#in relation to the past vision

[invye]

So @kacievvbbbb asking about modern AU headcanons had me revisiting my 'modernised' MiShanks AU I thought up a couple months ago.

I call it 'modernised' because it is more of a medium modern AU, where I keep much of the base OP lore and history, but shrink the 'active' world down to just a few islands. The overall tech level and societal developments are much closer to what we have now and I do away with most of the political plot. I haven't yet decided if Devil Fruits still exist, but if they do, they are much more rare and are kind of a thing of legend most people don't believe in. Only very select few people would know about them and the curse associated with them.

So lets get into it, I've got plenty of thoughts on Mihawk, Shanks and how their relationship plays together in a more modern world. (And because Rosinante is also one of my favourites, and I can't seem to not smush them all together, there is a CoraMiShanks bit at the end too.)

- Mihawk -

Basic weaponry is a bit more in line with modern expectations in this AU, but that will never ever stop Mihawk from being a swords guy. Mihawk is the authority on fencing, especially in historical context. He's basically got a PHD in swords, identifying them, maintaining them, using them. He's filthy rich, not just because he won every fencing tournament there is, but also because he straight up inherited that half maintained castle outside of town along with stupid amounts of money from an uncle everyone thought already died decades before Mihawk received his testament.

These days Mihawk only competes in the highest level tournament once a year to defend the title (his 'rivalry' with Shanks makes the news every time) and otherwise spends his time at home, reading, drinking, occasionally taking small sailing trips with his beloved Hitsugibune, and of course training his swordsmanship. Everyone thinks he's just living it up big in Kuraigana castle, but the people in town know that he just wants to raise his kids in peace.

Where did the kids come from? No one knows. They're definitely not his though. Anyway, turns out that Mihawk is really good with kids, so it takes barely a couple years for the whole town to load off their kids with him during holidays and days off school. (Look, Zeff runs a busy kitchen, and as much as Sanji tries to help, he's still too young for the holiday rush. Garp has to leave on Marine assignments at the most random times, and his bum of a son has vanished to who knows where years ago, and the grandkids are friends with Zoro and Sanji anyway and can do with burning out their energy running around the woods behind the castle. Bellemère has to leave on those assignments with Garp most of the time, so Nami joins the fray while Nojiko mostly plays with Perona. Mihawk usually leaves the teen girls be on their own, especially since Robin showed up a while ago to join them [she seems to stay on her own, and Mihawk keeps an eye on her in case she needs additional help, but Crocodile seems to have that sorted already]. Usopp's mom is still sick, and she's grateful to know her son is out there having fun with his friends while she tries the next medicine with horrible side effects.)

The kids love Mihawk. Mihawk loves the kids too and to much of his dismay, the kids know it. He is a figure of authority to them, but also a person of trust, who they can approach with problems and worries when their usual parental figure is unavailable or out of reach. Given that Mihawk is pretty much always around, he begrudgingly accepts his new job as free childcare provider for the town (Garp tried to pay once. They all realised very quickly they get much farther by paying in favours, food, or doing little odd jobs because that old castle always needs something done).

Mihawk promised to teach Ace and Sabo to sail this summer, and with Luffy insisting to bounce around them, he already plans on doing more swimming and child fishing than actual sailing.

- Shanks -

Shanks is still a pirate, but it's all on a much smaller scale. He's still got the 'Red Emperor' epithet, but his reputation is much more Robin Hood of the seas. The Red Force gets into small tussles with other pirates more often than the Marines, and really, as long as they have food and alcohol on board they are all perfectly fine just sailing and enjoying their freedom. No one ever knows where the Red Force is at any given time, but they are known to show up when natural disasters strike, not to plunder the remains, but to help the people rebuild long before the Marines get around to offer their help (once the Marines show up on the horizon the Red Force clears out, a couple shots are exchanged, none of them ever hit). Garp tried to yell them into joining the Marines more than once, really Shanks could even stay captain and keep his ship and crew, he just needs to fly the Marine flag, but they all simply laugh and wave as they go off again to who knows where.

However, there is one week every year, where everyone knows exactly where the Red Force will be. Shanks won't ever miss his chance to duel Mihawk in the grand fencing tournament a couple islands over from Mihawk's home. As opposed to Mihawk, who has his fixed position as defending champion, Shanks fights his way through the other contenders every year. He leans into the pirate reputation, taunting opponents, refusing protective gear, tiptoe-ing the line to breaking the rules. The people love to hate him, it's a spectacle every time. The grand finale inevitably is a duel between Mihawk and Shanks, even after Shanks lost his arm (he sat out for a year and people thought that was the end. They were very relieved when Shanks made his over the top entrance again the year after).

They have long abandoned the actual fencing rules and equipment during the finale. People clap and scream when Mihawk steps on stage carrying Yoru, the black blade just as legendary as his own reputation. Shanks never fails to grin and deliver a witty one liner (the people's boo is part of the performance) and then they lunge. Watching that fight is exhilarating. No protective gear, real blades, and two absolute masters going at each other with a force that would leave less competent fighters with the gravest of wounds. It's every bit as real as it is a performance. Everyone knows Mihawk will win before they even start, and the people can recognise a small collection of moves that they build in every time, the more flashy and wide swipes that could easily be punished but never are. It's not simply about Mihawk winning and Shanks losing, it's about witnessing a piece of history being brought back to life right in front of their eyes.

The fencing tournament has always been held within the context of the summer solstice, and with Mihawk and Shanks putting on their show its become a part of a bigger festival that focusses on celebrating history and old rites, the origins of which aren't always known anymore. Every year after the finale they throw a huge feast, traditional food all over, as historically accurate to a long past pirate era as it can get (Mihawk makes sure of it, that history PHD has to be good for something), dressing up accordingly is very much encouraged. Shanks and Mihawk keep carrying their blades and play up their daring villain and chivalrous hero act and no one thinks twice about drinking with the Red Hair Pirates (they have amazing stories to tell). Usually Mihawk ends up in the middle of a group of kids and answers all kinds of history questions, all professor like, but in his full on historical get up. Shanks catches a glimpse of him and sighs dreamily and all the people he's jokingly been flirting with and threatening to kidnap as part of his role know that they're talking to a very much taken man. They enjoy his company anyway and talk to him about what it is like to raise a kid out at sea as they watch Perona and Uta tease Zoro in the distance.

What people don't know, is that the Red Force winters. Pretty much everyone aside from a volunteer skeleton crew leaves the ship for home during the winter months.

No one in town mentions to outsiders that the Red Emperor stays with the Strongest Swordsman up in Kuraigana castle. Why would they? They're great with the kids. And Uta singing with Brook during the Baratie winter solstice celebration sells out the house every time (the townsfolk get a cheeky 50% off that day, it's a community event after all [except for Mihawk. His filthy rich ass can pay double and wouldn't notice {he does pay double. He does notice. He does not care}]).

- Rosinante & Law -

Because I can't help myself and I love thinking about Rosinante together with MiShanks, this story's active events that would make up a proper fic make it a CoraMiShanks story, which starts with Cora-san and Law arriving in town. (Rosinante is genuinely a situational mute in this one, and Law's illness is a bit less horrifying, and potentially cured/managed with medicine.) They're on assignment from Doflamingo who heard that there's a spot that has gone unfilled in the island's underworld and wants to take full advantage of the opportunity to weasel into Crocodile's operations.

Little does Doffy know that: a) Corazón accepted the assignment so he could get away from him; b) Corazón insisted on taking Law because he's still working on getting Law's illness cured; [c) {depending on if Devil Fruits exist} Corazón may have secretly taken the Ope Ope no Mi on his way out;] d) Dracule Mihawk personally checks out every newcomer in town and seems to know much more than he reasonably should; e) Dracule Mihawk loves kids and bonds with Rosinante in a single meeting that included him pulling Law out of a lake; f) gods damned Dracule Mihawk directly protects Crocodile's operations in a infuriating 'someone will do it so I pick the smallest evil' mindset and Crocodile is so damn smug about it; g) fucking Dracule Mihawk decides to keep Rosinante and Law under his protection; h) and WHERE DID THE FUCKING RED EMPEROR COME FROM???

Doffy is seething at his plans foiled. Crocodile laughs at him, tells him to go pound sand and uses the opportunity to poach a couple of Doffy's operatives. Doffy has no choice but to retreat and plot his vengeance for later.

[ropes3amthoughts]

DunMeshi fanfic authors/fan artists, have Senshi and Kabru cook together and my life is yours

[aldiwali]

CH 362: EBB TIDE

Miss Goldenweek's Operation: Meet Baroque Works Vol. 4 - "Let's Go To Prison!!"

[wisecrackingeric-2]

@hamartia-grander i started laughing so fucking hard i CRIED i want this engraved onto my tombstone

[maroonmused]

i just felt the need to share that reading ur fics killed my writers block and now i have to fight the urge to write silly fanfiction when i need to do actual Work… why was i put on this world to suffer……….. also i adore how you write wade and logans interactions and how u write them both Ok im embarrassing myself byeeee

curing someone else’s writer’s block actually made me feel so much better about currently fighting my own right now, thank you for sharing this with me AND for reading my fics 😭 also felt,, work during a block week is less painful but when you have solid ideas & dialogue finally banging around in your brain and STILL have work…an issue that plagues our planet 💔

thank you so much anon and none of this was embarrassing i kind of think it’s exactly what i needed to hear today and hope you have a wonderful week!!

[themynock]

Z is so unhinged these last few episodes and honestly it's one of the most deeply relatable portrayals of when you're having a total crisis but you still have to keep on trucking (literally, in Neoscum's case) and hold it together and get stuff done but you're not really going to be able to be normal about any of it

[nabaath-areng]

Telling Vayne about the strict and rigid dictatorship I ran in Sims 2 when I was 8 years old and detailing the handwritten rules I made to then being told in response that Satan will make me the chief community organizer of hell. The hell homeowners association president (Their words, not mine)

[chaosmultiverse]

@dementedspeedster

Bart had a deep frown, his glare at Thad wasn't quite hateful and it wasn't pitiful either, he didn't pity Thad... No that wasn't the right word.

"It isn't pity. You can think whatever. I just... It's unfair, it was unfair for you and it sucks ass for me." Bart crossed his arms and his body turned so it was facing the side, not really away but not facing him, though his head was still very much turned to look at Thad, he knew very much better than to turn his back on Thad.

"So I'd say it's pretty sad, but whatever. I wasn't really expecting a... I dunno, a constructive conversation, it's sorta like screaming at a brick wall with you, ya know?" Bart hadn't really meaned to run into Thad, but... Admittedly dealing with Thad be it fights or these... Going no where conversations it was a decent way of venting some anger.

[torgawl]

do you think part of the reason diluc still struggles with his resentment towards kaeya is because kaeya is more like what crepus wished diluc to be? crepus was so proud of diluc for his accomplishments as a knight and lived his dream through him as well and we know how much crepus' approval meant for diluc, more than any title or doing. i sometimes wonder if diluc feels hurt knowing that kaeya gets to live the equivalent to his past life as a knight as if nothing happened when he had to make sacrifices for his own peace of mind and sense of justice. i wonder if that's what pains him the most, not the fact kaeya ommited the truth about his past for so many years but having felt like he was the only one who cared to do something regarding his father's death and who showed any sense of uprightness when confronted with the knights' request to cover their mistake and negligence. i always think about how diluc might have felt like everything was a lie and his sense of betrayal. but maybe that didn't matter as much as having the support of his brother and someone he could share his pain with would have mattered. maybe the worst thing wasn't what kaeya did but what he didn't do; maybe it was never about his actions but the lack thereof.

[sirendeepity]

Changing my phone wallpaper/cover is a nightmare because no I don't know what I want but I know I don't want that

[riding-with-the-wild-hunt]

vetted fundraisers from today. please continue to give support to families like these in whatever capacities you can, they are suffering such unfathomable deprivation and grief.

july 18th:

Safaa, her husband, their baby son Amir, and Safaa's parents, who both urgently need medical treatment ($1,086/$75,000) - @safaamiroo, verified by @/90-ghost

Amira Alanqar, her two siblings, and their mother, who needs treatment for diabetes (Amira is solely responsible for her family after the loss of their father) (€14,484/€20,000) - @amira-world, verified by @/nabulsi

Ashraf Alanqar, his wife Widad Issa, and their little son Bakr (€8,974/€30,000) - @ashraf-family, verified by @/90-ghost

Wafaa Alnhal's family of 15, including four young children and a newborn (the family has already lost multiple members, including Wafaa's sister and teenage niece) (€34,690/€50,000) - @wafa-nahll, #171 on @/el-shab-hussein and @/nabulsi's spreadsheet

Widow Hadeel Abu Jiab and her family of 12, including three young children (Najwa who was orphaned, Samira who needs treatment for vision problems, and Almas who is in severe shock) and Hadeel's injured mother and brother (€2,814/€20,000) - @palestinianhadeel, verified by @/90-ghost

Salahaldin Hor, his wife Sundus, and their three young daughters, two of whom have been injured (€1,946/€40,000) - @salahaldinhor, verified by @/90-ghost

Islam Al-Najjar and his family (€15/€30,000) - @islamgazaaccount2, verified by @/90-ghost

The Ayyad family of eight, including a sick child who needs treatment to save her sight (CHF3,753/CHF60,000) - @basel-1995, @amanyayyad, #214 on @/nabulsi and @/el-shab-hussein's spreadsheet

Mohammed Atallah (needs urgent surgery after being shot with an explosive bullet) and his family of 11, including a toddler and a newborn (€3,205/€82,000) - @mohammed-atallah, verified by @/90-ghost

Ola Ahel, her four siblings, and their parents ($7,308/$20,000) - @olagaza, #205 on @/el-shab-hussein and @/nabulsi's spreadsheet

Yousef, a toddler who needs lifesaving treatment for a severe blood disease, and his parents (€4,080/€25,000) - @dima96yousef, verified by @/90-ghost

Nour Ashour, her husband, and their two little children, including Muhammad, who needs continuous treatment for disabilities relating to birth asphyxia (£55/£80,000) - @nourashour33, verified by @/90-ghost

Hala Daoud (needs vital treatment for multiple sclerosis) and her three children (€180/€17,000) - verified by @/frostedforestfairy (contact for more details)

Helping Tawfik Satoom continue his education ($902/$20,000) - @tawfiksatooom, #238 on the operation olive branch spreadsheet

Ahmed Alanqar, his wife Dina, and their four young children, one a newborn (€31,345/€35,000) - @ahmedabuyamin, #174 on @/nabulsi and @/el-shab-hussein's spreadsheet

Helping Siraj Abudayeh, his wife, and their three young children rebuild their treasured home ($6,972 CAD/$82,000 CAD) - @siraj2024, #219 on @/el-shab-hussein and @/nabulsi's spreadsheet

Shimaa, her husband Abdel, and their little daughter Juri (€386/€50,000) - @shimaashaban22, @abdelmutei, verified by @/90-ghost

5-year-old Nour, her three sisters (all suffering from malnutrition), their parents, and their grandmother ($373/$25,000) - @nourbader2019, verified by @/90-ghost

not yet vetted:

Salem Anqar, his wife Hadeel, their two little children, Salim's five siblings (three of whom are children), and their chronically ill parents (kr1,022 SEK/kr990,000) - @salemanqar

Mohammed Ayyad and his family of seven, five of whom are children (Mohammed lost his mother when she was not able to evacuate for medical care) (€11,473/€35,000) - @mohammedayyad

The Eleyan family of 18, including eight children, one a newborn (€3,185/€50,000)

Doctor Mohammed Shurrab, his wife, their child, and ten extended family members (€435/€100,000) - @684599

a small amount of your time and effort can have an immeasurable impact. please don't scroll past without engaging in some way, it really makes a difference

[musicrunsthroughmysoul]

If I ever again tried to argue with my best friend over the meaning of "Rain Dance" by Big Country I think she would scream at me "LILY, YOU ARE SO FUCKING LITERAL."

[impyssadobsessions]

I played through all the Devil May Cry games- and one LOVE the series >:UUUUUU So perfect. And two- I immediately like amg Danny would fit with these cast of characters XDDDD so uh. I have an idea ;3 of Danny being brought into this world because Pariah Dark is deciding to draw power from his "home" to take over both realms. And Danny has to find a guy name Dante and beat Pariah. ;3 Danny's powers shifting to work more in devil may cry universe- maybe even hinting that perhaps he didn't die in that portal because his blood was not fully human ;3 OH And the sword- is actually Fright Knight's sword- Soul Shredder that he gains after defeating a fright knight that was forced back into servitude. Also think it be cool if he had a weapon from the reapers >:O- so a giant pair of scissor blades >w< (I've been simmering over this for a month- I even made a comic ;3) The Devil Trigger concepts are based from demon forms- from the reaper/ghost like demons- and then from nero's form too. So simmering uou. But I like to relate Danny to death because of his "ghostliness". Link to Comic:

[earthyaries]

WAYS U CAN PLEASE SATURN ACCORDING TO UR SATURN PLACEMENT ♄

1H/ARIES SATURN: RESPECT URSELF. DO NOT ALTER UR BOUNDARIES TO BE LIKED. SELF IMPROVEMENT. PUT EFFORT INTO UR BODY/APPEARANCE. WORKOUT / BE ACTIVE. HEALTHY COMPETITION. PRACTICE OFTEN. BE CONFIDENT BUT NOT ABOVE OTHERS. SLOW DOWN. SELF GROWTH. DELIBERATE ACTIONS.

2H/TAURUS SATURN: DEVELOP STRONG VALUES. DO NOT UNDERMINE URSELF. QUALITY OVER QUANTITY. INTENTIONAL SPENDING. HEALTHY RELATIONSHIP WITH FOOD. TRY NOT TO OVERINDULGE ; TRY NOT TO WASTE. STOP SELF SABOTAGING. NO SELF DEPRECATING. APPRECIATE WHAT U HAVE. EXPRESS GRATITUDE. DONATE WHAT U CAN.

3H/GEMINI SATURN: THINK BEFORE U SPEAK ; SPEAK LESS THAN U DESIRE. STOP OVERSHARING. FOCUS ON UR CRAFT ; GET RID OF THE DISTRACTIONS. POWER IN THE TONGUE. PERSONAL MOTTOS. STAND FOR WHAT IS MORAL ; BE WELL INFORMED. HAVE HARD CONVOS WHEN NECESSARY. BE A SUPPORTIVE FRIEND. STOP COMPLAINING. FIND SOLUTIONS. ADAPT & OVERCOME.

4H/CANCER SATURN: CREATE BOUNDARIES & STICK TO THEM. BE OF SERVICE TO OTHERS WITHOUT SELF SACRIFICE. DO NOT BE OVERLY SELFISH. EXPRESS UR NEEDS. TAKE CARE OF UR MENTAL HEALTH. EMOTIONAL REGULATION. SELF CARE. BE SELECTIVE OF UR INNER CIRCLE. POUR INTO UR LOVED ONES. TREAT OTHERS WITH KINDNESS. KEEP UR LIVING SPACE CLEAN.

5H/LEO SATURN: LET GO OF SELF DOUBT. BRING UR VISION TO LIFE. MASTER UR CRAFT. BELIEVE IN URSELF & WORK TOWARDS UR GOALS. GET RID OF UR NEED FOR OUTSIDE APPROVAL. LOOK OUT FOR THE CHILDREN ; BE THE PERSON U NEEDED GROWING UP. WORK HARD, PLAY HARD. DELAYED GRATIFICATION.

6H/VIRGO SATURN: FOLLOW A ROUTINE. HEALTHY HABITS. STRUCTURE. KEEP UR SPACES ORGANIZED ; DE-CLUTTER. BE A FRIEND TO ANIMALS. TAKE GOOD CARE OF UR PET/S. PUT IN THE WORK EVERY DAY. OFFER A HELPING HAND. HONOR UR OWN TIME & ENERGY ; DO NOT ENGAGE IN ONE-SIDED RELATIONS.

7H/LIBRA SATURN: MAKE UR OWN DECISIONS. TAKE ACCOUNTABILITY. CRACK DOWN ON CO-DEPENDENCY ; AVOID SELF ISOLATION. LONGTERM RELATIONS. BE THE BIGGER PERSON. FORGIVE BUT DON’T FORGET. APPLY LESSONS FROM THE PAST. TREAD LIGHTLY. RESPECT THOSE WHO CAME BEFORE YOU. FORM LASTING ALLIANCES.

8H/SCORPIO SATURN: KEEP THINGS TO URSELF. STAY PRIVATE. PRACTICE SELF CONTROL. RESILIENCE IN THE FACE OF HARDSHIP. HOPE FOR THE BEST, PREPARE FOR THE WORST. SAVINGS/RAINY DAY RESOURCES. EMBRACE CHANGE. LEARN TO LET GO. RADICAL ACCEPTANCE. SEXUAL DISCIPLINE. XTRA EMPHASIS ON SAFE SEX!

9H/SAGITTARIUS SATURN: PRACTICE UR BELIEFS. WALK THE TALK. MANTRAS. LEARN FROM OTHERS ; COME TO UR OWN CONCLUSIONS. STUDY. BE AN ETERNAL STUDENT. ALLOW URSELF TO BE OUT OF UR ELEMENT. RESPECT OTHER CULTURES. MAKE UR OWN TRADITIONS. STAY HUMBLE. ACCEPT MULTIPLE TRUTHS. APPLY WHAT WORKS.

10H/CAPRICORN SATURN: KEEP UR EYES ON THE PRIZE. TRUST THAT ALL THINGS COME IN DUE TIME. KEEP URSELF MOTIVATED. WORK FOR WHAT U WANT. STAY CONSISTENT. PERSONAL LEGACY ; THINGS THAT LAST. BECOME UR OWN ROLE MODEL. DO IT URSELF / DO IT RIGHT. LIVE WITH KARMA IN MIND.

11H/AQUARIUS SATURN: LEAD THE WAY ; FURTHER THE CAUSE. BETTER THE COMMUNITY— CREATE UR OWN. BE CONSCIOUS OF WHOM U ASSOCIATE URSELF WITH. BEFRIEND PPL OLDER THAN URSELF. LONGTERM FRIENDSHIPS. LONGTERM RESULTS. ADVANCEMENT. NETWORKING. ONLINE INFLUENCE. SET THE STANDARD.

12/PISCES SATURN: ALL IN MODERATION. HEALTHY COPING METHODS & LIFESTYLE PRACTICES. CONSIDERATION. REFLECTION ; SELF AWARENESS. THERAPY. STANDARDS. LEAVE ONCE DISRESPECTED. NO FAKE FRIENDS. MIND OVER MATTER. MANIFESTATION. BE REAL WITH URSELF. SELF TRUST.

[chirpsythismorning]

And their extras were also both there that day.

Will double's is in the blue plaid while Will is in the yellow.

Also note El and her double are wearing the milkshake stained dress…

I was thinking about how again, it makes no sense to have Noah on set at that location, wearing the yellow plaid and bowl-cut wig, if he was not in fact filming at that location. While the production did spend a month renovating that location, they only spent 4 days actually filming there.

While it's not uncommon to do multiple shoots simultaneously at different locations in one day, it's can get very expensive. It requires a lot of manpower to have all those trucks lined up and a bunch of people hired for security and all the other duties required to keep things going smoothly.

So to have a lead actor leave another set and then go to another location, at least 30 or so minutes away, in costume and everything... I just don't see that being very likely.

Because they wanted to get the Rink-O-Mania shoot done fairly quickly, it's likely most of their location shooting in those 4 days was isolated to that location, at least in terms of those actors being expected at that location only because of all the scenes they might have had to cover in that short time.

And reminder, they also had Will's double there that day, who they wouldn't have had present unless they truly needed him, in the case they needed a stand-in to prepare certain shots or film shots that involved Will not actually being seen head on. But what shots would they need for a blue plaid Will, if Will himself wasn't even wearing his blue plaid? If they both just came from a shoot at a different location, wouldn't they be wearing the same thing?

Which brings me right to the implications of a Vecna vision. I don't think it would be a case of El's situation with Nina, because this isn't the same. Nor do I think it will operate in the same way it did as for Vecna's curse victims in s4. I mean, this is Will we're talking about. He already has a connection to the mindflayer, and that sort of connection is bound to make a trick coming from Vecna look a little bit differently.

When it comes to what I think could theoretically go down, I think it's most likely going to stem from a moment that involved Will being isolated at Rink-o-Mania. It allows going into this memory in s5 work a lot more smoothly, because we'd be able to see him in s4 in a way we remember, and then transition a lot easier into him in s5. It would also make sense to need a stand-in for s4 Will isolated, and then have s5 Will watching from a distance behind his past self in this memory.

The first moment would that comes to mind is early on in the afternoon (right around the time we get those shots of the birthday tables) when they're all skating together. We see Will by himself trailing behind Mike and El on the rink (Angela's POV). But tbh that looks like Noah to me and not like the double, considering it is also clearly Millie and Finn in front of him, but still I guess we can't know for sure.

But then there's this other shot that I find even more interesting...

We've talked about how the lights in Rink-O-Mania above the rink look very similar to the mindflayer, which parallels with Max's memory of the snowball, which also has lights that look like the mindflayer.

It's both of the settings in big block letters feat. a disco-ball at the center for me

We know they were being watched that day at the end of s2, with the lyrics in the background literally saying I'll be watching you, along with the mindflayer just outright watching over them from the UD at that very moment.

And then we have Rink-O-Mania, which starts with the kids piling out of the van and going inside, only for Jon to stop Will, with him turning around looking hopeful, only for Jon to tell him to have fun and with Will looking disappointed before turning away.

Most of us understandably read Jon's expression afterwards as him feeling bad for Will, now that he's starting to figure out for certain that Will is in fact gay and in love with Mike. And yet there's also this eeriness to it. Jon doesn't just look like he's experiencing pity or understanding, he honestly ends that shot looking like he is forgetting something...

And then we get that lyric in the background right then: I've got to have my way now, baby.

Mind you, what followed this moment was a disastrous afternoon at Rink-O-Mania, filled with signs that it was Will's birthday...

If it was Will's birthday that day (I'm like 99% sure at this point that it was), then this IS coming back. Like it's a given.

And I honestly don't see them holding off until mid-season or until the end of s5 to bring up the fact that it was Will's birthday, only now trying to open up fans to realizing what happened and how it is going to have an impact on Will. That was a heavy storyline last season, and they'll need to wrap it up to move on to where that storyline is going to take us.

Not to mention birthdaygate is something fans just cannot accept even as a possiblity right now. Fans needed it to be something outright acknowledged in s4. All the birthday references were not enough for them. And I would agree in the sense that I think bc it wasn't confronted in s4, it's something that they have to confront us with pretty quickly in s5, so that when rewatching we can go 'Oh shit! Here were all the signs leading up to what is about to hit us right now in s5!' It makes those details worthwhile because fans only had to wait 1 episode into the following season to have it acknowledged.

Another detail I find interesting, is that Noah is wearing black roller skates here. Initially I thought they could be his own personal skates, and that is still possible. But if dude had the time to put on personal skates, he had the time to change out of his costume to avoid risking messing up the hair and the clothes. Or he could have just put on any of the skates afforded to all the actors on set, similar to the other three alongside him in this bts.

But now honestly, after actually thinking about it, the black skates make me think this could be a vision/nightmare. It's something that feels isolated and wrong. Like, yes we're here, but something isn't right. It's not Will in his Cali fit in some skates from Rink-O-Mania, it's Will in what he was wearing in Hawkins at the end of s4, witnessing this in a vision, meaning it would make more sense to throw the black ones on him to hint that something is off (AKA THIS ISN'T REAL!).

I could literally picture a POV shot of Will all disoriented coming to, opening his eyes as he's looking down at his skates, while the audience is watching like 'Wait! What? Why is he--? WAIT WHATS GOING ON!?!?' Only for us to see Will witnessing himself in the past from behind in this memory of the events that day, with him watching what's going down with El on the rink.

CAN YALL SEE THE VISION OF THIS VISION?

Another thing about this shot and this scene in general, is that it parallels another scene in s4, when El is confronted by Angela and the others after school, where Will is looking from a distance, frozen.

It's worth noting these parallels and connections are meant to exist, leading up to El discovering the 'truth' about what happened in the massacre.

And considering we have Will lurking in the corner of that final shot with El at the very end, when Mike parallels Brenner shouting during the massacre, makes me wonder if this memory/vision could involve some parallels that also start laying the groundwork for the truth about Will's connection to things in the past...

Someone noticed (here) that March 29, Billy's birthday, is also the day the Cali crew is back in Hawkins.

So, I'm thinking. We see the name Billy as Max is reading the letter, but the name William when she is in the Vecna vision. That could just mean different timelines, or maybe it's also a hint that the theory that Will is in a Vecna vision at the end of S4 is correct (here)

Maybe on March 29 Vecna goes into William's mind and what he sees from the moment he touches his neck is a vision (everything else is real) The end credit song, Spellbound, is definitely an interesting choice...

I would love it if S4 starts with a flashback of El in the lab, and ends with Will in a vision. Also, we know that S5 starts with a UD flashback, so:

4x01 -> lab flashback -> then El's letter, in which she lies about her life in Lenora

5x01 -> UD flashback -> then a vision, which is also a lie?

What would Vecna show Will? Maybe the day at Rink-o-mania. But I think this would be different from El's letter. This time we would see the truth, twisted by Vecna, like the truth about Max wishing her brother to die. Maybe Vecna would tell Will that he is jealous, and that the reason he didn't help El is that, deep down, he wants her to suffer.

Well, Will is jealous, but that's normal. It doesn't mean that he's cruel or doesn't love his sister. We see that in the van scene and in 4x09.

And how could Vecna show Will that he is jealous and wants to hurt his sister? Maybe by making him be the one who throws the milkshake on her dress.

Remember the BTS photo of Noah at Rink-o-mania in his 4x09 outfit? The boy behind him and Millie is the actor who plays Jake, or his double. Jake is the one who throws the milkshake on El's dress. Jake has a bowl cut and kinda resembles Will.

So, maybe Noah was wearing his 4x09 here because this is the vision scene, and this time he's the one who humiliates El.

I could be wrong, but I think this would be a very interesting parallel with the beginning of S4. And a way to make Will more vulnerable

@chirpsythismorning @shippingfangirl013

[astarionancuntnin]

Remember Me

summary: you cant make sense of where you are or even how you ended up in this cell, hells, you're not even sure of who you are at this point; any memories of your past are a blur. its all the more confusing when a group of adventurers come rescue you, and a particularly worried pale elf takes it upon himself to help you remember who you are.

rating: E

word count: 7k

pairing: astarion x you (fem!reader, reader is tav)

cw: 18+. angst, act 3 spoilers related to astarion's side quest, mentions of kidnaping and torture, memory loss, blood feeding, vampire bites, smut, oral (f!receiving), p in v, The Leg Thing followed by mating press, sweet love making, love confession. full list on ao3

a/n: loosely based on this audio (18+) from OGY.

read on ao3

my masterlist

or keep reading down below~

Pain.

It’s the first thing that hit you when your consciousness came back to you.

How much everything fucking hurt.

Your entire body felt as if it had gone through the nine Hells, all at once; you could barely find the strength in yourself to get to your feet, let alone push yourself off the ground.

Then it was the disarray when you couldn’t place what had happened for you to feel so awful.

It was as if you had woken up from a long sleep; distant voices in your head, blurry faces merging together when you closed your eyes, and an awful feeling of emptiness, as if you had forgotten something extremely important but you couldn’t put your finger on it, no matter how much you thought about it.

Nothing but endless darkness.

As much as you tried to remember your life, anything before this moment, you were met with a dark fog clouding your vision. Your family, your friends — if you even had any — had all vanished from your memory. You think you remember yourself, for the most part, but even that was a stretch; you couldn’t even remember your own bloody name.

You look around you, realising for the first time that you were in a prison cell. The course of events after waking up in this dark cell hadn’t helped; the sudden cold inhabiting you, followed by this man — this monster — barging in without as much as a warning before pushing you face first against the ground and ripping open your shirt, to then torture you as he carved your back with his knife, only to leave as suddenly as he had appeared. Barely a few words exchanged, aside from some mumbling about teaching “him” a lesson, whoever that was, and you were alone once again.

Alone, with nothing but this seething pain in your back from the butchery you had gone through, the hunger digging into your belly, and your blood leaking from your shivering form, pooling around you on the cold, hard floor.

You barely had the time to gather your thoughts when the same man came back barely minutes later to carry you out of your cell and into a larger room — keeping you restrained with some magic that visibly came from his staff — where more people waited.

By the looks of it, you had been right on one thing: this was indeed a dungeon, and you were located in the deepest part of them; this room contained only a round, rock platform, located above an endless, foggy pit.

In the state you were in, you couldn’t catch everything he said as he went on a monologue. Something about powers, freedom; whatever it was, they needed you to achieve it, that was the only thing that was clear from his speech. You couldn’t understand how any of them would follow a maniac like him, but in their eyes you noticed how they listened to his words with as much fear as awe.

Your form was shivering from the cold; you wanted to cover up your top which had been previously ripped off from your body, but it was all in vain: the restraints of his magic kept you in place, and right after his speech, you were sent flying over a designated spot floating above the ground, just like all the six other people that had surrounded you previously.

Your arms remained bound to your sides by whatever spell this monster had cast on you, leaving your chest exposed to the damp, cool air of this dungeon, and your fresh wound stinging evermore at your back.

You remember the panic tightening in your chest when you realised you couldn't escape. You remember the brief relief, hope even, at the sight of a group of adventurers approaching — one of the figures shouting at the man in the middle of the room — followed by explosions and screams. Then the fear settled in when you saw them execute one of the other unfortunate souls magically held floating around this room, one new truth forming in your mind.

They weren’t here to save you.

You would be next. They would kill you. You would die here.

The pressure in your chest grew tighter as you closed your eyes and mourned your life, one you didn’t even remember experiencing, one that — you hope — had been full of adventures, of acquaintances… of love.

This last one must’ve been true. You remember being loved — more so how it felt, even if the feeling seemed so far and long ago. You remember the butterflies in your belly, the fluster in your heart, the heat between your legs; you remember just enough to know that if you died today, at least, you would’ve died as someone who had been loved.

You didn’t expect your feet to touch the cold hard ground once more. You remember falling to your knees, your body exhausted by the abuse it had gone through in just the last few hours. You remember your dry throat when you noticed the butchered corpse in the middle of the room, barely recognizable anymore.

“Gods… what has he done to you?”

But you couldn’t seem to place the face of your saviour. The bloodied, silver curled elf who had rushed to kneel next to you after defeating your captor, who approached you and held your face so carefully.

How those crimson eyes of his had widened in horror when you flinched at his touch and backed away.

Him and his group had killed one of you who stood in this circle, who’s to say he wasn’t here to finish the job? Lure you in with a sweet touch only to snap your head off; you knew better than to let yourself fall for the first man to approach you.

“Darling, it’s over now.” He had said with his voice low, getting back on his feet to approach you as if you were an injured beast, “Just take my hand, we’re getting out of here.”

You didn’t know whether to feel insulted or reassured by his assertiveness, but you remained frozen in place, your eyes switching from the hand extended out to you and his severe look that you reciprocated with a frown to hide your terror.

“Look,” he sneered, “you can either take my hand, come with me out of this hellhole, or rot away in this godsforsaken—”

From behind him, someone from his group called out a name which stopped him mid-sentence just as his tone was rising.

“Astarion.”

A name that felt oddly familiar, despite the void in your memories. It danced beautifully as it echoed across the room and around your mind; there was something about it that just sounded right.

Astarion. A name worthy of being written in the stars, you find yourself thinking, the sound of it bringing you a familiar sense of peace, of security.

Astarion. Maybe if you repeated it enough in your head, something clearer would come up. Maybe, just maybe, then you would remember.

He took a deep breath and continued, which brought you back from your reverie, “I’m quite certain you went through the Hells and back, but for now, I’ll have to ask you to trust me, just as you’ve done in the past. Can you do that for me?”

He extended out his hand once more, this time a request rather than a command, his voice carrying out his concerns, “Can you trust me?”

“Why would I trust someone I’ve just met?” You wanted to ask, but something about the way he asked struck a chord, as if you did know him. As if you knew he spoke true when he said you used to trust him, and you finally accepted the hand he held out to you.

A hand that pulled you to your feet, and guided you out of this dreadful place.

You were given a cloak to cover your shivering form, and you walked along with them back to their camp. Back to this intriguing, yet charming man’s tent, where they all agreed you should rest for the night.

The first thing that hit you when you stepped in was the smell.

You didn’t know what it was exactly, you couldn’t recognize it, but it was intoxicating; it only made your stomach churn more. As the adrenaline of the previous hour settled down, you fell to your knees, grabbing onto your waist as the pain that had been muted came back screaming through your guts.

“Shit—” He rushed down to check on you, with one hand down your back, holding onto you, “Darling, talk to me, what’s wrong?”

“What isn’t wrong?! I was tortured, starved off, almost sacrificed for all I know, and I can’t even remember who I fucking am!” Is what you wanted to say, but all you could manage out is a groan in the middle of your sobs.

When you lifted your head, your eyes fell onto the set of messily arranged bottles from where the strong smell came from, and a quick exchange of glances told him everything he needed to know.

“Of course, you’re hungry,” He sighed heavily, "Look, I’ll gladly offer you some from my own reserves — after I’ve taken a look at your wounds.”

You had almost forgotten about them.

You averted your eyes from his gaze, your mind now racing as you expected the worst. You had no way to see what had been done to your back, but the pain you had gone through was a good indicator of how bad it would look.

Met with your silence, he continued, “I need… to see what he’s done to you. Please.”

Your eyes went back and forth between him and the dark bottles briefly considering pouncing on them to get a taste as your mouth watered in anticipation, but you reluctantly turned your back to him as you sat with your legs pressed back into your stomach, barely helping mitigate the pain in your stomach.

As you let the cloak fall from your shoulders, you heard nothing but a shaky, deflated sigh behind you. Seconds of silence passed before you considered turning around, but a part of you was terrified of the look you would find on his face.

You finally found the strength to utter your first words.

“Is it… that bad?” Your voice was rough from neglect, as the last time you had used it had been to scream when you received this torture.

You heard him take a deep breath, shaking away the shock that had previously rendered him speechless, “You must’ve already known what he carved away in your back. Hells, I knew before even looking, but seeing it…” he pauses, his tone quieting, “seeing it is another story completely.”

“I… I don’t know,” you muster with a weak voice. It's true, you had no idea, he had carved your damn back, you had no way to see the extent of his torture.

He took a deep breath, shaking away the feelings that had sneaked their way into his voice, “It’s no matter, it’s over now; Cazador is dead. He won’t hurt—” he paused, as if processing the information himself, “Anyone, ever again.”

You turned around to face him this time, “Who’s Cazador?”

He huffed, “I’m glad it was that easy for you to forget about him, but when you’ve suffered under his hand for nearly two centuries, the memories tend to linger.”

You remained silent as you stared at him, just as shocked as you were confused by his words. When he noticed your stare, his face twisted in concern, “Oh shit, you’re serious.”

You nodded silently.

He continued, tentatively, “He was my master, he’s the one we killed back in the dungeons — the one who abducted you, who did this to you. Do you not remember any of this?”

You shook your head slightly, never leaving his gaze.

“Oh dear.” His voice dropped as his eyebrows raised and his eyes widened all at once, “Do you remember anything at all — the absolute, our adventure… Do you remember… me?”

His eyes went back and forth between yours, as if he was searching them for any sign of recognition, looking for you, whoever you were behind those confused, teary eyes. You gave him another shy shake of your head, followed by a single tear coming down your cheek, a tear you weren’t sure why it was shed; whether it was from the loss of yourself, or the mourning of something you didn’t even remember having.

“Gods…” He breathed out heavily as his sight left you, his mind visibly ruminating. “He can’t… He couldn’t have… He…”

His tone suddenly changed as he growled, “That monster.”

He closed his eyes and shook his head before looking back at you, “You were with us just yesterday. You were — are this group’s leader. If… If you have no memories of your mortal life then it means…” he looked away, frowning, “He rushed your transformation to replace me in the ritual.”

None of the words he had said made any sense to you, “Transformation?”

He turned back to you to be met with your visible confusion, and he explained further, “Normally, when you’re turned, you need to be drained of your blood and buried six feet underground, before you can crawl out of your tomb to be reborn. This process takes a day, usually, and when you awaken, you are still you, but immortal and bound to your master,” he spat out the last word like it left a bitter aftertaste on his tongue.

“Now you,” he continues, “you were turned within twelve hours, which would explain why your eyes are only half red, why your fangs haven’t come out yet, and…” his voice quieted down, “why you have no memories of your past. As if the rushed transformation had actually killed this part of you along with your humanity.”

You remained focused on the first thing he had said: your eyes had changed colour?

You hadn’t had the chance to look at yourself since your awakening and if not remembering your name wasn’t anxiety inducing enough, you realised you couldn’t even recall what you looked like.

All of a sudden, panic rushed its way into your heart; you needed to see yourself. You frantically looked around the tent to find anything that could send back your reflection and practically jumped on the pocket mirror when you spotted it nearby Astarion.

Only the mirror was broken. It must’ve been; it reflected nothing.

“If that wasn’t obvious by now, this should’ve clarified things a bit,” he said.

He lowered the mirror you still held in front of you, expecting your image to be reflected eventually, maybe at a different angle, maybe with more light. Maybe another one would, maybe you were just delirious from everything that had happened only today.

“You’re a vampire now. No matter the angle, you’ll never see your reflection come out of this mirror. Believe me, I’ve tried.”

Vampire.

The word didn’t make sense; nothing made sense.

Yet, when you parted your lips to let your tongue run against your teeth; you found your canines the same size they were, that they should’ve been, but they were much sharper than what would be considered normal and you almost pierced your tongue from the gesture.

“Maybe…” he carried on, lost in thought, “there’s even a chance that the tadpole has been messing around with more of the changes your body is going through.”

“Tadpole?” You interjected, your head shaking of its own in disbelief. “What?”

He huffed in astonishment, “So you really do remember nothing.”

You sighed, “I— I don’t… As much as I try, I’m met with a void of memories. The only thing remotely familiar since I woke up has been… you.” His eyes had gone soft and bright with hope, but also melancholy. “I don’t know who you were to me, and I don’t know why, but some part of me knew I could trust you.”

He chuckled, a sad smile finding its way over his lips, “Even with your memories gone, it seems I can’t leave your mind, can I?”

You gave him a smile of your own, “Would you mind… reminding me of my life? Of us?”

“Gods, where to start, darling. Would you believe me if I told you our story began with me holding a knife to your throat?”

You found yourself smiling unconsciously, “With everything that's happened to me in the last few hours, I find that easy to believe.”

“And strangely enough it's probably the least odd part of our story.” He tilted his head, giving you a genuine smile before carrying on.

“It’s all tedious, really, but… There’s one memory I want to tell you about: The night of the tiefling party. Ugh, it was dreadful for the most part; the wine tasted like vinegar, the music was too loud, and there were too many of those bloody tieflings at our camp, to be quite sincere— “

“Not a people’s person I take it?”

“My dear, after years of being forced on and by people, the last thing you want is to be surrounded by more of them.” The sight of you parting your lips and raising your eyebrows told him you had also forgotten about this and he quickly caught onto it, changing the direction of the discussion back to the topic at hand. “But, there was one good thing that came out from this night: when we met in the woods. I had high hopes of you joining me there — although no doubts, of course — I was the most suitable option among our group after all.”

“Most suitable? Someone else wanted to spend the night with… me?”

“Darling, the whole world and their mother wanted a special moment with you. But only one of us got that honour. A chance to steal away with everyone’s new favourite leader.”

The faint sounds of the party fading: music echoing through the forest, people laughing, the cool air of a summer’s night breezing through, and good company throughout the night.

“I have been waiting for you. Waiting since the moment I first saw you. Waiting… to have you.”

You blinked, “You… were waiting for me in the woods, I’m— I’m remembering.”

“I did put a lot of effort into my entrance, I would be upset if you didn't remember it quite honestly.” You laughed softly. “Do you remember what happened afterwards?”

Your eyes roamed as you pushed the memory further, before you lifted your head to meet his gaze, “You… kissed me.”

“After you had the audacity to say I didn't have you yet while you had come to me of your own volition, yes, and then?”

You chuckled, but your smile quickly faded as your memory unlocked the next part of this puzzle. He looked at you with a knowing glint in his eyes; he was simply waiting for you to say it yourself.

“We made love.”

He sighed dramatically, “Love is such a big word for what happened back then, but…” his tongue clicked, accentuating the end of the word, “That was certainly the start of it. The start of a series of feelings that came and complicated everything. It’s what pushed me, soon after, to confess to you that it was all part of a silly plan I had to keep you in my favour. I was terrified, honestly, especially considering it was all because I initially manipulated you to fall for me…”

He paused, searching your expression before carrying on, and continued when he found nothing but soft eyes looking back. “But then — despite everything — there you were, holding me tight.”

He let go of a deep breath.

“For so long I had nothing — no one. And all of a sudden, there’s you, who held onto me, who cared so much more than anyone ever did. And I found myself not wanting to let go. I couldn't.”

He frowned, turning his gaze away, “And Cazador used that against me. As soon as he had word of my whereabouts in Baldur’s Gate and the crowd I was hanging out with, he jumped at the first chance to torture me once more. He probably thought I was unaffected by any physical pain he could impose on me by now, so he did the next worst thing: take it out on the one person I cared about in this wretched world.” He shook his head, “If we hadn’t gotten there in time—”

“But you did.” You interrupt. “You saved me and yourself in the process. This ritual wouldn’t have given you the freedom you think it carried.”

His eyes lit up, “You talk as if you knew what it entailed.”

You nodded, “It’s coming back to me, bit by bit. I remember what you told me about him. I remember the purpose of the ritual, and your plan to replace him and take his power instead.”

He sighed, “Gale thought brilliant to kill one of my brothers to stop Cazador from carrying on with the ritual. Bloody wizard didn’t realise it meant I couldn’t continue it myself then.

“Maybe he did.” His gaze flickered back to you in confusion before you continued, “You don’t need satanic powers to carry on, Astarion. You’re free now.”

He huffed, “And all it cost was my life in the sun.”

“Well,” you tilted your head, “It did cost me mine too. Once the tadpoles are gone, we’ll both be banished to the shadows once again. But we’ll be together, and that’s something at least.”

He rolled his eyes before landing them on you, “At least the transformation didn’t take away from your heartbleeding optimism, dear.”

You chuckled, “Thank the Gods for that— ugh!”

You clutched at your stomach, your body tilting forward in pain, and Astarion instantly knew the cause of your suffering; it’s something he recognized all too well.

“Hells, you must be starving. Gods know Cazador wouldn’t waste a single drop on a lowly spawn — no offence, dear.”

“None taken,” you forced a humourless laugh. “I shouldn’t have expected much considering I was to be cattle for a satanic ritual.”

He turned around and you kept a close eye on him as he handled the bottles beside him, pulling out a silver cup out of his bag of holding to pour you a portion.

“Here,” he sat back down, parting his legs open, extending one arm to you, “Come on love, sit back against me, would you?”

You stared unsure for a few seconds but obliged him. You scooted back until your back was fully resting against his chest, leaving no space lost between the two of you.

When he brought the cup forward you reached for it but he pulled back, clicking his tongue, “Oh no, my sweet, I will be the one to feed you tonight. This is your first time, we wouldn't want your primal instincts to take over now, would we?”

You turned around to stare at him for some time with incertitude and he simply tilted his head, with a sly smile, “Humour me, darling. You’ll be glad you did, hm?”

You pressed your lips together almost pouting, but acquiesced as you nestled yourself between his legs, your tense body laying against his chest once again.

He brought the cup to your mouth at long last, while his other hand held onto your chin. You gasped at his touch — while not unwelcome, it was a surprise — and you parted your lips to welcome your drink.

His hands were rough against your skin, yet there was a softness to it that made you melt under his touch. Made you want to push further into his hand to know how it would feel around your throat. It was almost enough to make you forget about the drink against your lips. Almost.

While the mere closeness of it had been invigorating, drinking it was ecstatic. It felt like your first meal in weeks, and it might as well have been with the pit that had replaced your stomach.

You took big gulps of the delectable nectar, barely pausing for air as you rushed to empty the cup’s content, eager to have your fill with this delicious substance.

“Slowly now darling,” he pulled the cup away from your lips and you gasped at the loss of your feeding source, “This is your first time feeding; I wouldn’t rush things.”

You frowned, but complied; even if you were starving, he had over two hundred years of experience with this form — you barely had a few hours. Your mind wasn’t all there yet either, and it's true that you couldn’t trust those new primal instincts to be civil enough to drink responsibly.

You held onto the one truth you knew, one that was clear ever since the start: you trust him.

You eased back into him, letting him hold you and guide you throughout your meal. The cup rested at a slightly down angle against your lips to allow you good mouthfuls of blood without overfeeding you all at once.

“There, good girl,” he purred. “You are doing so well for me, love. Small sips now, let your body recuperate from the shock.”

There was something about his voice that soothed you, brought you a peace of mind, a calm after this storm that had been your last few hours.

A shiver down your spine, that travelled all the way down between your legs.

You finished the content of the cup at a slower pace than you had started, soothed by his soft approach and the new blood filling your stomach, and he took this chance to explain more about your condition while pouring you another serving.

“Considering this is your first feeding, you’ll need a bit more to carry on until your next meal. Mind you, it’s normal if you don’t feel full; this is a curse, after all. The real challenge is to learn to live with your hunger.” He cleared his throat as he brought the cup back up to your lips, full again, “Alright now, open up, love.”

You hungrily parted your bloodied lips to welcome another serving.

“There, there, just like that.” A soft whimper left your throat between sips, and he caressed your cheek with his thumb, “Shhh, you're okay, you're doing just fine.” He leaned next to your head to whisper, “You’re perfect, my sweet.”

For a moment, you could swear you felt your heart beat anew.

You drank with his help until you finished one full bottle from his reserve, and with the pain in your stomach settling down, you allowed your body to relax against him. That’s when you felt something poking against your back, something you wanted to taste as much as the blood that had blessed your tongue just moments ago.

And he must’ve known, too.

“So, as you must’ve realised, your hunger was a side effect of the transformation. But what you’re feeling now, which I can very much smell on you, is a result of your feeding.”

If any of the blood you had ingested had made it in your veins by now, they must’ve all rushed to your cheeks at this very moment.

“Blood,” he continued, “Brings us back alive temporarily; it warms us, allows our hearts a few shy beating of their own, but it also reawakens other mortal pleasures. The first time it can be… a tad overwhelming.”

“It’s…” You hadn’t realised how quiet your heart had been until it started beating away once more in your chest; your cheeks felt warm, your breathing had accelerated, and your core was aching. You breathed out your reply, “It really is.”

As you turned your head aside, resting against his shoulder, and your eyes lingered over his lips, another primal urge awoke in you to devour him, in every way possible. You needed to taste him, his mouth, his blood, his come—

Until you were blessed with another sudden memory, and you turned away from his lips, gazing anywhere that wasn’t on him to stop yourself from acting irrationally.

“Wait, no, I’m sorry—”

He grabbed your chin and turned you back to him in one fluid movement. “You have nothing to be sorry for, darling, and I would be more than happy to entertain these carnal thoughts I saw in those eyes of yours. Unless you’d rather spend the night with someone else?” he teased.

You held your breath as he brought you closer to him, his hand lingering over your cheek. If you just closed the distance now, you could—

“No, Astarion, I won't force—”

“Stop that right now.” He cut you off without skipping a beat, stunning you once more. “You are not forcing yourself onto me or forcing me. This, right now, right here, is my decision.”

His other hand came up to cup your face, drawing you closer to him, your lips but a whisper apart.

“I want this,” he murmured against your lips, his voice lustful and heavy with need. “I want… you.”

Your eyes locked and the second after, his lips were pressed against yours and you let yourself get lost into this kiss. How his hands held on to your face, how his tongue tasted the blood on your lips, how he whimpered into your mouth at the contact of your own tongue; this memory of love you had remembered earlier, it had been a memory of this.

His kiss, his touch, his voice, him.

Your kiss was engulfing, springing your heart back to life in a sudden rush as you met every of his kisses with the same passion, and soon enough, you were laying back against his bedroll, with him over you and stealing your breath away; one — you didn’t realise yet — you didn't need anymore.

His hands rested next to your head and you allowed yourself to reach up to hold his face, trace the lines of his age over his cheeks and down his neck, and trailing along the opening of his shirt before he broke apart from your lips.

“I’ve been thinking about this for many nights now.”

“What would I be like as a vampire?” You asked semi-jokingly.

“No, silly — Although, the question did flit into my mind once or twice, but no. I was thinking of how I would have you, the next time I would bed you. I’ve touched myself at the thought of having you again, the sounds you would make, how your cunt would feel wrapped around my cock instead of my hand—”

He took your hand from where it was resting and guided it down between his legs, and a short gasp escaped you when you felt how hard he was.

“ —but tonight, after spending a lifetime looking for it, I finally know what I want.” His half-lidded eyes seemed darker than they had been, and you lost yourself in them, "And Gods help me if I can't have you—”

“I’m yours,” you answered back in a heartbeat, your voice but a whisper, “I’ve always been, and I’ll always be, for as long as you’ll have me.”

Your words broke the remaining chains of control Astarion had over himself, as he pulled your pants off from you and removed his own shirt while your hands fumbled with his trousers. A moment later, you both laid against one another, as bare as you were on your first days on this plane of existence, your lips back on each other.

“Mmh, I wonder…” Astarion let his kisses trail down from your mouth to your jaw, then your neck.

“Hm?”

“Now that you’re a vampire,” he left small kisses alongside your neck and down your shoulder, “your blood will taste different.”

“You’ll still drink from me?”

“Well of course, dear,” he lingered in the crook of your neck, before licking his way up to your ear where he whispered, “And I can’t wait to know how you taste after you’ve tasted me.”

You shivered against his breath, fully expecting him to bite you following those words, and when he didn’t you were almost disappointed. He, on the other hand, seemed extremely satisfied with himself.

“Eager already? And here I thought I was the most depraved between the two of us.” You sighed heavily as he came back up to face you, “Maybe I will be tasting you tonight, after all. Is this something that you want?”

You smiled softly, your hand finding his cheek again, “Yes.”

When your lips met this time, it was soft, pure, communicating words you hadn’t exchanged yet despite your longing for one another. It only made you want him more.

“Speaking of tasting you,” he said against your lips, “I wonder if something else has changed.”

You barely had time to process what he had said when he made his way down your chest, briefly sucking on one of your nipples.

“Mh,” he released it with a pop, “this one still tastes the same.”

He moved to your other breast to give it the same attention, teasing it with his teeth and earning him a moan from you before releasing it, “This one as well.”

He left a path of kisses as he trailed down your navel, until he was resting between your legs with a hungry look in his eyes, “Now, for the main course—”

You weren’t prepared for his fangs to dig in the inside of your thighs, making you scream in surprise as your hands grabbed onto the sheet of his bedroll. The pain quickly turned into pleasure as he nibbled and kissed the softness of your thigh, before making his way to your wet slit, which begged for attention.

The smell of you invaded his senses and you could feel his breath over your core as he breathed you in, his arms now wrapped under your thighs as he laid on his stomach and between your legs, “Darling, you smell divine.”

A soft whimper escaped your lips as his tongue pressed against your entrance and he slowly licked all the way up to your clit, “And you taste— Gods, you taste even better than before.” He smiled up to you, his mouth covered by a cocktail of your blood and juices. “I didn’t think it could be possible.”

You were past words by now, but even if you had come up with something, you don’t think you would’ve been able to utter anything with the way his tongue worked between your legs, devouring you of your essence.

“I would forsake blood for the rest of my days if it meant I could nourish myself only of your essence, my love,” he said between licks of you. “The Gods truly made you to ruin me; I could never move on from your taste, even if I wanted to.”

His hands surrounding your thighs and his nails digging in your flesh kept you in place as he continued to worship you, and no matter how much you wiggled, his hold on you held on, as if you were the first meal he was having in days and he wouldn’t let you go until he was sated.

Astarion recognized the signs of your unbecoming as your breathing started shaking and your legs tensed around his head, pushing him to tease you further.

“Are you gonna come for me now?” He smiled between your legs, “Come on, love. Come for me. Come on my tongue.”

The vibration of his humming as he continued to savour you only added to the feeling of his tongue, lapping at your entrance and sucking over your sensitive bud, and his nails digging deeper into your thighs added a delicious hint of pain. After weeks without any sex, you were sensitive to the slightest touch, and now there he was: tasting you, devouring you, wanting you; it was all too much.

“Ah… Astarion!”

Your head fell back against the rough floor of his tent as your back arched and stars clouded your vision. You knew how ironic it was to think so, but you had never felt more alive than you did at this very moment, with your devoted lover worshipping you like the goddess who had finally answered his prayers from all those years ago.

Your legs collapsed as he let go of them to move back up to face you, and he took this chance to hook your leg with his, pushing it upwards to create the perfect angle for him to place himself against your entrance.

Your half-lidded eyes met his, delirious with lust, and you wanted to express the feeling that had been weighing on you for too long now, but when his lips collided with yours and you tasted yourself, all those words got lost on his tongue exploring your mouth.

“I’ve waited so long to finally have you,” he said breathlessly against your lips. “I kept pushing back, thinking it was never the right time.”

He licked his lips, wiping off the string of saliva that connected your mouths. “When you disappeared… I thought I had lost my only chance. I’m done waiting around.”

He slowly pushed himself into you with a low groan as he felt your slickness wrap around him, and you threw your arms around his neck as you moaned into his ear.

“Fuck, you’re so wet. So tight and warm, all for me. I would stay here inside of you for a decade if I could. You feel exquisite, my love.”

He retracted himself slowly, and plunged back in with the same agonising pace, taking in the feeling of your inside. “I’ll enjoy taking my time with you; discovering what makes you tick, tease every one of your sensitive spots. But tonight — I just want this: feeling you wrapped around me and to know that I’m the reason for your unbecoming.”

His pace accelerated, each thrust of his hips brushing against your clit as your bodies almost fused as one, pushing you closer to another edge already.

A particularly well placed thrust had you dig your nails into his back and he hissed into your ear, “Darling,” he panted, “Remind me to trim your nails when we’re done.”

You quickly realised what he meant when a poignant smell, stronger than the bergamot, brandy, and rosemary you smelled on him previously, invaded your nostrils and your mouth watered in response. What you didn’t realise was how you ended up breathing down his neck, just against the popping vein conveniently displayed for you to bite down on. Just one bite away from ecstasy.

“Still hungry, little love?”

You were snapped out from your daze by his voice purring into your ear, pulling away from his neck and blinking as you gained back control of your thoughts.

“I’m— It’s just— Your blood smells really, really good.”

He chuckled, “I tend to have that effect on people. Would you like a taste?”

You forced yourself to look into his eyes, “I… Are you sure?”

He smiled, “There’s nothing I’d like more, my love.”

His gaze reflected sincerity and you gulped as you found your way back in the crook of his neck, your lips brushing against his sensitive skin. You licked the vein you had sensed earlier but didn’t push further. That’s when you felt the vibration of his chuckle, “Go on, darling. I can take it, I promise.”

With his permission, you pushed your small fangs right over the vein in his neck, relishing in the sudden flood of his crimson in your mouth.

Whatever you drank a few minutes ago was nothing compared to his blood. He was the source in a desert you had been roaming for days, one you couldn’t believe wasn't an illusion, and you drank, and drank, losing yourself in his neck, in his taste, the very essence that fueled him.

You couldn’t tell how much you had drank or how much time had passed when he growled and pinned your arms next to your head. His hips thrusting once, deeper into you and hitting your cervix is what makes you unlatch from his neck with a moan.

“I believe that’s enough, love. Now, let me taste you.”

His lips collided with yours hungrily as he increased his pace between your legs, and he groaned at the taste of himself on your lips, running his tongue across your small fangs.

“Fuck, I need you, I need to make you mine. I need—”

Something snapped within him, a side of him you couldn’t recall ever seeing — one that he could finally let go as he pushed your legs up, pinning them down across your chest and pounded deeper into you.

He growled into your ear as he desperately rutted into you, nearing the edge of his climax at the same time as yours, “I want you, I want you for the rest of our lives, please be mine, be mine, be mine!”

“I’m yours, I'm yours, I— I love you!”

You screamed as you came, his own orgasm following closely after yours, the wave of emotions clashing with the sparks of pleasure coursing throughout your body, and for a moment, you think you died and came back to life within the same minute. It was stronger than anything you remember feeling — even with your memories still scattered, you think you’d remember something as powerful.

It’s only when you came back to your senses and was met with Astarion’s soft, dumbfounded expression, that you realised what you had just said. Panic slowly made its way into your heart and you struggled to find the right words to correct yourself.

“I’m sorry— I—”

He didn’t allow you to finish that sentence, kissing you once more to steal away those thoughts of regret that faded instantly as he pulled back to speak.

“I love you too, darling.”

Your future was paved with incertitude; your memory wasn’t all there yet, but you remembered what was important for now, and if forgetting your past was the price to create new memories with him, it was a price you were willing to pay.

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