it’s also incredibly comforting to watch play out.

While we wait for next week, please check out some similar posts from my dearest IMM friends:

Check out @LuckyDragon10 Nemi’s Lines of Power Series, and some KP fanfic. Or @antique-forvalaka with wonderful Color Theory Posts, and a fic here and various memes to keep us all entertained. @moerusai, our resident gif extraordinaire, and @fractured-ice, also with some incredible fic. Of course, shoutout to the other best mutuals ever, @chaoselmo with incredible costume analysis, and @biochemjess. 

Check out my blog @minisculecosmos for more posts like this: A Bit on Pete, and When Things Blur, and my own fic self-promo, of course.

Until the next. 

Go stream Jeff Satur.

[rainbowcolored7]

So I was up far too late last night scrolling tumblr as one does and having intense feelings about KP as is my constant state of being for the past few months. The same few thoughts kept pressing into my brain, and I'm sure someone has said them already, but I'm gonna put it out there anyway for my own [in]sanity.

I cannot fathom, wrap my head around, how in all his seemingly infinite mafia wisdom that Korn still believes Kinn is capable of carving out his own heart to properly take the throne. He knows his sons well, he knows their strengths and their weaknesses. His intentions behind hiring Porsche aside, because the mysteries surrounding this choice have yet to be revealed, how could he see this chaotic caring loving ball of man and give him to Kinn knowing Kinn's deepest desire is to be loved genuinely without restraint. How could he see how big his son's heart is and not see how easily Kinn would fall for someone like Porsche. How could he expect him to not fall in love with a man who won't take bribes, who loves and expresses so fully and openly, who is sooo Porsche. Porsche, who embodies everything Kinn wants but cannot have. Korn you're so stupid! And is it willfull ignorance? Or did he give Porsche to Kinn with the the intention of testing him, purposefully jabbing at his soft vulnerable parts to see if he would make the "correct" choice or if he would follow his heart again and "fail" the family. I believe he could be so cruel as to do so, but did he? Or is he actually just that blind to Kinn's desires for himself?

My second thought was about Kinn, carrying his heart so close after Tawan, locking it away, thinking it's a weakness to love and be loved, and how Porsche is teaching him how it isn't a weakness but a strength and a balance must be found in order to succeed as a mafia leader and lover simultaneously.

And Porsche, oh how this whole idea has been making me feel feral, how he has been transforming like a pheonix rising from the ashes of his past self, the person he had to leave behind to protect himself and the man he's fallen deeply irrevocably in love with. Only it clearly still isn't enough yet. I keep thinking, how much of himself is he going to have to burn away to rebirth the new Porsche who is capable and 100% willing to be the Queen to Kinn's King of the mafia world? We're beginning to see it. We saw it in ep.7 when he wielded Kinn's gun easily with no apparent remorse. I really truly got a great glimpse of the ruthless leader he has the potential to be, standing equally by Kinn's side in ep.10.

Gif by @heureum

I think, no, I am certain that what is holding Porsche back now from fully rising free and burning from his ashes are his fears of losing that part of himself that loves so intensely, who wears his heart on his sleeve, who mirrors people's behaviors and actions, who still has an innocent naivety, who doesn't actually want to hurt people who are like the person he was before he became Kinn's bodyguard. I look at ep.3 Porsche and I ache for him, but in order to stay by Kinn's side he can't go back, he can never be that person again. Then, of course, there is Chay. Who at the moment is feeling very betrayed and hurt by Porsche lying to him. Who knows what it's like to be held under the boot of the mafia. I can only imagine how awful he must be feeling knowing Porsche is now wearing those same shoes. Oh Chay, it's about to get so much worse for you baby boy.

The thing is, Porsche can still be a lover, can still care. Kinn can still be cold, can still be ruthless. They just need to *slaps and squishes hands together* osmosis those things from each other. Porsche needs to adopt Kinn's calculated approach and closed sleeve behavior. Kinn needs to adopt Porsche's openness to love and trust. Then they both need to take those attributes and work as a team to conquer the mafia world and build an empire of their own. Together, standing side by side, with the world bowing at their feet. (If they could actually start having conversations about this stuff that would be super helpful lol)

[tiedankelstotheocean]

KP stans.

I just finished re-watching the episode with my friend. She thinks Kinn is the one who let Vegas into the house, to observe what he'll do with Tawan in the house.

Because like how do they keep letting this man wander inside the main families house? Kinn and Korn are aware he's there which gives my theory more legs; Kinn has a plan!

[chelseachilly]

i watched it begin again

pairing: reader x ben chilwell summary: ever since your last relationship ended badly, you've lost all hope in love. until your best friend convinces you to go on a date with her bf's friend ben warnings: none word count: 2.7k

author's note: this is just a short little something inspired by one of my favourite songs, begin again by taylor swift ❤️ and bc the thought of a first date with ben is just so perfect to me 😌

-

As you sit in an Uber on your way to Marylebone, fidgeting nervously with the hem of your dress, you can’t help but wonder how you got here.

It took a lot of convincing - to be precise, three glasses of white wine, some chocolates, and the agreement to watch your favourite movie on Netflix that night - for your best friend to convince you to go on this date last weekend.

Mia, one of your closest friends since you were kids, knows better than anyone how reluctant you’ve been to return to dating life ever since your last relationship ended catastrophically. Your last boyfriend, Jack, who had also been your first serious one, had completely broken your heart eight months ago. 

After two years together, just when you were beginning to think about taking the next step and move in with him, you caught him cheating on you with in his flat with a coworker he had sworn was just a friend. You were so completely devastated by this betrayal and the sudden end of your relationship that you haven’t so much as downloaded a dating app or talked to a guy at a bar since. 

Your friends have been loving and supportive of your decision to stay single for a while, but ever since Mia started seeing her boyfriend Harvey a couple months ago, she’s been pestering you to meet one of his friends. She’s told you several times that his mate Ben is perfect for you, but based on the little you know, you’re not sure you agree.

She showed you his Instagram a while back and, although there’s no questioning that he’s quite attractive, you don’t know if a fancy, famous footballer is the right choice to ease back into dating. You doubted that you would be his type, either, but when Mia insisted that Ben was interested and free this Thursday, you finally gave in. 

You figured the worst that could happen is you realize you’re not ready to date again or that there isn’t a connection between you and you wasted one evening having dinner with a stranger. 

But now that you’re sitting in this car, about to go on an actual date for the first time in forever, you feel like you might explode with nerves. You don’t remember how to flirt, how to tell someone about yourself, how to act cool and composed. You could be totally awkward and weird and he might never want to see you again. 

Or, even worse, you could fall madly in love, only for him to end up breaking your heart. That’s the far more terrifying possibility.

You have half a mind to ask the driver to turn around and take you back home, but you force yourself not to. Mia would be upset with you, and you figure you owe it to her not to stand up Harvey’s friend for no real reason.

Your hands are shaking slightly as you get out of the car and enter the restaurant. You consider waiting outside for him, as you’re a couple minutes early and he probably isn’t here yet, but it’s freezing out right now, so you decide to head in. 

“Hi, do you have a reservation?” the hostess asks you, and you nod a bit shyly. 

“Yes, it should be under Chilwell? But I’m early, so I can just wait-"

“Right this way,” she says with a smile, motioning for you to follow her. 

It’s a small restaurant, with no more than ten tables, most of them occupied. There are candles burning and soft music is playing, the atmosphere somehow romantic without being cheesy. 

You feel slightly more at ease knowing it’s not some insanely posh place like you were half-expecting it to be, and then you lock eyes with your date. 

Your stomach erupts with butterflies - something you also weren’t quite expecting - when you see him, immediately realizing that the photos Mia showed you did not do him justice. 

He’s gorgeous, with bright blue eyes that light up when he sees you and wavy dark hair that you could spend hours running your fingers through. He quickly stands up as you approach the table, smoothing out any wrinkles in the dark blue trousers he’s wearing, paired with a black knit jumper and Nikes.

You can hear Mia’s words echoing in your ears: “Harv swears he has a heart of gold. He had a bad breakup last year too, so you’re in the same boat. Just give him a chance and see how it goes!”

“Y/N!” Ben smiles, greeting you with a quick hug. “It’s good to finally meet you, Mia’s talked a lot about you.” 

Oh, god, you think to yourself, hoping your best friend hasn’t overhyped you too much. 

“Good to meet you too,” you say, returning his smile. “And that sounds like Mia, she talks a lot about everything.” 

“That’s probably why she and Harv work so well,” he quips.

Ben is still standing quite close to you, and it takes you a moment to realize he’s pulled out your chair for you to sit down. You’re not sure if a guy has ever done that for you before. 

You oblige, taking the seat and letting him push you in before sitting across from you. Something your mum told you when you were a kid about how a gentleman behaves comes to mind, but you try not to let your mind wander too much. It’s been about twenty seconds, there’s plenty of time for him to prove right your current theory that all men are trash. 

“Thanks for choosing the restaurant,” you say to fill the silence, glancing around you. “It’s really nice.”

“Yeah, I come here a lot,” Ben replies. “It’s low key, which I kinda like. Mostly old people and stuff. I was actually just starting to worry you’d think it was a bit lame for a first date.”

“I don’t,” you say quickly. “I’m good with low key.”

Ben smiles at you, and you’re not sure if it’s him or the candlelight making your face feel warmer all of a sudden. 

“You look gorgeous, by the way,” he says a bit shyly. “I should’ve said that sooner.”

“Oh, thanks.” You’re certain now that you’re blushing. “So do you. I mean, you look very - not that you’re not gorgeous, men can totally be-"

You meet Ben’s gaze, your cheeks flushed with embarrassment, but you find no judgement in his eyes - he’s smiling at you even more now, the kind of smile that makes you feel completely at ease.

You just met this man, and yet you feel completely safe with him. 

“Sorry, this is my first date in nearly three years, I’m a bit rusty,” you admit. 

“No, you’re good,” Ben says gently. “Mia mentioned you recently got out of a long-term relationship.”

“Not that recently anymore, but…yeah,” you say. “It was a bit of a shit show. We were together two years and then one day I walked in on him sleeping with another girl. Not exactly an amicable breakup.”

Ben’s face falls. “Oh, I’m so sorry, Y/N. What a piece of shit.”

“Yeah, he really was,” you say, nodding your head. “Obviously, it was for the best, though. Better I find out he’s a lying cheater now than ten years down the line, right?”

“Definitely,” Ben agrees, “you want something to drink?”

After a couple glasses of wine and the most amazing pasta dish you’ve ever had in your life, you feel like you’ve known the person sitting across from you for years, rather than hours. 

You talk about everything - your job, his football career, your families, your friends. You talk about your ex a bit more, and then he opens up about his. There’s a nagging feeling in the back of your mind that you’re sharing too much with him, but a far stronger one telling you that this is right. It’s a feeling you’ve never had before, not with your ex and not on any other first date you had before him.

You don’t even realize how much time has passed until you look around and realize you’re the only ones left in the restaurant.

“They’re probably closing soon,” you comment, though you don’t really want to leave. 

“Twenty minutes ago, actually,” Ben says. You raise an eyebrow, and he scratches the back of his head and smiles. “Uh, I may have offered the owner a hundred quid to stay open a bit longer while you were in the loo. I’ve been having a really nice time talking to you.”

Your heart thumps in your chest, your eyes nearly beginning to water at the gesture. 

“I’ve been having a really nice time with you, too.”

After you finish your drinks and Ben pays the cheque, not even hearing out your offer to split it, you head back out into the chilly London night together. 

“I’m just gonna call an Uber,” you say, pulling out your phone with one hand and rubbing your shoulders for warmth with the other. 

“I’m parked right around the corner, I’d be happy to drive you?” Ben offers. 

You remember that he declined a second glass of wine earlier, stating that he was driving - a stark contrast from your ex, who would frequently call you to pick him and his car up from the pub after he got too pissed to drive home. 

“You really don’t have to, it’s pretty late,” you protest.

“It’s no big deal,” Ben assures you. He then shrugs off his jacket and wraps it around your shoulders without hesitation, putting an end to your clearly obvious shivering. “So you don’t freeze on the way to the car.”

You smile gratefully, unable to articulate with words how much this simple gesture means to you. 

As you walk side by side, you can’t help but admire the Christmas lights already strung up on the shops and houses you pass. 

“I love this time of year,” you say. “It’s so magical.”

“Same here,” Ben smiles. “Christmas in London is the best. Do you have any plans for the holidays this year?” 

Your brain briefly flits back to the ski trip you and your ex went on the past two years right before Christmas. A week ago, you were dreading that time coming, knowing you would end up being nostalgic for those trips and start missing him again, but somehow, that feeling seems to have vanished. 

“Just going home to see my parents,” you say. “You?”

“Yeah, we always have games around Christmas, so my family usually comes to mine and we do a big dinner on Christmas Day, then they come see me play on Boxing Day,” Ben tells you. “After the game, we always go get hot chocolate and go ice skating. My little sister suggested it when she was a bit younger, and it sort of stuck.”

The combination of Ben’s coat over your shoulders and the way your heart is melting at his sweet words makes your entire body feel warmer. 

“That’s a great tradition,” you say, looking over at him with a smile and gently bumping your arm against his. 

You arrive at Ben’s car and he opens the door for you to get in, his hand brushing against yours as you do so, and the brief touch is enough to drive you crazy. 

The drive to your flat isn’t too long, and conversation continues to flow easily between the pair of you. You can’t help but steal a glance at Ben from time to time as he drives, admiring the way the streetlights reflect in his beautiful ocean blue eyes. 

There’s a bit of a pang in your chest when he pulls up in front of your building and you know this is the end of the most incredible night you’ve had in ages. 

“Walk you to your door?” Ben offers, and you nod without hesitation.

He once again comes around to open your door for you - you know you have a low bar right now, but you’re seriously in awe of what a gentleman he’s being. 

Once you’ve arrived at the door to your flat, you turn around to face Ben, and he has a bit of an inquisitive expression on his face.

“I had a really nice time tonight,” he says softly. 

“So did I,” you say sincerely. “Thanks for dinner, and the lift home, and…just, erm, for being so wonderful.”

His cheeks now flushed with red, Ben takes a small step closer to you, and your gaze automatically falls to his lips. You want him to kiss you, you’re sure of it, but some part of you is still completely terrified of where this might go if you do. 

“Can I…” Ben murmurs, tenderly reaching up to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear, and once again, you don’t hesitate. 

“Yes.”

He slowly leans in until his lips are pressed to yours, one hand gently cupping your face and the other resting on your waist. You hold his hand that rests on your cheek as you kiss him back, your lips slowly moving together in perfect harmony.

It’s fun and new and exciting to kiss him, but mostly, just like everything has this evening, it feels right.

When you pull away, it takes a moment for your eyes to remember how to open. When you do, you’re met with an awestruck grin on Ben’s face that you’re pretty sure you’re mirroring yourself. 

“Wow,” you breathe. “Been a long time since I’ve done that.”

You’re not sure if you mean kissing or falling for someone - perhaps both. 

“Me too,” Ben whispers, kissing you once more. “I think we’re pretty good at it.”

You nod, grasping at his shirt as you find yourself swaying slightly, intoxicated by his kisses and his gaze. 

“Maybe we should do it again to be sure,” you joke.

He wastes no time leaning down to kiss you again, and again, and again until you’ve lost all track of time. 

Eventually, he pulls away and takes a small step back, and you miss his lips already.

“I should probably get going,” he says, though you can tell he doesn’t really want to. You have half a mind to invite him inside, but you know it’s better to take things slow, especially when there’s a chance this could really be something. “Can I - erm, would you want to-“

“Yes, please,” you cut him off with a grin. “Text me when you get home?”

You’re already eagerly anticipating a second date - the sooner the better, honestly, despite your wishes to take it slow. 

“Definitely,” Ben says, nodding eagerly. “Have a good night, Y/N.”

He begins to turn to walk away, and you watch him get halfway to his car before fumbling for your keys and entering your flat with a giddy smile on your face. 

You realize you haven’t checked your messages all night, so you quickly return Mia’s texts. 

You flip down on your couch, still smiling like a fool, and it’s only then that you realize you’re still wearing Ben’s jacket. After panicking for a second, you quickly reach for your phone again.

You nearly throw your phone with excitement, counting down the seconds until you get to see him again and thanking your lucky stars that you agreed to go out tonight.

You thought that love died that terrible day eight months ago, that your chance at happiness was over, but now you can’t help but wonder if there’s a reason things ended the way they did. 

Maybe to make way for something better to begin. 

-

please let me know what you thought, i hope you liked this story! i have some more in the works, including a super fluffy christmas one-shot 💓

[gh0stsp1d3r]

Hi! Could you do a Tangerine x reader fic where Tangerine asks the reader to marry him and it possibly leads to something else? Thanks.

gif made by: @konront

Thanks for the request!

Warning- Slight Smut, Mention of pregnancy and children

I’m really rusty at writing smut 😭 my other blog was made forever ago so I kinda forgot how to but hopefully this is good enough

Tangerine was scared. Which wasn’t something he usually felt. Usually, all he would have to worry about was jobs. But the white death is dead now, and he quit doing contract work. So now, he was working at a grocery store, and he didn’t have to worry so much.

But he was scared because of the possibility of rejection. What if you don’t want to get married? There’s a lot that could happen.

Recently, he saw some married couples in public along with their children or child. Before this, he’s never thought of wanting children or being married. But he didn’t have to be scared that one day, he’d go on a job and he wouldn’t come back home to you.

He would have loved to see you pregnant.

You’ve been dating for years, but he really wanted to take another step in the relationship.

He had planned months ahead, he already had a ring, a place, and he had some friends help. (Lemon definitely was excited when tangerine told him)

♥︎♥︎♥︎♥︎

The next day, he told you to get dressed in something nice (he didn’t really care) and be ready at 8 pm.

You said okay, a bit confused but did it nonetheless. When you asked where you were going he said it was a secret. It was a beach. When you left the car you were still slightly confused on why you were dressed nicely to go to the beach.

“C’mon.” He said nervously as he opened your car door.

He checked his phone and lemon sent him a text “I see you 👀 good luck mate.”

Tangerine mentally groaned. Of course he was here.

Tangerine made it look like it was an innocent date, you guys went to a nice restaurant on the beach, and then he led you back.

“Thanks for today. It was amazing.” You smiled and kissed him on the cheek. But then he grabbed your hand and led you up to a walkway.

The walkway was full of flowers, with rose petal on the ground. It had the perfect view of the sunset behind them.

“It’s so pretty.” You muttered and looked at the water. Behind you, he got on his knees and pulled the ring out of his pocket.

When you looked back, you didn’t see him automatically. But when you did, your mouth went agape.

“(Your name), I’ve loved you since I’ve first seen you. You’re my favorite person. You’re the only person I wanna see when I wake up in the morning. You’re the only person I can see me being with. You’re the most special, gorgeous person I’ve ever seen. So.. will you marry me?”

Your eyes watered slightly and you were shocked as you nodded.

He slid the ring on your finger and smiled widely. He stood up and you quickly hugged him, he had the widest smile you’ve ever seen him have on his whole life.

“I love you, so so much.” He said, as he kissed you.

Lemon and a few of yours and his friends came out from nearby bushes and cheered you guys on.

❤︎︎❤︎︎❤︎︎❤︎︎

Tangerine thanked everyone for coming and setting up, he also paid them but that was before.

When you got back in the car, he looked at you and smiled.

“Bet you weren’t expecting that, were you?” He said, fixing his hair in the rear view mirror.

“Not at all.”

“When we get home, I have another surprise for you.” He smirked.

♥︎♥︎♥︎♥︎

When you guys finally got home, as soon as he opened and closed the door he didn’t give you a second.

He immediately had his hands on you, kissing you as your moans started to fill the empty house.

“T, can we at least go to- to the room?” You said, breathlessly as he nodded.

“Ladies first.” He said as soon as you stepped close to the room. You rolled your eyes and got onto the bed anyways. He smirked and immediately made his way to you. He stared down at you underneath him, as you kissed again.

It was gonna be a long night.

[moerusai]

[luckydragon10]

KinnPorsche Meta Doc

I've completely lost my mind. I've done a thing. I'm probably getting in over my head. Am I doing it anyway? Hell yes.

This will be a CURATED DOC. Not just any and all meta is going into it. And, selfishly, I will admit right now that I'm going to curate to my tastes, but hey, I'm going to do a hell of a lot of heavy lifting, so I'm okay with being picky. I have NO PROBLEM with anyone copying the list and curating their own meta library (and if you do, bless, and good luck, but I give you fair warning that it's a lot of continuous work).

There's just so much good stuff out there, and I think I'm going to want to refer back to it later and then not be able to find it. I imagine other people might benefit from this doc as well. I know I've already lost track of some awesome stuff, especially for the earlier episodes.

There's a super-easy recommendation form, linked within the doc.

Fellow meta freaks, members and followers of the IMM, let's see what we can really do.

[fanghuas]

Snippet:

Porsche is eleven years old and it’s raining.

He’s sitting on the front steps of the house with his uncle, both of them still in their best clothes from the funeral. Porchay is upstairs pretending to sleep. Porsche tried to get him to come out, could hear his muffled sobs through the wall, but Chay has locked the door and Porsche thinks it might be best to let him have this.

Porsche’s uncle is fumbling with his lighter.

[minisculecosmos]

I can handle a lot of angst and eat it right up, but seeing Kinn cry after Porche walked away...nope nope nope. I was a big mess, like ugly crying.

NO CAUSE SAME. I was screaming at Porsche “turn around!!!! Turn around!!! Don’t leave him!!!!!” And then he DID but it was for THE MOST HEART WRENCHING KISS IVE SEEN LIKELY EVER, only to ACTUALLY TURN AROUND AND LEAVE.

I literally collapsed when Porsche kissed him. Just straight up ragdolled onto the ground.

But Kinn… you can tell he was trying so hard not to cry. He LOOKED teary eyed, heartbroken, because to Kinn– that was it. As far as he knew in that moment, he would likely never see Porsche again, and even if he did, it likely wouldn’t be in good circumstances. And he wouldn’t be able to seek the other man out either due to the “being dead” excuse. It was a finale for Kinn, the result of getting attached once again to something his heart knew he should’ve stayed away from. Kinn was likely already building his walls back up, becoming more heartless by the second, ready to forsake romantic love for the rest of his life because he had lost Porsche.

And too bad for Porsche, because by returning and saving Kinn’s life (bullet wound aside- but we know he survives so it matters a tiiiny bit less), he got himself back into the mafia, having lost what could probably be his one and only clean way out, but he also gained a fierce lover in doing so

I have many thoughts and feelings about this episode, to say the least. We’ll definitely look back on it for comfort in the darker days ahead. For now, I recommend basking in the glory of all this episode gifted us with. Everyone say thank you Apo and smile, because they pulled through yet again.

[rainbowcolored7]

Okay okay okay, I know I'm probably off the rails here, and this might only matter to me, but hear me out... I know there have been a few deep looks into the Kinn-Porsche-Vegas scene at the spa from ep.4, which were wonderful, but they spoke mostly of Kinn and Vegas. (Rightfully so, the shots were focused mainly on them). I haven't seen anyone really delve into Porsche in this scene, and if someone has and I missed it I'm sorry! Please point me in the direction if someone has because I would love to read it.

I, for some ungodly reason, can't let this scene go when it pertains to Porsche in particular. Maybe it's because I can relate to Porsche a lot, it's easier for me to get inside his head than it is Kinn or Vegas. Maybe I'm projecting a bit, but I do my best to stay unbiased when it comes to analyzing any type of media. So, I'm going to try and dig into this scene a bit more, coming at it from the POV of Porsche.

What really grabbed my attention the most about this scene, beside the obvious, is just how quiet Porsche is through the entire scene. He quite literally doesn't say a single word the entire time. I kept asking myself why? Why is he so subdued here? It's so uncharacteristic of him to not have something to say, big or small.

I've seen people say he's clueless, confused, that the d/s elements are beginning to come into play. All of which I simultaneously agree with and don't. To me, it felt like there was more going on here. I've said that Porsche is smarter than he lets on, that we joke about him being a single braincelled himbo, but that truly he's got a lot going on in his head all the time. Just like Kinn, he's good (if not better) at hiding what he's really thinking and feeling. So, of course, I couldn't just take this scene at face value from his POV. I needed more.

From the start, after he finally wakes, he seems tired, a little out of it. Don't blame him, he's essentially coming back from a bout of heat stroke. (Kinn, really? Rude...) He's probably feeling tired, relaxed, thirsty, hungry etc. He looks like he could go for a nice ass nap even though he just woke up from being passed out. But he's coming to, he's talking, he's engaging.

But as soon as Vegas enters it's almost as if he shuts down? He's polite, which isn't a surprise after his last interaction with Macau (and then again after Vegas lit his smoke, he's friendly and polite). He's clearly learned his lesson when it comes to the minor family. (Well, at least when it comes to manners, if nothing else).

It's a short moment before Kinn enters the room as well, but even before that happens Porsche doesn't appear interested in engaging with Vegas. His focus is on the food, his head down, a polite half-smile on his face for a second. His body language is showing me he doesn't want any part of any conversation Vegas might want to have. Of course, this could have to do with what Kinn said on the balcony, but even then it still felt off to me.

So, I went back through the last few eps to see if I could pinpoint any moment where Porsche was similarly quiet and/or had similar body language/facial expressions. There were a few, and the correlating feelings and emotions spoke volumes to me.

The first moment was when Porsche finds Kinn at the bar in ep.1, long line of bodyguards, sitting pretty, and waiting for him. From the moment Porsche walks in the bar he's quiet, evaluating the threat (I notice every single time how he looks at the bodyguards and then touches his bruised ribs like he's taking stock and preparing to have to fight). Kinn is doing most of the talking. Porsche is observing, he's nervous, he's uncomfortable. Kinn is gently threatening him, throwing his power and pull in Porsche's face. Porsche's questions and remarks are short and to the point, but other than that he's silent and his expressions and body language scream threat, uncomfortable, maybe even a little afraid.

The next moment I pulled was right after Big kicks Porsche to the floor during the compound tour. Chan steps in, and all of Porsche's playful bravado disappears. He's being directly and indirectly reprimanded by Chan, he's out of his depth. He's already feeling like he's been backed into a corner and his hand has been forced, and now it's being shoved in his face again, in front of all the other guards no less!

Anyone who's had a first day at a new job can relate to the overwhelming feelings Porsche is probably feeling here. If I were Porsche I'd have pit stains so big I'd need a new shirt. He tried to assert his dominance and was quickly denied, shoved in line. His shifting gaze speaks highly of feeling incredibly uncomfortable, a similarity to his constant shifting gaze in the food-spa scene.

Before moving on to the next scene I pinpointed, I want to point out that, regardless of when Porsche is feeling uncomfortable or out of his element, he doesn't always appear this way. Looking back at it now, it actually kind of throws me a bit how brash he is when he goes to speak with daddy Korn. Even then, not feeling fully in control and in totally new territory, he still manages a quip or two. He holds his own, he tests some buttons, respectfully. Out of everyone you would think Porsche would remain quiet for, you would think Korn would be one of the tops, but it wasn't. Curious? Maybe.

The next couple scenes don't really fit in so much, but I wanted to add them because they're good examples of showing Porsche feeling incredibly uncomfortable and quite literally a fish out of water, which can be compared to potential feelings he's having during the food-spa scene. Both of these scenes he is silent in. He's been called out, he's been humiliated. He has nothing to say (that he can get away with unscathed that is), and he's actively trying not to dig himself a into a deeper hole than he already has.

Again, sidenote, the scene in ep.2 where Macau goes crying to daddy and big bro, before Kinn puts Porsche down, he is very brash and blasé. I believe this speaks heavily to him still not taking anything seriously, not believing his life or anyone else's is in true danger. After this his behavior begins to change, and we begin to see him trying to understand and taking things a bit more seriously. (Even with Tankhun he's actively trying to get better, he's doing his best to make good of a shitty fucking situation).

So, the next moment where I recognized some similarities in expression/silence/body language is the scene where Kinn has ordered Mes to be beaten to talk.

Here he is again, out of his element, in the exact place he never thought he would be. He's uncomfortable, he's upset, triggered by his memories of his uncle and his past, as confided in with Pete. He's trying to fit into this new role he's been forced into and he's struggling. (And I will quite literally never get over how Kinn makes Pete take him out after seeing how upset he is).

So, this brings us back to the food-spa scene. After Kinn enters the room Porsche's gaze is constantly and consistently sliding over to Kinn. For insight? For acknowledgment? For direction? What is Porsche feeling here?

He's been having another day, for sure. He's been trying to piece together what happened the night before, he's been trying to make sense of Kinn's odd behavior towards him the whole day. (This is still before he remembers that Kinn kissed him on the pier). He's here, sitting with two major players in the Theerapanyakul family after having a very genuine and intimate conversation with Kinn in the sauna. He passed out in his boss's lap, he's probably feeling very off, confused, perhaps just a bit fed up with the entire day.

Both Vegas and Kinn are essentially having a conversation with/about Porsche, but clearly not actually wanting any input from Porsche himself. Porsche is obviously annoyed by this (who wouldn't be? Geez boys), having Kinn speak for him, but he still allows it, without his usual quips, without his usual foot in mouth expression. Is it Vegas' presence, is it Kinn?

Comparing all the previous scenes to this one, I would say Porsche is once again feeling backed into a corner. He's feeling like he has no control, no choice, no voice, no agency. He's tired, he's trying to remain polite because he knows what dangers it could cause if he's himself right now. This whole conversation is about him, something I don't think goes over his head, and he is writhing with annoyance about it. He's uncomfortable, he's out of his element again, almost like he's back where he started. Except this time, when he wants to say something, he can't, and I think it's really bothering him. He's not used to not being able to speak his mind openly.

This... Was a very long-winded way of saying hey, Porsche was uncomfy during this scene, not lacking a braincell. There you go, there's the summary of this this word-vomit lol.

I'd love to hear anyone else's thoughts on this! I had more to say but I'm a bottle of wine in and losing the ability to form real coherent thoughts after spending basically my entire evening fleshing this out.

Thanks for reading, if you got all the way to the end! 💜

[zozo-01]

"round and round on a horse like a carousel."

Here we are!! We finally got this massive fic out and done! I've always wanted to write a fic with Sam and Gavin, anddd my official bodycount is now up to two (thousand)!!! Special shout out to my lovely 'zo keeper' @gingerbreadmonsters who is enjoying some perfectly desrved R&R on the other side of the world!!! Thank you for letting me play with your theory and shoving Sam and Darlin' into it!!!

 CW: Angst, Multiple Major Character Death (most of it is shown but only one is described), Grieving Characters, (they are not handling the grieving process well), Hopelessness and Despair all around, Ambiguous Ending, Manipulation, Slight Coercion, Follows Ginger's "Echo is Gavin" Theory, Multiverse (kind of), Poor Sam is going t h r o u g h it, Echo doesn't care, Despite everything Echo does care for Sam, Mentions of Alexis invoking Sam to kill Darlin', You need to read 'have and hold' and 'reeling' to understand what is going on

click here for the ao3 link!!!

--

“Well you’re as handsome as the day I met you.”

He didn’t know what he let out, if it was a chuckle or sob. To be quite honest, he couldn’t hear anything except for the voice of the raspy shifter in bed. He needed to hear them, for what limited time they had left together. If he can’t go on with eternity with them, then at least let him burn their voice, their magical laugh, in his head. For the nights (or days he suppose) when everything is too much and he feels like he’ll burst, the memory of their voice will bring him back. Calm the angry threads that are barely bursting from the seams.

Although, one could argue that the memory of them in any capacity would shatter him more than what trivial and worldly matter will plague him.

“And you’re just as beautiful, Darlin’.”

Darlin’s hoarse chuckle led to a series of coughs. Realistically, Sam knows that their lungs aren’t what they used to be, but every cough had his core pulsating with the need to heal them. Not that healing magic would do them any good.

Another moment of silence passed, the clock ticking becoming louder. 

“I’m sorry, Sammy.”

He shook his head and repeated the same phrase once again. “It ain’t your fault.”

With a stubborn glint, one that had weakened with time, Darlin’ replied, “But I don’t want to leave you!” Their eyes were watery and their voice strained with pain in their chest. Part of him was scared that they were wasting precious energy trying to stay strong for him. Leave it to them to not rest in their final moments.

(Wait a minute, was that crack in the corner always there?) He wiped their tears, feeling his own build up, not that he’ll ever let himself cry when they needed more comfort than himself. He’ll have all the time to be selfish later. “I understand, you didn’t wanna be turned, I get it more than anyone else.”

But his words weren’t enough to change their mind. He’s long accepted that fact yet he continues. “We both knew this day was going to come. And listen to me,” he kneeled on the ground and held their hands, “I had the time of my life with you. You’ve made me the happiest man I could be, and to this day I still think I don’t deserve it. But I am the luckiest man ever to call you my mate.” He kissed their temple. “I love you, Darlin’.”

They gave a weak smile. “I love you too, my Nashira.” Their breathing slowed and they relaxed on the bed. “I’m tired, baby…” Their voice drifted off and Sam accepted the worst.

“Sleep, my love, you deserve to rest.” He kissed their forehead for the last time and watched them take their last breath. 

(Seriously, the hospital was brand new, why were there cracks in the ceiling?) Now that he was confident they were gone, he clutched onto this body, sobbing into their shoulder and mumbling about how they deserve peace in the afterlife. 

But it wasn’t fair.

Why couldn’t he have been made human so he could at least join them soon? A selfish part of his wishes that Darlin’ was turned into a vampire so they could be immortal and happy. Whatever the case, why must he lose his love when everyone else can have theirs? Why must he have a bad ending after being dealt a bad life and bad death? 

His mother always warned him to always be careful of what he wished for, but right now, he’d suffer any and all consequences just to meet them again. 

(Ok this is getting concerning now, because now the entire ceiling is gone-)

“What a shame. Another iteration, another failed attempt.”

Sam had wondered if a foreign voice could sound so familiar. It was cold and distant, like a scientist viewing the results of an experiment. But it had a sense of sorrow, a type of exasperation. Whoever this ‘scientist’ was wanted his experiment to work, but something told Sam that he was used to failure. In a weird sense, it sounded like a mixture of every voice he heard in his life. A strange concoction of dialects and accents and tones that left him unsure who to pin the owner of this voice. 

(There was one person that came to his head, but he shook that thought immediately. The voice in his head was too cruel to be him.)

There were other voices in his brain too. The ones that belonged to one of the few friends his mate made in their youth. (They’d always called it their Starboy era.) 

An incubus that they had met in one of the many clubs they adored and his partner that he worshipped over anything else.

“You’re my sky, deviant. The space between my stars… In a lifetime of sensing the emotions of others, I never imagined I could feel like this... This much… And I am so grateful for it, and for you.”

Who the fuck was that-

Gone was the bed where his Darlin’ passed in their sleep, the world had cracked and broke around him, only for them to be replaced with a clear sarcophagus and an eternal night sky.

Inside was the body of the Freelancer that was once adored by his incubus friend. 

(Wait a minute, didn’t he see them last week?)

Before he can think any further, from the neverending nothing, a body emerged. It was an incubus, that much Sam could tell from his aura, but instead of the pink colouring that most incubi had, this one was all black. The tips of his horns were a midnight shade, without any of the stars that make the night sky beautiful. His eyes were devoid of any light, and he had the feeling that something ripped the light from his eyes and used it to paint the stars. 

There was something else that was off with him. Sam couldn’t keep his eyes off the outline of the not-so-incubus incubus, puzzled by the glitching effect that surrounded him. The false sex demon (or at least, he thinks it’s a fake) was outlined with a pink and white hue, not like the usual red and blue glitches he’s seen before. He was causing disturbances in the otherwise stunning galaxy themed room. It was clear that this… Whatever this being was, he didn’t belong here. Sam had an inkling that this irregularity hadn’t come to give his condolences for his mate’s death.

(He could never understand how the term incubus, a term referring to creatures of light and fun and sex could also refer to a dark and twisted nightmare.)

(He was about to find out soon.)

The demon smiled, leaning his arms against the sarcophagus and chuckled, “Hello Nashira.”

Sam bared his fangs at the stranger, distrust filling his body. “You don’t get to fuckin’ call me that.” There were only two people who could call him that. One of them was dead. And the other was about to become dead inside. (Shh. Don't tell Sam that, this is our secret.)

The demon pouted, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “Oh? You don’t remember me, Samuel? We go all the way back.” He gave a sly smile that Sam found all too familiar. “Your mate loves- oh, excuse my language, I had forgotten, loved having me around.”

Sam growled, “Don’t you fuckin’ talk like that around me.” He glanced at the dead or sleeping freelancer in the sarcophagus. “Or else you’ll be seein’ my mate and that partner of yours real fuckin’ soon.” Sure it was a low blow, but this incubi impersonator struck first and Sam’s never been known to hold back any punches, especially when it comes to his mate. In his anger, he even forgot the contradiction presented by the body in the sarcophagus. 

(Came. He meant when it came with his mate. No one tells you how hard it is to change the tenses in his words, let alone his mind.)

The impersonator raised an eyebrow, his eyes becoming darker, but that smile remained on his face. “Samuel, Samuel, Samuel. It’s adorable that you think a vampire can overpower a demon, but I shall let you feed your own delusions.” 

The demon paused for a minute. “You know, you and I used to get along so well,” he sighed. “Though I can’t blame you. It’s been years since we last saw each other, after all.”

“As if I’d befriend a prick like you,” Sam scoffed. Ok, maybe pissing off a demon isn’t a good idea, even when he considers his own immortality, but man oh fucking man, this demon’s a dipshit asshole and he wants to knock him down a peg.

The demon barked out a laugh, and Sam wonders where he’s heard that before. “Alright, then I’ll just have to remind you, Nashira. How about a trip down our memory lane?” 

It was a deal. With the way his voice sounded, it seemed like the impersonator made countless deals in his lifetime. The tone came to him naturally, he definitely has used it before. (Sam wonders if he was one of this creature’s past deals). Everything in him was screaming at him to turn away from this devil’s ploy, but his morbid curiosity craved the apple the demon was offering. 

“Alright, I’ll bite.” …The pun was honestly unintentional, but by God, if this demon is going to make a comment about it, he’s going to-

The smirk from the demon said it all. “You vampires sure love to bite things don’t you. Am I the next thing on your ‘to-be-bitten list’?”

“Shut up, demon, and get on with your story,” he grumbled, fully knowing he walked into that himself.

“Alright, alright, I’ll get off your case, Nashira,” he said, the sly smirk faded into a small smile, his eyes giving away that he was reminiscing on a memory. “I brought them, your darlin’, home one night. They had decided to get absolutely inebriated, so I had to carry them.” He walked around the sarcophagus and in front of Sam. “You chastised them for going above their limit, and they insisted that they were absolutely fine and it didn’t matter because I was there.” 

He went silent for a moment, a fond smile on his face. “They were always so stubborn…” His voice was quiet yet filled with adoration. Why was he talking about Dar-

The demon shook his head, breaking his trance and continued. “After you put them to bed, we caught up and I told you to be careful with their heart, that you were their ‘Nashira’. And you promised that-”

“That I’d burn the world and kill anyone in their way to make sure they’d never suffer another day again…” Shock filled his body, mouth hanging open and eyes embedded onto the demon. “How did you know?”

There was no way. His darlin’ was asleep and now permanently so, so they couldn’t have somehow told this stranger. And there was only one other person in the room that night. So it has to be him. But it’s impossible, there’s no way. The demon in front of him was far more cruel than the one he shared that sentiment with. Although… The body was similar to him, bar for the glitches and black colouring… And his voice was eerily similar, easily discernible from the cacophony of voices when the demon opened his mouth… And even that fucking bite joke is so him…

So then…

“Gavin? Is that you?”

There was a wistful smile on the stranger's face, almost happy by Sam’s attempt at discerning his identity. He let out a hollow chuckle, eyes glistening for a quick moment. “Ah, it’s been a while since someone has called me by that name, I almost forgot what it sounded like coming from another person’s mouth.” 

Sam stared, aghast. Surely it couldn’t be possible.

The shadow-man continued. “I only hear that name within the fleeting memories I torment myself with, willing to endure the pain so I can hear my name with their voice, just as it should be.”

He paused, mockingly bowing in front of the vampire. “So thank you, Samuel, for reminding me of that accursed name, but you are mistaken, my Nashira.” He cruelly smirked, eyes becoming blacker than black, whatever sliver of light that remained had gone, leaving the bitter and powerful entity. “The Gavin you knew is dead within the stadium walls, along with my deviant and your mate, all those years ago in the Inversion.”

A friend, wearing a stranger’s face. Familiarity and foreignness mixing together in an uncomfortable manner. 

“These days, I go by Echo.”

(Ok, that’s impossible. He can clearly picture his Darlin’ charging through the crowd in the aftermath in their gorgeous wolf form, and he remembers watching them like they were an angel sent from above. There was no way, no fucking way, that they could have died.)

(They weren’t even in the wards during that god forsaken day.)

Gav- Echo stood straighter, like he was proud of the person he’s become. Sam still couldn’t believe it. The incubus he knew was sweet and kind, with a heart of the purest gold that’s ever been mined. He was the type of man who’d carry old ladies’ purses while they cross the street, or make funny faces at the baby in the stroller. 

He loves unconditionally, becoming immortal not by the magic flowing through his veins, but by the magic he leaves behind in the hearts of the people he interacted with.

But this person… This echo of the demon he knew… He was the furthest from what he remembered of him. 

Echo chuckled at the puzzled thoughts that shone in Sam’s eyes. “This still is my favourite part, reminding you of our mission and updating you on how close I am to finishing it.”

Sam furrowed his eyebrows. “What the fuck are you talkin’ about? What mission? I didn’t agree to shit. And that still doesn’t explain what the hell happen to you Gavin! I saw you last week with your partner at the hospital! So how are they in that glass coffin!”

Echo snarled at his old name and raised his voice. “I told you, I go by Echo now.” He caressed the clear sarcophagus in a gentle way, like a lover caresses their partner’s cheek. “Gavin died when they did,” he whispered, like it was a secret between the two men. 

Sam understood it, recognized that pain. Part of him died with Darlin’ and now he might hurl any time someone not them calls him ‘Samuel’. It was their name to use and now it’ll have no use.

He furrowed his eyes, taken aback by Echo’s statement. But they were alive, he spoke to them last week. Despite their equal old age to his mate, them and their Gavin (the nice one, not this monstrosity in front of him), would constantly come by the hospital to see how Darlin’ was doing. It was nice, the support they, the clan and the pack provided was vital for him to keep his sanity.

Despite every logical sense making it seem like Echo is lying, the pain in his voice, the despair in his eyes, it was too real. The flinch his body did when he called him ‘Gavin’ was way too specific for it to be a simple mimicry of other grieving lovers. Whatever this version of the Gavin he cared for was, he’d experience the loss of his Deviant.

Either that or Echo should be given an Oscar for his performance tonight.  

Perplexed by this paradox, he opened his mouth to ask. Surely he deserves some answers as to what’s going on in this fever dream. “But they’re alive… I saw them breathin’.” He dared to step closer, a small part of him wanting to comfort Echo over their shared pain. 

A bittersweet smile graced his face, and yet again, it was too raw and real for anyone to fake. “They won’t be alive for much longer, Nashira.” With a wave of his hand, the starry night scene that they’d been in had morphed into a house.

This was Gavin’s and Freelancer’s house.

Sam looked over to the couch to see the human and incubus sitting there, laughing at the TV in front of them. Of course they were watching ‘Pingu’. He still couldn’t fathom why on earth either of them adore that show, but you can bet that their nights had consisted of curling up in their Cinnamoroll pajamas and laughing at the absurdity of the penguins on the screen. It was cute and wholesome and the exact domesticity that both of them deserved, so he never said anything. He can appreciate cuddles and a show to laugh at, even if he didn’t agree with the entertainment itself. Besides, it was nice to see the tradition be continued all these years later.

“I don’t even know why I loved that penguin show, but it’s just too damn loveable to not be obsessed with it,” Echo mused, walking towards the older version of his freelancer. “Admittedly, the pajamas were also my idea. I know, I know, seems out of character for me, but I digress. I do look damn good in a Keroppi onesie.” He chuckled and knelt before the older freelancer, caressing their cheek, even though Sam had a feeling the freelancer couldn’t feel his touch. His iconic glitches had calmed, and he became more grounded in reality.

Sam wondered if the freelancer calmed Echo’s rage, the same way Darlin’ did for him.

He felt a bubble of smugness burst through him, happy at the thought that for the first time during this fever dream, he got a leg up on Echo. “See? Told you they’re still alive, so you can cut the horse shit and tell me what the fuck is goin’ on here.”

A beat passed and Freelancer fell onto the ground, clutching their heart in deep agony.

Any and all pride that Sam felt a few seconds ago gave way to dread, forgetting that once again that darker incubus had been right again. He rushed forward, instincts taking over to try to heal his friend, only to be stopped when Echo put a hand on his shoulder.

“There’s no use, Nashira, they’re already gone.” His face had a hardened look, like he’d watch this scene happen over and over, but his voice had a resigned sadness in it. That despite expecting this result, he wished it would end differently. 

Wish carefully, listener. Actions have consequences. And wishes granted have a cost.

He tried to plead, struggling against the demon’s grip, “I can help! It ain’t fair that he loses his partner too! Send me back and let me save them-”

“Do you think I haven’t tried that?!” Echo responded with a question that Sam was sure rhetorical. His voice kept a steady tone, but it didn’t do much to hide the rage from his voice. “I have tried every single variation, every single possibility, changed every single variable but it leads to the same fucking outcome. Your mate dies and my deviant follows them to the River.” He pulled the vampire up on his feet and whisked them both back to the starry room that they began this conversation in. “How dare you be so arrogant that you think you can change this? If anyone can save them both, it will be me.” He seethed every word, and Sam could finally see the total toll it had taken on Echo.

That still didn’t explain what he had gone through, and Sam wanted to understand. Whether or not he could comprehend it was up to how well Echo explained everything to him. 

Echo sighed, rage leaving his face and replacing it with apathy. “Apologies Samuel, I know you don’t remember anything. But can you blame me for losing my shit when you’re being, and I’m putting this gently, a goddamned idiot.” He looked back at the sarcophagus, affectionately rubbing it once again. 

(Come to think of it, the way Echo rubs the coffin reminds him of the window cleaners on the skyscrapers he’s seen. He can even picture the cloth in Echo’s hand, methodically wiping it clean. Huh, no wonder why the sarcophagus is all sparkly and shiny.)

Sam had taken offence of the insult, but he remembered the ache in his voice a moment prior. He could see the gears turning in Echo’s head, a restless mind coming up with another plan to achieve his ultimate desire. 

An unconscious part of him wanted to help the former incubus (the jury is still at the stands) succeed in his goal. Was it because despite evidence to the contrary, Echo looked and spoke and moved like his best friend? Or was it in his nature to heal people, lend a helping hand to those who needed it? 

(Was it because his Darlin’ would have jumped at the opportunity to help a ‘friend’ out and he needed to keep their soul tethered to the mortal world for a little while longer?)

(But maybe he’s always been a selfish man, and this was his way to get his Darlin’ back permanently.)

Apple firmly in his hand, he weighed the consequences of taking the fated bite. His mind screamed that indebting his soul to the devil is a terrible idea. But he needed to get some answers, to understand the clusterfuck chain of events that leads him to this very moment. A deal with a devil never killed anybody, especially if he knows that the devil was once an angel. 

“You mentioned earlier that we been through this before?” Sam recalled.

Echo nodded thoughtfully, choosing his next words carefully. “Are you sure, Samuel? You don’t understand what you’re asking to learn.”

“More than anythin’ in my life,” he confidently answered, stamping out any fear or uncertainty from his voice. His mate would’ve been disappointed in him. They hadn’t gone to law school just to see their mate agree to a contract without seeing the terms.

“If you’re gonna sign your ass away, at least do it with consent and knowledge, Sammy.”

God, he missed their voice. He wanted to hear it again like a dark forest craves the sun.

The far-too-demonic incubus narrowed his eyes at the vampire, his scowl growing deeper. His cold voice spoke, “Well fine, I’ll make that decision for you.” He stalked closer to Sam, the once pink and white glitches surrounding his body becoming more intense. The distortions seemed to respond to Echo’s emotions, and by the looks of it, he had a fury that rivaled the most spiteful Gods. 

Had his teeth become sharper? His horns larger? Sam didn’t have time to answer these questions because faster than he could perceive, Echo stopped within striking distance of the vampire, snarling in disgust and rage. 

“Absolutely no.”

Sam opened his mouth to retort, “Hold on, ain’t you the one who just said that we been through this before?” If there was anything he hated more than a two faced, back-stabbing, lying bitch ass, it’s a motherfucker who goes back on his word. 

Echo pinched the bridge of his nose, muttering an ‘I don’t have time for this’ under his breath. “Look, I get it. You want to save your mate, really I do. But learning the grander plan at play would only bring you more pain.” He placed both his hands on Sam’s shoulders and gave them a comforting squeeze. “We can do this without you having to bear the weight of this knowledge. Let this be my burden to carry.”

Fuck that shit. Sam had never been the type to let someone else solve his problems, especially when it comes to his mate, and no dimension-breaking asshole imitation of his mate’s best friend is going to change that. 

“Gav- Echo,” he said hesitantly, “I wanna help you save both of our partners, and me knowin’ will just help your cause.” Sam felt the urge to get on his knees and beg, just so he can understand what the fuck is going on. “Please, I need to know.”

He let go of Sam’s shoulder and takes a step back. Echo’s face conformed into a cold fury, a far cry from the comforting tone he used a second prior. “I tried to make this as painless as possible for you, Nashira,” he spat out, with an effort to remain as calm as he could. But with every word Echo said, his composure wavered, a strained frustration creeping into his voice. “Yet you clearly, want to make things harder for yourself.” 

Sam watched as Echo’s glitches threatened to rip apart the reality they presided in. Tears appeared in the night sky and the stars were falling on the “ground” they stood on, crashing and exploding into a brilliant white light. For each star that descended from this makeshift heaven, Sam could hear Gavin’s voice from a life from long ago.

“I can be both a good man and a very bad incubus all at once.”

“You can let yourself feel everything right now, and I’ll weather this storm with you. Just like you did for me.”

“Now, there’s an idea. You know I’m a sucker for a callback.”

(Sam also noted that the sarcophagus carrying Freelancer’s body had vanished. Where to? He hadn’t the faintest clue, but something told him that even in death, Echo didn’t want his deviant to see him in this rageful state.)

His pondering was cut off with Echo’s booming and well, for lack of a better term, echoing voice. “Do you have any idea how it feels to carry millennia worth of memories that no one but I understand? How it kills me to know everything about you and your mate and Damien and Lasko and Huxley and them, but knowing all you will only exist in my life for a fraction of the time I’ve spent observing this world?”

A moment of silence passed.

Everything stopped.

Sam half expected for Echo to evaporate into non-existence. (What that meant he had no idea, but he didn’t have time to contemplate existentialism right now.) 

Instead, Echo composed himself. He waved a hand and every fallen star rose back into the sky and the reality-breaking tears stitched themselves back. “If you wish to become a stubborn, unnecessary martyr, then be my guest. But don’t you dare regret this decision later on.”

Sam couldn’t get a word in before Echo spoke once again. The room went dark again, but before he could panic about the sudden blindness, Echo spoke directly into his mind, a cacophony of every voice Sam has ever heard blanding into one harmonious tune. 

"Wish carefully, Nashira. Actions have consequences. And wishes granted have a cost."

(Glad to know Echo keeps the talks-a-lot-incubus tradition alive.)

On an unrelated note, Sam’s eyes felt heavy, like he hadn’t slept for eons. Sure he’s not known for his impeccable sleep schedule, but he’s never one to turn down the chance at some shut eye. Besides he’s had a hard life, let him lay down… And get some sleep… Maybe dream of them if he’s lucky.

(When has Samuel Collins ever been lucky?)

…

You know how when you fall asleep on a bus? Or on the train? (Or the tube as the British call it.) You don’t know when you fall asleep, and you know for a damn fact that you shouldn’t be sleeping in public where anyone can just… You’re sleeping on a train, you can fill in the rest.

That was what Sam experienced. Should he be sleeping in front of an omnipotent being that’s only one step away from a God? Absolutely no, but he did it anyway. Though on the bright side, at least he’s been blessed with a dream. 

But it's not them. 

“Samuel, I promise there’s a way to bring them back! But you have to believe me!”

“How Gavin!? How the fuck am I supposed believe when you say you’re gonna bring them back? I saw that shade fuckin’ drain ‘em! I saw the life fade from their eyes! You’re either delusional for thinkin’ you can save both of’ our partners, or your bein’ cruel for no goddamn reason.”

“Well you better believe me, because I can. But… It means watching them die over and over again until we get it right. Can you do that? Can you fall in love with them, only to know that you will only be guaranteed eternal happiness once?”

“...You do it everyday with your freelancer, don’t you? Why shouldn’t this be any different?”

“I’m not asking for me. Are you able to handle that kind of pain?”

“Lord knows I’d endure a thousand hells for them. I’ll do it in a heartbeat.”

“Alright, my dear Nashira, just remember…

…Actions have consequences. And wishes granted have a cost."

Oh right. He agreed to a deal. There was no point in wondering if he was making a deal with the devil because he bit the damned fruit long before he could even remember it.

A snapping sound slowly drags him back to consciousness, and a harsh reminder from Echo brings him back all the way. 

(Come to think of it, Sam didn’t even think he fell asleep. He just disassociated so hard that he felt his soul leave his body and relieve that past memory. Or maybe it wasn’t all in his head? Great, add time travel to the weird shit that’s happened so far.)

“Wake up, Sam,” he says with a harsh tone. If Echo had the same mannerisms, and everything tonight (or today?) proved that to be true, then Echo calling Sam ‘Sam’ and not some nickname or ‘Samuel’ or ‘Nashira’ meant that he’s pissed. Not in a ‘Freelancer not giving him affection for more than five minutes’ kind of way, but in a more ‘watching some professor antagonize Damien for being a fire elemental’ way.

Sam just hoped that perhaps Echo will have more mercy on him than the scarred professor.

(Emotionally scarred. She wasn’t worth having to deal with all the paperwork from D.U.M.P.)

“So you finally remember everything?” He may have posed it as a question, but the mocking undertone was a clear indication that he already knew that answer. It was silent for a moment, only to be broken when Echo clasped his hands together. “Well it’s always wonderful to speak to you, Nashira, but we have partners to revive, which if we’re being honest, would have been done quite earlier if someone would keep his reckless wolf alive.” 

What… No, he can’t…

Again? He had to go through that again? How on Earth did Echo expect him to go through the same love story for the thousandth time? If the definition of insanity is to do the same thing over and over and over again, then he has long gone past the deep end. He didn’t even know what possessed him to agree to this fucking deal those lifetimes ago. God damn it, he should have never bit the apple. Bringing people back? From the dead? The closest anyone has gotten to that is a vampire’s turning, but he knew his Darlin’ would rather die than give up their wolf. So he has to find a way to keep them immortal without turning them.

Cool. No pressure. When you boil it down to a simple sentence, it seems doable. 

That was before he had to watch them die a thousand times, and having to prepare himself from watching them die a thousand more.

He remembers it all now. The doomed timelines, the sinking and permanent dread that accompanied him around their death, the constant beratement from Echo whenever he failed. Given that he’s still here, talking to Echo and not enjoying immortal bliss with Darlin’ goes to show how much he has failed.

How dare Samuel Collins be so arrogant as to think as he could reverse an event so vital to the timelines he has the privilege of residing in. Does he not know his misery keeps his world spinning?

(Of course he knows why he agreed to all of this. Echo… Gavin’s voice held so much conviction, so much belief, that this plan could work. To call it a plan is giving it more credit than it deserves. It’s more of a hypothesis. However, theory can only be made fact if there is evidence behind it. At this point, it’s proving to be more fictitious everyday.)

In a meek voice, not out of fear but hesitation, Sam spoke for what seems to be the first time in a while.

“No.”

Echo halted. No, scratch that, the entire room just stopped. 

Before the stars and little clouds in the sky moved, twirling and twinkling in the false night sky.

The room seemed to forget how to breathe. Sam had to remind himself that despite his undead status, he wasn’t allowed the luxury of forgetting.

Echo scoffed, once then twice. Then he started cackling, bending over and clutching his stomach in a failed attempt to control this burst of joy. Or perhaps the absurdity of the entire situation has finally caught up to him. 

The ground cracked underneath the demon’s feet as he stomped around the room-dimension thing. “Of course, of course! I should have known that this would happen!” He muttered to himself. “Every single time we meet like this, you try to bail out because of your bullshit morals. Morals, that mind you, you only have because of them.” The stars heated up as his glare intensified. “Need I remind you how you treated Fred’s progeny?”

Sam was still living with the guilt of how he treated them and how they're relationship fell apart. 

If only he met Darlin' earlier-

“That's exactly it!” He yelled and the room shook with his fury. Did Echo just read his mind? “You’ve always based your decisions on what they would want you to do.” He scoffed, the temperature dropping as ice laced his voice. “Not that it ever stopped you before.”

Sam didn’t know if the chill down his spine came from the cold of the room or the cold hard truth his deranged friend was speaking. He was right. Sam will whine and cry about morals and standards and questions and thoughts of ‘what would Darlin’ do’, but it didn’t matter. In the end, he’d continue on with Echo’s mad experiment to save them. (Save them both.)

Bite the apple from the snake, suffer the consequences of the sin, go back to the Garden of Eden and do it all over again.

(Does that make his darlin’ the Adam in this story? Convincing him that eternal damnation wasn’t worth the pain of immortality? It wasn’t that Darlin’ didn’t wouldn’t agree with the plan. His Darlin’ was as selfless and kind as the Saints he was forced to pray towards. Death was nothing to them if it meant they could be the cause of that salvation that saves their friends. No, they’d disagree with the plan because they couldn’t bear seeing their beloved in constant, perpetual and unavoidable pain.)

(Or maybe their mercy  makes them Jesu’? A martyr destined to die over and over and over for the sins of those who have ruined them? If that’s the case, then he’s Judas, the fool who damned Jesus with a kiss.)

The demon rolled his eyes back in the dramatic fashion that he was known for. With a wicked smile and a faux concern dripping from his voice, he taunted the vampire, “Come on, Sam, we both know what you want.” Any and all anger was gone, replaced with the smug satisfaction of a man (or interdimensional magical being) who knows he’s been right in every scenario. Why, of course he is. Echo has had this same argument a thousand times over.

And he’s won every single time. 

(What can he say, he’s had a lot of practice.)

“Do I need to remind you of the times where you were the one who killed your precious mate?” He asked to continue to poke and infuriate the vampire.

Of course he didn’t need to. There have been timelines where Alexis had invoked him to kill his wolf out of petty revenge. (Let it be said that the actions of these Alexises are not indicative of the Alexis you are familiar with.) He remembers the taste of their blood when he killed them. It wasn’t of fear or disgust, it was of acceptance and peace. Like he was making love to them in their bed and not violating their body. They had always said, “If I wanted anyone to kill me, I want it to be you, since you’ll make sure I’d be loved in my final moments.” 

He wished they had hated him instead. The wild fire, the raging blizzard, within their blood hurt more than any acid in this or any world. 

Echo, satisfied with the memories that were returning to Sam, put the final nail to the coffin carrying Sam’s flimsy convictions. “You don’t want all of that pain and suffering they had to endure to go to waste, don’t you? So I ask you again, Nashira, don’t you want to have them again?”

The most infuriating part was that he was right, so fucking right. This is what Sam wants.

He wants to drag his Darlin’ from the river by the hair he loved to pull when kissing them and hold them close and keep them safe and alive for all of eternity. Wants to gently place them down on their bed and play with his hair and tell them that nothing will hurt them. His arms were the shield they desperately needed after a lifetime of fighting. To make up for all the pain he has caused them in multiple timelines and create the most perfect future possible for them, just for them. Helping Echo with his own predicament is an added benefit.

The sunk cost fallacy is a phenomenon where a person is reluctant to abandon a strategy because they’ve invested everything ounce of themselves to see it succeed. Echo and Sam were becoming too familiar with the ocean floor.

Quiet resignation and deep laughter filled the room, with the demon wiping his nonexistent tears from his eyes. “It’s always fun to break you, Nashira, but we have work to do. And this time,” his eyes darkened and the stars flickered out, leaving the two men visible, “I expect results.”

Sam nodded and an apple appeared in front of him. When he takes another bite, the cycle of pain will continue, and it will end with him. And he will end it.

He has to.

If not for his happiness, than for the happiness of the twisted demon he once called a friend. 

–

Now that the cycle restarted and Sam was sent back to the beginning, Echo remained in the room. Alone and perfectly still, like water that hasn’t been agitated.

The false memories always work. He gave himself a pat on the back for coming up with that idea after the first few cycles, when Sam was becoming resistant. 

The ‘multiple timelines’ that Sam had experienced were really just simulations that Echo created to cycle through in order to find the perfect solution. Each one contained a different ‘what if’ to reveal more information about how this world works. 

What if Alexis was a petty and jealous ex?

What if David turned on Darlin’ and let Quinn take them? 

What if they had a normal life and died of old age?

They all had a different purpose, but none of them were real enough to have any lasting consequences, but lovely Sam didn’t need to know that.

In truth, while Echo can make all the alternate universes or lifelike dreams he wants, he can only reset the prime universe, the one we know and love, only once. So he had to make absolutely, one hundred percent sure that he can manipulate the right factors to create his desired outcome. And he finally thinks he did it. After years of self-isolation and watching his friend be tortured, he finally broke the crystal.

(Whoever gets that joke has quite good taste in TV shows.)

Echo looked up at the black void and smiled. “Are you seeing this?! You said I could never and I fucking did!” Silence was his only response but he didn’t mind.

It took him much too long to learn about the secrets of turning humans into concubines, but better late than never. Considering that Darlin’ is a shifter, a human that is closer to a demon than a freelancer, it only makes sense to make them his first and successful attempt. (Mark his words, he will succeed.)

From his pocket, he held a photo in his hands. It was taken in front of the local cowboy club in Dahlia and the incubus and shifter were smiling. Happiness coursed through their veins and unbeknownst to neither, more was on the way. Echo studied how lively and youthful Darlin’ looked back then. Before Quinn had forced them to let go of themselves and the carefree nature that made them loveable. While he thanks Sam for bringing that side out of them, he was going to make sure they stay like that.

Permanently. 

He took a deep breath and braced himself. Once he saves them, he can save his beloved deviant.

He was going to see his beloved deviant again.

And he will make sure they all live happily ever after.  (But do you know what they say about those who try to alter destiny? The fates will not take kindly to anyone to change their plans and will do anything to get back on the right track. Certain events can never change, lest the universe unravels on itself. But Echo would relish that type of destruction, wouldn’t he.)