#dhampire reader

[meowsgirldrawing]

Tavstarion Family naptime~

Bonus- Bat Family

(He heard something)

He protec and attak

[gatorbites-imagines]

Friedrich getting 'infected' by proximity and becoming obsessed with dhampir reader?

Friedrich Harding x Dhampir male reader

Ficlet

I can’t deny I felt myself drawn to Friedrich, and it’s not just cuz its Aaron Taylor-Johnson playing him. The scene in the mausoleum… was something. This takes place somewhere after anna and the daughters die, but before Friedrich, well, you know. Tried to really go with the handsome mysterious vampire vibe here.

Hope this meets the “intro to obsession” vibe I was going for. I had a lot of fun writing this, would honestly love to write a part 2, if y’all are interested…

Nosfertatu 2024 spoilers ig

The plague was ransacking Wisborg, people dying by the dozen, bodies littering the streets faster than they could be moved away. Rats ran around, running about peoples feet, some even climbing up pedestrians legs if they could.

But Friedrich could not find it in himself to care. After his sweet Anna was gone, his beautiful daughters too, taken by this plague, for he still did not believe that it was some demon that took them. That was simply the ramblings of a woman who should have been locked away a long time ago. The alcohol on his tongue was sour like his thoughts. He truly should have convinced Thomas of turning his eyes onto another woman all that time ago.

Friedrich was not at his estate. He knew that would be the first place Thomas would find him, along with the two doctors who only played into the delusion. He simply couldn’t stand being in their presence right now, not after burying his beloved Anna and their daughters.

His eyes were bloodshot, throat raw from all his sobbing and weeping. He had not even changed out of the clothing he had worn to their funeral. The keeper of the bar he had found, had left the bottle with him after he had pair, deciding to return to the safety of their home, and not be stuck here with Friedrich.

The door of the establishment opened with a creak, cold air seeming to flood the room. What few candles stood about flickered before snuffing out, the room suddenly so cold that Friedrich’s breath was making vapors as a horrible cold sank into his bones.

The moment Friedrich turned his head, still so heavy and weary, the room seemed to warm up again, the candles flickering back on, the flame stronger and brighter than before. A man stood in the door, tall and broad in a way that spoke of good lineage, of a healthy diet, someone rich enough to eat enough to grow tall.

The clothing was similar, but not what was popular in Germany, but rather what you would see the upper class of the kingdom of Great Britain would wear. Most of it, at least. Down the middle of his coat, was stitching’s and details that felt like it was from somewhere else. It made Friedrich think of the few traders he had met from Romania.

What was most peculiar, was the mans eyewear. They looked like Windsor glasses, but the glass was tinted red. Not a dull weak red that most craftsmen could achieve, but a red so vibrant that the shades almost seemed to glow in the mans shadow. Last but not least, was the cane the man was holding. Polished and dark, with a pommel shaped like that seemed to be a bat of all things.

A feeling started filling the room as the men stepped closer to the mourning widow, the door slamming shut behind the mysterious man as if the wind itself as pulled it, his polished shoes and heels clicking across the flooring as he neared.

His walk was graceful, as if his feet were not touching the ground as he moved, like the weight of the world was not holding him down like everyone else. The world so heavy that Friedrich wanted it to swallow him whole.

A shiver that felt both molten and freezing ran down Friedrichs spine, as this graceful man sat down beside him on another stool at the door, the ship merchant finding himself almost bewitched as the unknown man pulled off his skintight leather gloves. It felt almost promiscuous, the way the gloves slowly pulled off his fingers and folded up so neatly on the bar top.

“You would not mind if I joined you for a drink, would you, Herr?” he finally spoke, his voice purred and accented, like a big fancily dressed feline, perhaps like one of those lions Friedrich had heard of. The voice was accented, something British mixed with Romanian. Seemingly out of nowhere, a crystal glass was in front of him, the mans eyes hidden behind the tinted glass of his special eyewear, but Friedrich felt like a mouse before a cat, like he was seeing someone greater than himself.

“N… not at all” he finally mustered out, voice gasped and breathless, like something besides his heavy grief was weighing on his lungs. The bottle of whatever alcohol Friedrich had bought in his blind grief felt heavy in his clammy hands as he pulled the stopper, turning it to pour it into the mans glass.

Friedrich could not wrench his eyes from the tall mans face, he felt almost bewitched. It felt like when he would look at Anna, but… more. Anna was always his beloved beautiful wife, who made him feel like an animal at times with how much he yearned her. But with her, he was the wolf, the hunter, and her his fluffy rabbit.

But now, he felt meek, sensitive, the hairs on his skin standing on end. Friedrich felt spit pool in his mouth as his sudden companion lifted the now filled glass, slowly bringing it to his plush lips, the bop of his throat as he swallowed making sweat gather on the merchant’s brow.

The beating of his heart was loud in his ears, Friedrichs hands twitching on the bar top in a need to wipe them on his trousers, but under this man’s attention he felt stuck as if he was submerged in stone or ice. His smile was… so beautiful. Dizzying, like alcohol and tobacco, like the medicines that made your world spin and colors dance before your ears.

Some of the man’s teeth were sharp, sharper than any Friedrich had ever seen, but his attention was stuck on the way his tongue flicked across his bottom lip to catch any stray drops of alcohol.

“You seemed burdened by a great weight, my friend” he purred, placing the now empty glass down, just to reach upper and take Friedrichs chin between his pointer and thumb. A loud shaky exhale left Friedrich, his Adams apple bouncing as he swallowed, his insides burning at such a small touch.

“I… I lost my wife… my daughters. To this plague” he gasped, the words wrenching from his chest like his daughters wrenching the favorite doll from each other’s hands. Why did he say that? spill such a painful fact to a complete stranger.

“You have my deepest condolences” his accented voice cooed, like one would coo at a small pitiful animal. Yet, Friedrich did not feel put down by the tone of voice, instead his very heart seemed to pump twice as fast as something like euphoria flooded his veins. The very attention of this man had Friedrich feeling more alive than any other moment of his life.

“It saddens me that my father’s obsession should take such important beings from you. I will find a way to repay you, anything you may want. You simply come find me, when you know what that is” his almost erotic voice rolled, his face drawing closer and closer to Friedrichs.

He knew he should pull away, claim disgust and horror of a man, and a strange at that, drawing so close, just after his wife had been put away in the mausoleum. But Friedrichs blood rushed, both to his face and downwards, his lips parting in a soft hungry gasp as his eyelids drooped.

The mans lips were cold, but not as cold as a corpses. Cold, like when you just got in from the pouring rain and you were soaked to the bone. His tongue tasted metallic, salty almost, mixed with the minty flavor of pastils. The kind a man would use to fix his breath.

It should have disgusted Friedrich, yet he found himself arching into it with a needy hungry whimper, a noise his sweet Anna never had drawn from him. The merchant wanted to grasp onto this man, to devour his tongue and mouth in ways he never dared with Anna, to climb upon him and be taken in ways he had only heard shamefully spoken of by others.

Pure ecstasy, what must be a taste of heaven, enough for Friedrich to fear he would spill in his trousers like a fool. Addicting, more than any drug. But just as he was about to indulge himself, the man pulled away, his grin wider and more akin to the demon paintings of the churches.

His teeth were painted red, his tongue flicking across his sharp fangs. His tongue seemed sharper and longer than the average person, but Friedrich felt nothing but want. In his hazy state, Friedrich did not even see him leave. One moment he was there, the next, gone, the door of the establishment wide open and the candles put out.

Rats ran by the door, yet none entered, as if there was a barrier in the way. It was only now that Friedrich felt the ache of his tongue, his hand clumsily reaching up and brushing against it, drawing away only to see them coated in blood. His mouth tasted like blood, his handkerchief soaked in it when he pressed it against his mouth.

His tongue hurt, did it start bleeding on accident when you two coiled yours like a pair of mating snakes? The throbbing of his tongue was almost as addictive as the throbbing between his legs, a wild feeling in his mind and body.

Friedrich stumbled to his feet, neglecting to pick up his hat as he stumbled out of the establishment, leaving his bottle behind as he tripped towards his home. With all the death around them, no one had time to pay attention to the befuddled man whose mouth and chin was soaked in blood, and nobody had time to pay attention to how the rats seemed to go right around him like a parting sea.

He must get home. He had too… he had to find that man again, he had to find you.

[pursuitseternal]

Can i get prompt 20 with astarion x f!tav? Maybe she is in her fertile period and very horny or maybe carrying his child and hormones are messing up with her head (idk if u feel comfortable writing about it, i didn't find your rules. If you don't, ok) and Astarion offers his thigh for her to get off :))

“Helpful…”

UA Astarion x f!Reader | Smut Ask Prompts

CW: pregnancy smut

Thirty-six weeks… it’s been. Not that you’re counting. Each day is more taxing than the last… a blissful sort of torture, one you endure with a smile.

Most days.

But, days like today, you question your sanity and doubt your strength.

You couldn’t even count the sum of enemies you slaughtered. You brought down the Chosens of the Dead Three, you massacred an Illithid army….

And now the rapid flutter and kicking in your rounded belly is enough to lay you up for hours. The ache and stretch it is to bring a life into this world takes your literal breath away. Of course it doesn’t help that the child inside is Dhampir… and that its father is equally demanding at times, in different ways.

As you’ve grown heavier, rounder, Astarion has grown more attentive, helping around your cottage in the Underdark. Honestly, you sometimes scratch your head to watch the once selfish, snarky bastard of a Spawn become a snarky, helpful bastard of a Spawn.

There is one way he has relished helping you; the more demand the child inside you places on your body, the more demand your body has on you for… release. Sometimes it makes you cry, how madly you want Astarion to fuck you. Doesn’t matter where or when or for how long.

With that little problem, he’s more than eager to help. The further into your term you get, the worse the ache is, but the more exhausted you are too. Often some days, you just swallow the rage of lust that simmers inside you, but other days, he notices far too easily.

His nostrils flare as you enter your little study. He reclines on the little couch near the fire, the dim light dancing off the brightly colored spines of books around you. Scenting your need, he opens his arms, a familiar invitation to rest against him. You take the last few waddling steps, hands on your knees as you lower your rear to the couch. Your body fills the space between his legs, grimacing as it creaks under you.

Your cheeks are flush with need, and now they burn with embarrassment. “Gods I feel huge,” you bemoan, trying not to make the wooden frame of the couch groan under you again as you shift closer to your Vampiric love. “I can’t wait much longer, love,” you groan, leaning back against the cool hard planes of his torso.

“A few more weeks, and then our little one will be here,” he whispers into your ear, lips pressing a kiss, fingers pulling the stray wisps of hair back over your shoulder. “I’m sure she will be as fierce as you…”

“That’s your guess? She?” You give an airy laugh. “Well, she certainly is already fierce, given the amount of kicking, punching, and spinning that plagues me at all hours.”

A cool hand wanders over the taut curve of your belly, and instantly the child thumps against the pressure. You cry out at the pain, laughing at the look of surprise on Astarion’s face as your belly shifts with the babe’s movement within. “Incredible,” he breathes before looking at you, tilting your face into his by clasping your chin. “You’re… incredible,” lips murmur against yours. “Nearly impossible odds against us to create a dhampir, and here you are heavy with my child. Wouldn’t be the first time we were victorious against the impossible, hmm?”

“Knowing you, it won’t be the last, either,” you laugh, pursing your lips to kiss him slowly, sweetly. Hands work their way lower to the base of your belly, rucking up your skin to hunt down that source of your scent, that center of your searing need. Cool fingers on your skin give you instant relief, climbing their caress higher and higher until the dip inside you. Your aching spine bends even more, tilting your heavy hips to let him explore deeper.

Heavenly, his chilled thumb dances over your constantly hardened clit, his fingers cooling the ever-burning walls of your cunt. You hiss, riding his fingers. But your body is too laden to move like this. Your hips lock up, your back crying out in pain from your position.

And Astarion reads it in the smallest twinge of your face. Crimson eyes widen in concern, and he shushes you, soothing you as you are lifted up in his strong arms. “Ride me,” he purrs. But your hip joints already protest at the idea of being spread for his waist.

A pitiful whimper escapes you as you manage to pull yourself up on your knees on the couch to face him. Those silver brows furrow, hands at your waist to steady you… both of you. His sight roams over your flushed complexion and sweaty brow, and he guides you over his one long leg, propping it up to press beneath you.

“Use my thigh, my darling,” he murmurs, “your saviour is here.” He grins, raskish and conceited. That same line from when he once would reach out to you in combat. But you’re too pent up to tease, burning too hot with a need to find release with him in any capacity.

A hiss escapes your lips as you settle your folds on the bone of his thigh. Hard, corded muscle cools your wet and aching cunt as you grind. Slick soaks instantly through your panties and definitely into the fabric of his pants. But it only makes his hands grip harder into your hips. The fabric of your loose, flowing dress is no match for the iron clutch of his dexterous fingers.

“Fuck,” you curse, bracing your hands on either side of his head as you move faster. That new angle rubs your clit perfectly, the pressure of his thigh beneath you makes your mouth water with the promise of relief.

“Tch, language, darling,” he chides, slipping a hand beneath your skirts to find your clit with deadly precision, even blindly. “Do you want our babe to be born swearing like Karlach?”

You hang your head, laughing breathlessly until your ribs hurt. You didn’t know they could do that. A bite of your lip, and you grind faster, harder, savoring the way your soaked clothes rub over the aching nerves of your folds. Delicious friction that soothes the ache inside you.

And his finger, gods, it coaxes sighs from your lips, circles made to tease your nub from its swollen hood until you’re shaking.

“Come for me, my love…” he rasps as you hang your head closer to his honeyed lips. Words whispered to you a thousand times before seem to penetrate you deep in your belly, the fluttering of your child making you catch your breath. It grips your whole stomach, your climax. The whole swell of your belly tightens, and then tightens some more. Legs shake, and your whole body floods with the burst of pleasure you craved all day. Little strangled noises fall from your lips, until panting, you rest, unable to move off his leg.

“Where would you be without me, darling?” he purrs, slipping his hand deeper between your thighs, stroking and stretching your walls. Feeling them flutter on his fingers.

You huff a humored, tired laugh, “Not pregnant, for one.” He pouts back at you. “And two, I’d be lost without you my love.” You lean forward for a kiss, letting him hold you up. Letting him support you in all the ways he can.

[graveyardcuddles]

Breakfast in Bed

A/N: just a dadstarion drabble. feeding as a love language. mdni.

word count: ~ 3000

tags/warnings: sfw, shameless fluff, soft spawn astarion, baby fic, mentions of reader being pregnant in past tense, breastfeeding, soft blood-drinking (? lol), tav reader, mom reader, soft vampire romance, hints of angst, just lots of sweetness, playing fast and loose with dnd lore about dhampirs and vampires.

You're enjoying a rare deep sleep when a small yet powerful sound jolts you into a state of semi-consciousness with alarming urgency. You can barely register your own body around you, attempting to roll and shift. Suddenly, you feel a familiar cool hand touch your shoulder. "Shhh, it's alright, love. I've got her."

Astarion. He must have sensed your panic at your daughter's cries before he even had the chance to grab her himself. You sigh in relief as he quickly moves to soothe her.

"Gods below, whatever could be making that absolutely hideous sound? Has a little gremishka gotten into our home?" He says with a heavy dose of sarcasm as he pads over to her cot.

Untangling yourself from the bedding, you open your eyes just in time to see Astarion gently lifting your tiny daughter out of her bassinet.

"Darling, waking up your mother so early?" He tuts. "And here I was hoping to make this a peaceful morning."

Despite his mock scolding, his expression betrays the softness of his eyes, wide with adoration. His lips curl upwards in a carefree way that you've never quite seen from him with anyone else. A secret smile that only she can pull from him. She scruches her little legs, and he places a gentle kiss to the top of her head, his hand covering almost her entire back. He coos to her as her cries taper out into little whines. Nestling her close to his chest, Astarion tucks her tiny head under his chin. Rocks her gently while shushing her until she goes quiet.

You watch as her tiny scrunched body relaxes as she calms in his hold. So enchanted you are by the two of them that it takes a moment for you to notice the aroma of food coming from behind you. You turn around and see a small tray on your nightstand with a bowl of porridge, two hard-boiled eggs, toast, and some blackberries.

Once again, you find yourself struck by how much he's changed in the years since the Nautaloid. He never used to cook for you before, and you never resented him for it. You couldn't expect him to be enthusiastic about cooking when he couldn't even taste what he made for you.

All of that changed after the news of your impending little one broke. He had quietly taken to practicing a few basic meals for you. They often lacked the amount of seasoning you normally preferred, but with your overly tender stomach, the bland meals ended up being a blessing on days you could barely keep things down.

As you eat your breakfast, you watch the two of them. Somehow, he's always had a remarkable talent for calming her. Something else you never imagined. You used to tease him about it frequently: "Oh sure, I go through all the hard work only for you to be the favorite, then?" He had simply smirked, barely able to contain his triumphant aura.

He's talking to her now; always talking with her about anything: one tangent will lead to another story and then another. He carries on conversation with her as he would any adult, despite the fact she can't even babble yet.

Even before she was born, he would speak to her in the womb. He knew your heartbeat would be a source of comfort for her when she was born, just as it was for him. She would recognize you from it, know you. He lacked the ability to provide that same comfort but hoped his voice would make up for his lack of heartbeat.

In truth, you were awed every day by how naturally Astarion had taken to caring for her, and how much she in turned seemed to take such comfort from him. You remembered how he refused to believe it at first. How something so small and innocent and precious could possibly come from him, an undead creature. Him, with his red eyes and fangs and cold skin. He had been so afraid of frightening her with his appearance at first. You had reassured him constantly, and he had seen his own likeness in the form of portraits over the years. But he could never be sure you weren't just placating him. Could never be sure those artists weren't simply flattering him.

The first time she opened her little eyes and peered up at him, Astarion let out a sigh of relief that her irises weren't a vampiric red. As her tiny eyes bore into his, he tried to discern what their true color was. You were half-delirious from exhaustion as you watched the two of them become acquainted. Barely thinking, you sleepily suggested to him that perhaps her eye color took after his original shade from before he was turned.

Astarion grew quiet and still for a long moment, something inside of him seemingly triggered by your words. A memory locked away long ago, lost to time. For the second time that same day, his body was hit with deep racking sobs. As he cried quietly into your shoulder, he clung to the little bundle in his arms, a part of himself thought long lost now given back to him.

He brings her to you now, settling down next to you in bed. You cuddle up next to your husband and baby. He's still too enthralled with her to pass her off to you, as he often is. He kisses her little hands and cheek. He smiles radiantly, far past his fears of scaring her. You're more than content to let him hold her as you eat.

She's calmed down now, her soft delicate features smoothed and her big bright eyes looking up at you both. Those captivating eyes are like faceted gemstones, a rare shade even amongst High Elves. Her skintone is similar to yours in color but with an unsettling washed-out, pale undertone that would be alarming on any other child who wasn't a dhampir. Branches of veins show through her semi-translucent skin. Her soft, silky miniature curls were the color of milkglass.

Your little one is deceptively fragile-looking, sickly even. It's easy to forget sometimes how powerful they could potentially be one day. Even at her tender young age of eight weeks, she's a formidable one. Eating and crying with equal fervor. Small and mighty. Just as opinionated as her father.

She wastes no time in letting you know both know she has needs that must be met. Rolling towards Astarion in his arms, she presses her tiny face into his chest. Her little mouth opens up as her face nudges around his shirt, seeking nourishment. You both giggle at her frustrated attempt.

"I think that's my cue, love." You place the tray back on the nightstand and gently take her from him to nestle her in your arms. Pulling down one strap of your nightgown, you begin feeding your babe in a peaceful ritual you had mastered weeks ago with her. Astarion settles in behind you with his chin resting on your shoulder. For a few minutes, he simply watches the two of you. When he takes note of your unfinished breakfast, he grabs a handful of blackberries from the tray and holds out for you to eat at your leisure as you cradle her.

It isn't lost on him, the way in which you were the first person to ever feed him. Truly feed and nourish his body, with the very blood from your own body nonetheless. Never in a million years did he ever think he would one day witness you feeding his child with that same body. An entirely brand new soul, somehow born of your union. Innocent, beautiful and alive. A part of Astarion was alive again, and he could hardly believe it even as he faced each new challenge head-on.

Since she was born, he would sometimes go without feeding for days at a time. Though the elk, deer and boars that populated the nearby woods provided ample prey for him, you knew he hated leaving you two behind even for a few hours of time that it typically took for him to hunt.

He was trying to hide it, but you could tell he was starving now. His face was a little more hollow than usual, eyes a bit more sunken, skin paler and colder. It was truly a testament to how much he adored your daughter that despite his sickly appearance, he still radiated with joy in her presence.

The blackberries run out. You tilt your head to look at him. "You should feed," eyes fixed on his. He blinks at you, obviously surprised at your suggestion. "Just a bit of my blood before you go hunting."

It takes more than a bit of willpower to stifle your giggle at his reaction. Astarion had never been one to hesitate accepting your blood.

"I- Darling, come now. You're sweet to offer, but we shouldn't. Not when you're already expending yourself," his arms snake around your waist, and his cool fingers knead into the softness of your belly comfortingly.

"Ha, trust me, this is nothing compared to feeding you while traveling and fighting for our lives in the wilderness," you assure him.

"Besides," you gesture at the jewelry around your neck. "That's what this is for."

The Amulet of Silvanus, which had already been more than useful to both of you during your time traveling, had come to have many more beneficial properties than you could have imagined at the time. It restored your blood levels, allowing Astarion to feed on you regularly. And even though he had abstained from feeding on your blood while you were with child, it had been found to also be useful in keeping your milk supply up, giving it a second use once your baby had arrived.

"It's alright," you insisted, eyes and voice soft. "I feel strong enough for this again, my love. Truly. And I trust you," your daughter continues to nurse peacefully, blissfully unaware of the conversation between her parents.

"At least let me take the edge off of your hunger, Astarion. I know you won't go too far. Besides," a smile forms on your face, unable to hold back your enthusiasm any longer. "You know I've missed it, too."

He stared at you for a moment before breaking into a smile that made your heart ache so much you swear it could have killed you.

"My love," he kisses you on the forehead, then on your lips, then both of your cheeks and your lips again. It's soft and reverent, gentle and loving.

"Always so good to me." He strokes your hair and kisses you some more before pulling away gently. His maroon eyes broke from your gaze and locked onto your little one.

"Are you sure about this, though?" There was a hint of hesitancy in his voice despite his previous enthusiasm. "I don't want to do anything that would hurt you around her," he whispered, conflict clear on his face. You considered his words carefully.

"Well..." You start with a hint of playfulness. "I don't know if you remember, dear husband, but this?" You gestured at your nursing infant. "Feeding her? It was painful at first. And we don't even know if she'll need blood one day. But if she does, I'll be providing it for you both." He looks guilty already, so before he could respond, you followed up. "But even so," you cup his cheek, gently forcing him to look you in the eye. "No matter what happens, she can't hurt me." His eyebrows raised, and he smirked at you with obvious skepticism.

"When we first found out about her, we vowed we would love her, no matter what. Even if her hunger drove her one day to drain innocent people dry." You gaze down on your little dhampir, your precious 'baby monster,' as she fed. "At the time, I was scared, but now... my love for her is so deep. I know nothing will ever change it. Nothing could ever possibly change it."

You look to him and see his eyes were round with wonder. "You don't have to if you're not comfortable, my heart. But just know you don't have to worry about hurting me. You could never hurt me, my love."

He sighed, looking at you with a sort of incredulous amusement that would normally be followed up with a statement about how nothing you say ever makes sense. Instead, he takes the hand that had been caressing his cheek and kisses it longingly.

"I'll never understand what I've done to deserve you, my dear," his nose runs along your inner wrist, savoring your scent.

"Hmm, besides helping me save the world? Well, making me laugh and being adorable definitely doesn't hurt."

"Our daughter is adorable. I am enigmatic and alluring, NOT adorable," he rolls his eyes dramatically.

"Hmm. Sorry love, but I'm afraid all evidence points to the contrary. Our daughter gets her looks from somewhere, and you know who she takes after." Astarion can't hold back his grin he looks down at her and strokes her silvery curls. The semblance between father and daughter was no small point of pride for him.

"Alright, my love. I know better than to argue with the mother of my child." He slips in behind both of you easily, pulling you up so your back is flushed to his chest, allowing yourself to lean back into him.

His arms come up under where both of yours are supporting your babe. He cradles the both of you protectively. "I've got you. I've got you both," he reassures. Your little girl continues to nurse peacefully, both parents holding her tight.

Astarion noses at the base of your neck and inhales deeply. Soft kisses pepper up and down your neck before his lips hold still in place, silently asking permission once more.

You tilt your head back against his shoulder in answer, giving him greater access. Taking a deep breath, you feel the familiar sting of his fangs breaking your skin. He was so gentle, sinking his teeth in fast enough so as not to make the sting linger, but also slow enough so as not to bruise the skin. His fangs work back and forth tenderly, taking great care to keep the bite bleeding while not opening the wound further.

You find yourself easily relaxing. "You're still gentler than she is most of the time," you joke.

His lips attach around the bite wound, gently latched just enough to keep them sealed around it. The flow of blood stayed slow and steady this way, trickling gently from you to him. In your arms, your little one is also feeding eagerly. For a moment, you can't help but giggle at how the sound of Astarion's suckling at your neck joins in with her own precious little eating noises. Her tiny ears wiggle adorably with each drink, and while he refuses to acknowledge it, you can feel Astarion's own ears make miniscule twitches when he feeds on you.

Sighing happily, you sink deeper in his embrace. You had truly missed being able to provide this for him. Time seems to slow down to a hazy crawl as you savor this moment. In the warmth of your bed, surrounded by your little family, you feel as though you could spend an eternity here. You wish you could. It wasn't easy to sacrifice so much. Give so much of yourself over to caring for your babe. But it was moments like this that had made your many sacrifices worth it.

Your undead love at your back and your tiny, half-undead infant in your arms. The feeling of his cool chest and her not-quite-warm-enough little form were somehow the most natural thing in the world. The steady beating of your heart sustaining the both of them. They were both supposed to be impossible, wrong, and profane to everything sacred and divine. And somehow, they were perfect. And you were lucky enough to have them both.

Though you're more than prepared to supplement your daughter's diet with blood the moment the need arises, you feel grateful in this moment that she's still satisfied with your milk. Melancholy borders on the edge of your warm and blissful feelings. Astarion has spoken often of how painful the blood hunger can be for him. You try to keep it to yourself, but guilt squeezes your heart when you think of her with those same hunger pains. Astarion has already sworn he will guide her through them, teach her to hunt on animals when she's strong enough. As you look upon your daughter, you can only hope to yourself that she and Astarion keep each other close, even if you one day leave them behind. There had been talks of ways the two of you could extend your lifespan, and you invested every hour you could spare into researching life-extending magic.

Yet if your endeavors failed or you died prematurely, after some time, perhaps decades, perhaps centuries in the future, you will be the one who leaves first. Astarion will remain unliving and physically unchanging, and while dhampirs were said to be more alive than undead, they were exceptionally long-lived creatures. Sources the two of you researched varied greatly, but all accounts agreed that dhampirs could outlive High Elves by centuries, possibly thousands of years if they renewed themselves with blood. Two ancient souls, undead and half-undead, largely unchanging in an ever changing world. Astarion and her would need each other.

Just as you begin to feel lightheaded, he pulls away, licking and kissing your bite to seal the wound and carefully collecting any stray strands of blood. "Easy," his arms are diligently wrapped around your babe, keeping her supported and snug. "Restore yourself, darling," he encouraged.

You nod sleepily and bring your hand up to touch the amulet. "Te Absolvo," with a soft flash of healing magic, your dizziness was instantly gone, the buzz in your head replaced with Astarion's sweet praises in your ear.

"Thank you, my love," he whispers. He presses a deep kiss into your neck, where your fresh bite mark heals. Your daughter has finished her meal now as well, and you pull your gown back up to tuck her closer to you. She snuggles up on your chest, and you stroke her back softly. She's fast asleep again already, her schedule leaning more and more each into the nocturnal with each passing day. Another early manifestion of her dhampirism.

Nocturnal sleep schedules, blood hunger, spider-climbing, shape-shifting. It didn't matter what new challenges the two of you might face with her. You trusted Astarion would be there for her. He would struggle. He would make mistakes, you know. But he has you both.

As you hum sleepily to your baby girl, Astarion nestles into your neck tenderly. He mumbles unto your skin quietly, just barely loud enough to be heard.

"You have given me everything. Thank you."

[lavendermatchastrife]

Vampire Hunter…G?

warnings: 18+ mdni, vampires, blood, sexual content, country bumpkin!reader, dhampir!geto, postapocalyptic au, pining, swearing, assault, violence, oral fixation, rough sex, supernatural themes, geto is a beautiful man, he’s like if a woman and a woman had a baby

word count: idk like 13k+

pairing: geto suguru x reader

summary: after being attacked by a noble, you seek out a vampire hunter to aid you in killing the damn thing

a/n: I recently saw vampire hunter d on the big screen for the anniversary for the first time in yearsssss, you can say I was a little inspired

It’s the year 12,090. After the planet was ravaged by a devastating nuclear war, life on earth was driven nearly towards extinction. Despite hundreds of years passing by, post global war, humans experienced primitive levels of poverty and relied on scavenging and hiding for survival. Seeing the decline in the overall population, ancient beings rose up from the shadows to rule over the desperate and dying human race. Vampires, of noble sorts, took over the world and restored a semblance of order. They’d brought back certain technology, something humans thought was once lost, adapted and brought new advances in their wake. There was a shift in the world, an era of peace it hadn't seen in a terribly long time. Comfortability settled in the bones of every human at last as vampires resided as lords in exchange for human blood. However, peace could only be for so long, and over time eventually even the vampires began to disappear and die off. In their desperation to preserve their way of life, they hid in the depths. Now in hiding, hunting when they saw fit and keeping amongst themselves to preserve whatever honor and dignity they had left. Especially considering the emergence of hunters and mutants as a result of mutations from the post apocalyptic-world.

It was a typical night, maybe just a tad drearier than normal. Humidity filled your lungs and danced across your skin, as droplets of sweat gathered on your brow. The air was thick, a dense fog overtook the fenced in farmland. The skies promised rain, as clouds overtook its expanse. It steadily drenched the once serene sunset into a sea of thick navy. A stillness followed as the evening poured in, all signs of life seeming to cease instantly. No crickets, no chirping, no rustling. The leaves appeared to be frozen in place, the only sounds were your controlled breaths. You were out patrolling, securing the border of your property for any immediate danger before powering up your heavy shields. You owned the latest weaponry, something imported. It was expensive, heavy, it had the smell of new metal and something burnt when you would fire it. You were used to guns with torching projectiles, lasers, swords even; yet you would still be amazed at the advances that would find their way to your sleepy town. It reminded you of how far behind you were from the rest of the world, especially when it came to defenses and technological adaptation. With a declining population and no childcare, how were you supposed to venture out or care for your little brother? There was occasional help from the people around town, but at the end of the day they still had their own priorities. Whether it was their own families or self preservation, you couldn’t blame them either way.

The shift in atmosphere caused you to clutch your heavy gun to your chest, it was still warm from moments prior when you fired it at a small thing just outside of your border. It was pulsing, lumps of quivering purple skin and fleshy wings. The creature must have taken over the body of a bird or larva of some sort, it was easy prey and an enemy regardless of its size. Danger came in all shapes and sizes, especially in the countryside so you couldn’t be too careful. As you continued your patrol your grip tightened on the clunk of high-tech metal, and then suddenly the air ran freezing. Your breaths came out in small puffs as your once perspiring skin became unbearably cold to the touch. Your rapid heartbeat rang in your ears, every hair on your body stood up in response to something primal bubbling in your gut.

Your body shuddered with rabbit-like trembling as you continued to slowly stalk around your property, “Who’s out there? Show yerself’! Coward!” You kept your eyes peeled for the threat you knew loomed around the corner. Your body had felt their presence before your mind could fully register that you weren’t alone. It was as if every creature in the area fled as a response to the dominating monster. At least you assumed it was a monster. You could feel it, the presence of something powerful. The presence of a true predator.

As the wind picked up, your surroundings were painted red. You were thankful you’d sent your brother home with your house’s barriers up. Subconsciously you hoped the remote in your pocket wouldn’t get crushed in whatever scuffle was going to take place. Scuffle? You wished it’d be that inconsequential. Whatever defenses you had probably wouldn’t be enough to deal with the unseen creature, but hopefully it’d handle whatever followed in its wake. It was then when your mind drew back to your predicament at hand, when you felt it push against your back. Singing your thanks internally that this was so far out from your house, that even if you were attacked here your brother would hopefully be off of their radar.

With trembling fingers, and a hitched breath, you spun around and pushed off of it in an attempt to create some distance. The billowing monster, with it's large black cape swaying in the wind leered at you, but you couldn’t quite make out their cold gaze. However, as your mind raced, your body froze, unresponsive to your own will as you finally made eye contact. It happened before you could even pull the trigger, your gun raised in steadfast defense. In the moment that the mysterious creature became clear in your vision, it instantaneously became infatuated with you. The determined wrinkle of your brow, the angry scowl that pulled at your lips. The moonlight bathed in crimson all because of him painted your skin the most tantalizing shade. He just had to have you.

The following moments were a blur, your mind was barely conscious. Even though you could see, taste, hear, feel, you were completely powerless. A specter that watched as your body was toyed with, you watched in horror as a pearlescent light cast itself upon you. Glowing charm magic that had you stunned and floating in the air, as still as the air became, it was as if that didn’t apply to you. He pointed a bony, sharpened finger nail in your direction as if to coax you. As he beckoned your form to his darkly cast silhouette, you finally were able to make out his face in your hazy state. And as his cold, undead fingers traced your figure, snagged onto your plump flesh just beating with fresh blood through your veins, you realized exactly who was about to feast upon you.

His dark chuckle while he took in the sight of your blank expression, the slight tremble that overtook you involuntarily. It sent shivers down your spine. You wished a deer would pop out, or a ghoul, or hell-even a demon would be fine. Anything but a vampire. A noble vampire of one of the highest regards among their hidden society. A noble who’s family presided as lords over your town’s land for centuries.

Naoya Zen’in held you close at last, the wind picked up, the trees in the surrounding forest creaked as if laughing at the poor state of you. His lips traced your pulse, he inhaled the nape of your neck, and you saw a sea of bats in the sky above you. An audience, you were sure. Your body reacted in a way that disgusted you, it keened and bent in pleasure as his fangs pierced your skin at last. You felt it, his searing kiss against your perspiring skin. As droplets of rubies descended from your wound, dressing you in a beautiful cascading necklace, a burning ecstasy filled your body. You hated it, you felt helpless as your body against your will writhed and begged for more, and yet he detached himself from your beating pulse point.

He looked pained, sharp brown eyes that watched you continue to squirm and begged him to finish it, to take you. It was delicious, he was practically drunk off of the feeling of hot crimson that streamed down his throat. He didn’t care that the words weren’t your own, that his hypnosis was just a little too effective, instead he reveled in the feeling of pleasure that reverberated off of you. Your virgin blood flooded his senses, but he held back. He couldn’t have you, not just yet. But he would, he was determined.

“I’ll give you three nights to prepare yourself, and say your farewells.” His husky voice chilled your body, the pleasure still consumed you whole. You itched, and pawed at your neck as his paralysis began to dispel; while a lecherous grin spread across his face. Half lids that studied your reaction, something inside of him came to life for the first time in centuries. He’d never seen a reaction like that, never had someone so sensitive. “On the fourth night, I’ll come for you, and take you as my bride. Steel yourself, for I will not and cannot be shaken.” And as quickly as he appeared before you, he vanished.

You weren’t sure if you were happy that you didn’t bleed out as you finally picked yourself up. Whatever sedative he’d cast upon you wore off completely minutes after his departure, even though it felt like hours. The crimson night returned to its serene navy setting, and life seemed to finally return to the surrounding forest. A small rabbit hopped beside you, carefully sniffing your feet and legs as if the stench of that beast was still washed over you. Which it was, you knew you were caked in coagulated blood, a sweltering wound that you quickly covered with a choker-like bandage pulsed with need and further pain. The pleasure and pain gave you whiplash, how was it so intoxicating despite being so dreadful?

You limped back to your home. Careful not to make any more noise than temporarily disabling the buzzing fence around it would cause. Your home was a rather large, spacious farmhouse. It was something you’d inherited from your deceased parents, and even if it was centuries old at that point, it had some great bones on it. Sure, the paint was chipping on the outside of the house. It was no problem that the plumbing was questionable, and some of your windows were boarded up. You made sure that you had a security system that was as up to date as your countryside town would allow, given their limited resources and lack of traveling merchants. It was too dangerous to send out people in an already dwindling population.

As you trailed your exhausted body along the wall, using it as support as your feet guided you toward your rickety stairs, you began to feel heaviness set in. You winced as the burning mark left on you began to ache. It was pain unlike anything you’d ever felt before. Which was surprising considering you were always being pummeled by the monsters that lurked in the darkness. If you weren’t being thrown around as you steadily defeated and killed the threats that plagued your town and home, you were climbing onto burly bodies. Using your own to slam them into any surface you could find while you put them down, it really was a full body effort to get rid of those things. You’d been caught in traps, poisoned, broken bones, but nothing could describe the sensation of the venom coursing through your veins. You knew the only thing that would help would be to kill the monster that held your body captive.

Or, as a temporary fix; fill it with another’s venom. Vampire’s were a rarity, not that you’d ever trust one enough to help you out. That was not something you’d willingly do, so it certainly wasn’t going to be your first option either.

You tried to make sure you didn’t leave a trail of dirt and blood while you disabled your security and felt along the wall to reactivate it. Tired legs hobbled up the steps, and heavy arms clutched the railing. Your brother was sound asleep, he held a clear and firm grip onto his own ray gun. He held it tightly to his chest, and you wondered if that was too dangerous. If you should pull it from his arms and just let him sleep like a little boy for once. However, you knew he was much safer with the possibility of firing the laser into himself as he slept, than being unarmed and left defenseless for even a moment in this dog-eat-dog world. If it wasn’t monsters looking for a meal, or a tasty snack; then it was raiders. Travelers with bad intentions. Hell, you knew that even some of the people you grew up with couldn’t be fully trusted.

It took you much longer to get to your restroom, and even longer to peel your drenched clothes off. You knew you stunk of sweat, the musk of another body, probably like the dead. Your dark restroom walls appeared black, your vision ran spotty. You’d lost a lot after all, you knew once your body finally relaxed you’d feel the full weight of your injuries. Your wrists were bruised, a purple handprint was left on your side, and another wrapped along your throat. Underneath your bandage, the dark purple and red mark oozed black blood. Blue and yellow veins ran up your throat, and along the wound site. The two puncture wounds were puffy, a reminder of the promise he made and the seal to your fate.

You practically crawled into the shower after thoroughly disinfecting the bite mark and wrapping it in a water resistant bandage. As the sweltering water beat against your sensitive skin, you desperately tried to scrub the man off of it. Even when you felt like a boiled lobster, skin rubbed so raw that you’d even resembled one; you could still feel his presence. It felt like at any moment his voice could plague your thoughts, like a part of him was inside of you now. You hated the disgusting feeling of longing you felt, you knew it was just his spell. You knew he’d cast a gnarly one upon you, because when you closed your eyes desire pooled into your stomach. Repulsion replaced by an intense itch you desperately needed something to scratch. You’d be damned if you were to ever willingly let him put his hands on you. Even if all your body wanted was to succumb to his endless night.

Over my dead body.

You never felt so happy to be curled up in your bed before, the old blankets filled your senses with the scent of your parents. With notes of eucalyptus and something peppery. Despite countless washes since their passing, your home and belongings still held their memory. Still held their voices, the way they smelled, their very spirits filled your home with love. How could you let their sacrifices go to waste if you were to be swept up by some haughty noble.

In the morning, you’d find a hunter. There were talks of some people passing through, of a couple hunters and merchants. You knew you’d have to find someone along the outskirts of your town, even if it was almost a quarter day’s hike out. That was your only chance at finding the help you knew you needed. Even if it would wound your pride to rely on anyone besides yourself.

A gentle breeze found its way into your room, your window was cracked so that you could just get some air. There was a stifling feeling that washed over your body. Lungs that were filled with anxiety, limbs that were heavy with exhaustion. The feeling consumed you despite your comfort and the need for your smooth sheets and plush blankets. You needed it to ground you, while sleep tried to consume you. You saw visions as sleep danced behind your eyelids, your eyes were slightly open while you watched shadowed monsters (mere illusions meant to torment you) crawl along your walls. The once comforting night time blue caused nausea to prick your senses as you felt like you were being watched. It was like he was there with you, in the corner of your room, watching you fight off the inevitable push and pull of exhaustion. His smirk didn’t leave your vision, even as your eyes succumbed to sleep finally.

With his voice echoing in your ears, taunting you and laughing maniacally, you begged for the morning to come quicker. You hoped and prayed for salvation, as your dreams were plagued by blood and lust.

Just 3 nights. 3 nights to figure out how the hell you could kill that monster.

•

Just as you’d promised yourself, you woke up at the first sign of daybreak. Before your rooster could even crow, you were up and dressing yourself. You’d put on shorts, a cropped-sleeveless high neck sweater, then found the most comfortable shoes you owned. Your brother was already tending to your farm, killing any wandering spirits on site as the sun rose when you’d finally ventured outside. The sun hadn’t even fully begun to peak over the horizon. An ombre of purple, pink, and gold cast a beautiful glow over the land. A heavy bag was slung across your back, filled with medical supplies and some refreshments. You knew a cross wouldn’t help you much, but in your desperation for any protection, you threw a stake in the shape of one in there as well. A golden consecrated cross on a chain was clasped around your neck and tucked away underneath your top. That would do more damage than any flimsy piece of wood any day, but you couldn’t be too safe. Not now.

Your brother looked at you as he blasted a warbling corpse, his features showed his delight at your presence. You ruffled his hair after he approached you, and pinched his cheek in affection. He nuzzled you, and you tried not to wince as he squeezed the covered up bruising around your waist. “Whatcha doin’ up? I can handle the mornin’ chores m’self just fine.” His incredulous voice bordered on a pout. He scrunched his little nose up at you, and you cooed at how adorable he looked. His need to take care of you apparent.

“I hafta make a day trip, hopin’ ta find some good stuff to sell.” You lied, and motioned to your backpack. “Should be back before sun down if I hurry. On m’ way, I’ll find Yaga, so that he can keep an eye on ya ‘till I get back.”

“I can take care o’ this place by myself, no problem!” He protested, his big twinkling eyes just begged you to let him this once. You knew better, knew he could, but you had to do everything you could to protect your only family. With a heavy sigh, you traced his face, brushed your thumbs across his eyelids, then shook your head.

“Too risky, bud. I know you can handle yer own, but I am here to protect you." you put extra emphasis on those words, hoping to make your point as clear as day. He was still a little boy, it was your responsibility to keep him safe. " A couple hours is one thing, but I’ll be gone all day.” He huffed in annoyance. You chuckled, it was fond, you could tell that he wasn't actually upset. “As long as I’m alive, I’ll do everythin’ in my power to keep ya safe.” He pouted, and turned his head away but gave in. He knew he couldn’t argue with you. Knew he couldn’t do enough begging to let him prove how reliable he could be. He hated feeling like he couldn’t protect you the way you protected him. You constantly sacrificed your wellbeing for his, shared your portion of the food, came back battered and bloody and bruised. For what? A weakling like him?

A ray of sunlight, as if on cue, cast itself upon you, as if the heavens were encouraging you to take your leave. You were ethereal, even the clouded eyes of your snot nosed little brother could see how beautiful you were plain as day. Everyone in town were just waiting for you to give in and marry someone with more money, marry someone for more protection, and he could see the way the men preyed upon you. Bided their time for you. He had to prove that he could keep you safe, but how? You pulled away as his soft pink brows continued to knit in frustration.

“Tell ya what,” you started then, your pretty eyes crinkled with delight. “I’ll find us some ice cream on the way back, and we can just…kick back for the evenin’. I’ll have Yaga patrol, and we can take the night off.” You hummed, his ears piqued with interest. “It sure is hard ta come by a sweet treat these days, but I might know a guy that’ll share? What d’ya say?” You poked his cheek, pinched his side, tucked his unruly hair behind his ear. How could he ever be a disobedient boy when you were just so caring? So thoughtful?

“Chocolate?”

“Anythin’ ya want.”

“Alrighty…” he trailed off, pouting bottom lip jutted out. He could act like a child just this once, right? You pushed off, and smiled at him then.

“See ya later, Yuji!” He watched as you made your way across your small farm, you stopped to pet the chickens and sheep in your stead. The few dairy cows you had, and your bull, made noises as you rushed by them. Waving and promising to return.

On your trek, you found Yaga like you said you would. He promised to keep Yuji safe, patting your shoulder when you thanked him profusely.

Outside of the town, you didn’t find many threats. Small mutant creatures here and there, not that there were many supernatural threats during daylight. You couldn’t tell if your run in with that powerful supernatural force made you more sensitive to them. Or if the mark on your neck said that you were off limits. Either way, it was the least amount of work you’d ever done during an expedition. You’d moved so fast, rushed yourself as thoughts of being a vampire’s captive bride consumed you in your loneliness. Even as you made your way across fields, beautiful sunlight doused your skin with love and protection, you felt an underlying dread.

Something tugged and pulled at your consciousness, the need to flee was so apparent. Yet there was also the primal need to be feasted on, your neck burned with the want for consumption. When you closed your eyes you saw those beady almost black orbs, that devilish grin, dripping red fantasies. You felt the nausea in your gut, the disgust for yourself and that God-forsaken noble.

The path that travelers crossed came into your view as your feet were beginning to ache. Everyone in town heard of hunters frequenting the seemingly never ending dirt trail. It was wide, a dark green forest was surrounding it from either side. The shade provided you solace from the beating sun, as the morning progressed, it only increased in heat. Birds chirped while you perched yourself against a tree, waiting for anyone to come by. If you were lucky you’d find someone before mid afternoon. You were praying to make it back before the actually dangerous beasts went out to prowl.

You tried to enjoy your packed snack, it was dried meat (aged perfectly), and an assortment of nuts. You were starving, but as your teeth bit into the tough flesh of what used to be one of your cows, you were instantly repulsed. The feeling of tearing into the meat, chewing it for a drawn out period, then swallowing the lump just wasn’t doing it for you. All you could picture was your own flesh, and being a meal for that vampire. You swallowed, not wasting a single thing as you knew meat was a commodity and you were lucky enough to be your own butcher. Even though you were lacking in money and treasure, you were rich in the resources provided by your farm. Your precious cow that you raised was in the palm of your hand, and you’d damn well savor her sacrifice.

The day dragged on, you kept your eyes peeled as you continued to wait. There was a faint hope that someone would come by that began to dwindle. The trees started to pick up a breeze, the sounds of the forest became a little more alive and a little more restless. You were thankful for the shade, you knew without it the early summer heat would be sweltering.

You watched rabbits hop along, scavenging for little red berries, then they feasted on a large clover patch. The clover’s scent calmed you, you stared at the rustling pink and purple blooms, the deep green leaves. When the few black bunnies scattered away, you ran your fingers through the patch. Scanning the leaves, plucking a couple of the flowers to snack on their sweet syrup. As you plucked a pastel purple bud, you accidentally snagged one of those velvety green leaves.

You couldn’t believe it, it had four of them.

The sound of something trotting and clambering filled your ears. It was distant, but you didn’t have to strain to hear it. You’d been out there for hours with only your thoughts, and the sound of the active forest. It was so distinct, you’d recognize the sound of a horse anywhere. With a thrumming heart that was rapidly increasing in speed as your nerves shot, you sprang into action.

The dark stranger knew you were coming before he’d even seen you. Could hear your rapid footsteps as they ran toward him, he even made out the sound of you throwing a bag off of yourself. Your movements didn’t phase him, he couldn’t even say that he felt threatened when you charged at him full force and then thrust your body some feet away from his horse.

He made sure to steady her. Smoothed down her shining black mane as she trotted two perfectly polished metal legs in place. He was more worried about his ticked off mare than some small thing clutching a gun in front of herself. There was no trembling in your stance, if anything you’d seemed absolutely determined to get him to stop.

Your squinted eyes took the stranger in, a large and long borderline-black navy hood hung off of his shoulders, the ends of which were clearly tattered. Wrinkled black denim hugged his legs and a tight black long sleeved button-up clung to his chest and arms. All of the buttons were snapped into place. (Later when the distance between the both of you would shorten, you’d notice that the first three buttons were undone.) His long onyx hair was silky smooth, you could tell even from a distance that it was carefully maintained. If you focused hard enough, the wind carried over his scent. It was something lightly sweet, yet it dangerously held an underlying spice. Like peppered jasmine. Perched on the top of his beautiful head of hair was a faded hat with an extremely wide brim. The dark fabric was so faded it was more of a muted green instead of the intended black. A rather large sword hung across his back.

You had to wonder how he hadn’t melted in the beating sun and scorching summer heat. He sat atop his horse, the reins loosely held in his hands. He was silently observing you, you smacked your lips in annoyance.

He made no show of reacting to you, he didn’t even outwardly acknowledge you when you charged him once more at his lack of response. “Hey, you!” You shouted, and without an ounce of hesitation, you fired at him. Your aim was for the dead center of his skull, and it would’ve landed had he not completely vanished before it could. There wasn’t so much as a puff of smoke, his horse was the only thing to bristle. Hardly, though.

You couldn’t believe your eyes as you watched the horse shake its head and then veer off into the grassy sidelines. You couldn’t spot the man, either. Not until he was pressed dangerously close to your back while you scanned your surroundings. Before you could react, he’d knocked your gun out of your hand. Good lord, you gulped, he was tall. Slim and perfectly muscular, you could feel it against your back. He smelled even better while close to you. Your damned heart rattled inside of its cage. You puffed out a frustrated breath, and leapt away.

You tried not to stare at him now that he was closer. His deep brown eyes were mesmerizing, curious. His face was still, there wasn’t a wrinkle in his brow or a tug at his lips. He didn’t look bored, angry, or frustrated. Your eyes found salvation in staring at his stretched ears instead. You’d seen some crazy piercings before, you could tell that stretched ears were a simple modification. But you’d never seen them before. The shining emerald and navy plugs in his ears caught the sunlight perfectly.

You tried your best to get some sort of a response from him, having resorted to flying fists and kicks. Not a punch would land, not so much as a jab would graze him. He was too fast, too good at dodging, and clearly if his sarcastic yawn had anything to say about it; he was getting bored too. You realized too late that he was just entertaining you. Didn’t dwell on why he’d even dragged the encounter on for as long as it was. His horse rested in the shade, the once active forest was, for some reason, completely silent save for the sounds of your frustrated grunts.

“You bastard, fight me! Not takin’ me seriously ‘cause I’m a woman? Or ya jus’ chicken shit?” On the contrary, he could tell that to any normal person, you could do some damage. He had to admit, he was impressed that you had the stamina to keep up with him.

He was fluid, moved as if he was one with the air. It was elegant, beautiful even. How were you thoroughly entranced by him mid fight? God’s above, was everything about this man breathtaking? As opposed to how desperate you were, sloppy, much too forced. “What’s the big sword about? If ya ain’t gonna use it, then I’ll just take it!” You’d played relatively fair that whole time, so he didn’t anticipate a gust of dirt to be thrown into his eyes and a sturdy kick to his chest. If he was anyone else it might’ve knocked him over, but he stood firm. Kicking him hurt like a bitch, yet you didn't let that fact show. You knocked his big sword off of his back, yet he remained unmoving, “Fuck man, what are you?” Your answer was more silence as he stood still. When you made a move to grab his discarded sword, he vanished again. As did the long dark clunk of metal you were trying to grab. “What the-?”

He was back onto his horse, and you could hardly keep up with him as he started onto the path once more. You sprang forward, ran after him and waved as you did so. “Wait, wait!! ‘M sorry!” The sound of your heavy footfall and even heavier panting had his ears perking. “I didn’t really want yer heavy lookin’ sword! Or to even hurt ya! Yer a hunter, ain’tcha? I jus’ wanted to see what you could do!” His horse continued to trot away, his broad back continued to obscure your blurring vision. You were beyond exhausted.

“Please, I need yer help! I’ll hire ya!” He steadied his horse finally, and turned his head to look at you. You finally caught up to him, your full chest heaved with every ragged intake of breath. His keen ears caught onto the erratic beating inside of your chest, the hot blood that pulsed through your veins and stuttering heart. He could smell something on you too. He knew what it was before you even said anything. “Take a look at this, ‘ere.” You pulled down the high neck of your top, exposing the bruised puncture wounds. “‘S the kiss of a noble.” The stranger got down from his horse then, enamored by the marks left on you. The painful looking veins that ran up and down the side of your neck, and branched off elsewhere.

His rosy lips finally opened, “How long ago did this happen? How many were there?” His floaty voice was lilted, deep, sultry. His tone was soft, and low. A gloved hand gripped your jaw without warning, and turned your head to the side. If he noticed the furious blush that overtook your awed features, he didn’t let on to that fact. His gaze was drawn to the blushed and burning mark on your delicious neck. You didn’t catch the way his piercing eyes would flit to your lip as you worried it between perfect incisors. He licked his own lips and smelled the mark, the scent of the noble emanated from it instantly. He scoffed, you were thoroughly branded.

“Jus’ last night, one noble. You a vampire hunter? Can ya help me?” You clutched onto his sleeve, reveled in the way he still held your jaw. He continued to inspect your wound and neck. He squeezed your jaw softly, your lips puckered the slightest bit. He tilted your face close to his, his searing touch caused your stomach to tense. He smelled so good, he was so pretty, you just didn’t know where to look or put your hands. He scanned your face, either uncaring or unaware of your inner turmoil, and finally he drew himself away.

“I can help you.”

You made a noise of delight, throwing yourself at his huge form. You hugged him close while you embraced him tightly.

“I can’t thank ya enough, sir!” It was his turn to be left stunned, for the first time in an admittedly very long time. Calculated golden brown eyes regarded your gyrating body, took in the sight of you under him. A foreboding feeling inside of him stirred, and he squashed the thought as soon as it manifested.

take her, rip into that sweet neck and take her

Okay, maybe it wasn’t a thought. He felt his right hand twitch, vibrating as if it were laughing beneath the glove. He resisted the urge to sigh heavily, instead he tensed that same hand and then deeply inhaled your scent. Saliva pooled at the tip of his tongue as it rested inside of his mouth. Your figure, despite being a terrible mess from jumping around and attempting to fight him, was a truly stunning sight.

Your hair was in disarray that settled as the time passed. Its color caught in the sunlight which emphasized the tangled strands. You were dirty from tumbling around, grey and brown smudges littered your arms, legs, and face. Your plush body was adorned by simple garments, but he still stirred at the sight. A tight sleeveless mock neck top, cropped just above your cute belly button. Those little shorts that hugged your thighs and hung low on your hips. Knit rainbow socks that were fading and almost too adorable in comparison to your scuffed up boots.

You fluttered tantalizing eyelashes up at him as you drew back. Your blush reddened, and in your bashful state you held your hands behind your back. His cool gaze finally fell to your heaving breasts, your tummy poking out from your cropped shirt, your insanely thick thighs. He had the sudden urge to spar with you again, and perhaps he would use his hands this time.

“I can’t pay ya with money, but m’ home is welcome t’ ya. You’d have three meals a day. Access to all the facilities, and m’ property. Could come ‘n go as you please. ‘N o’ course, if that ain’t enough you could…” your blush became impossibly more prominent, and to his amusement you drew your hands from behind and covered your face. “Have yer way with me, whenever and wherever you want. Jus’ please, sir, help me kill that noble fucker.” He hummed, but didn't give it much thought as he hauled you onto the back of his mare, then mounted her himself. He was close again, you could make out the feeling of his firm body, and he tried not to dwell on how soft yours was.

“Just call me, G. Lead the way, pretty girl.”

Now's your chance, bite into her neck.

He clenched his fist again, then wordlessly beckoned his horse to continue along the trail.

Pussy. You’re a pussy.

G. was used to being on his own, stuck with himself and his inner demons. His horse was his only companion, and she wasn’t much of a talker, either. Just the way he liked it. He’d spent many of his travels basking in endless quiet moonlight, or lounging under an old tree on those long peaceful summer days. It was crucial for him to maintain his collected attitude, embracing solitude. He needed to remain grounded and focused to better eradicate the creatures of the night. It was difficult for him to remain serene and composed when he had you talking his ear off, though.

As soon as he’d slotted himself behind you and kicked off, you’d opened your mouth. It was as if it was your life’s mission to play twenty questions with him. You were always quite the chatterbox, conversing with the overwhelmingly silent man came easy to you. You tried your best to fill the otherwise quiet hours with conversation. The sunlight hit the top of your head as you rode along the dirt path, your form bounced in time with her gentle trot.

“So y’been doin’ this a long time?”

“Yes.”

“Killed many nobles?”

“A few.”

“Where were ya headed before this? Hope ’m not keepin’ you.”

“Nowhere.” He paused as you pouted at his short responses, held back the chuckle that wanted to spill from his mouth, “Looking for monsters to kill, I go where they go.” You hummed, pleased that you were able to get a few more words out of him. He wasn’t such a tough nut to crack.

You were so thankful that he was letting you hitch a ride on his horse. Your feet ached from walking, not to mention this method of transportation would cut your time in half. You might even make it before sun down. You subconsciously leaned yourself against him, dwarfing yourself further. He kept his eyes ahead, took turns when you told him to, and you watched out for any potential danger. Your hands would wave around as you spoke, you attempted to get to know him a little better. A grin spread across your face and widened with each question answered.

“You, like, a mutant or somethin’? You were so damn quick over there, my eyes could hardly catch ya!”

“You could say that.”

“Well, whatever ya are, I sure do appreciate you helpin’ me out.” You were unsure if he was going to take you up on any of the things you’d offered. You didn’t have much to barter with, hardly had any money as well. You’d sustained almost all you had through trading, scavenging, and farming. Despite the rocky state of the world, money still did make it go ‘round. You really hoped he wouldn’t stick you with a fat bill by the end of all this.

You peered up at him, his gaze fixed on the path and your given direction. He sure was handsome, although that really wasn’t the right word. Elegantly beautiful, breathtakingly alluring. Anyone with eyes would be able to tell right away, regardless of proximity. Your face reddened with the idea of him and you and your unbecoming proposition. What would he be like? What faces would he make? The noises?

You shook your head, tried to rid it of those intrusive thoughts. The movement faintly tickled his chest. “Stay still, wouldn’t want you to fall.” He steadied you after noticing how your body slightly shifted to the side. Your gaze met his, when you lifted your head you weren’t expecting him to be staring down at you. “How am I supposed to collect my payment, if you’re badly injured? Or worse, dead.” You gulped, sparkling eyes immediately widened at his remark. His implication. Exactly which form of payment was he talking about?

Heat rose again, however as it did, a sharp pain pulsed in your neck. Your wound throbbed, a sickly heat spread throughout it. Your body felt fevered, you hunched over slightly at the unpleasant sensation. “Ah..” One of his big hands found their way to your hip, to steady you and pull you back into his hard chest.

You clutched at your neck while you turned to bury your face into him. His firm grip on you kept you grounded while you gripped his shirt tightly. “It hurts all of the sudden?!” your voice was hoarse, and there was a steady pounding in your head. Heat, intense burning, spreads throughout your body. Something was calling you, you pawed at your neck. A small noise of pleasure and pain made its way out of the debts of your stomach, your abs clenched, more heat traveled from your neck and pooled down below.

The more G.’s scent filled your being, an instinctual desire further clouded your already foggy mind. You pulled away as he stopped his horse, and stared up at him curiously. Something felt familiar, his smell was so comforting. The sun hadn’t set just yet, but the mid afternoon golden hour hit his luscious locks. Midnight emerald hues that shone in the vivid rays. His gaze, once golden-brown, was replaced by glowing violet. He’d stolen your breath the moment his shining orbs met your own. Drool pooled at the tip of your tongue as it heavily rested in your mouth.

In an instant you were pulled off the horse, your legs were wrapped around his slim waist. He’d backed you up against the trunk of a thick tree. Your body trembled in excitement, or fear? You couldn’t tell, yet you pulled him closer anyway. “G.~” your breathy tone caused him to shift, your core pressed against his broad body and another faint noise tumbled from your pouting maw.

“Does it hurt?” he looked around, how could the vampire’s curse be affecting you when there was still daylight? Just how much venom had been injected into your veins? Or was there a witch around? He couldn't sense anything, but that wasn't a reason to write off the possibility. Afterall, cloaking magic existed. He kept his ears trained on the rustling forest, there was no sign of a minion or even something as insignificant as a bird around. His foe must be very strong, if he can control you even in his slumber. You nodded, with your head against the trunk, your hair caught in the bark. It tangled, and stung, but all you could think about was the throbbing pain in your neck and the intense pulsing from your sensitive heat.

Warmth radiated off of you, he could feel where it was hottest. Glowing violet eyes studied the way you tried to control your writhing. “I can help you,” you peeked one of your closed eyes open and saw the way two pointed fangs protruded from his gaping maw. A hissing-like noise escaped him, and you almost moaned in anticipation. Your body craved those sparkling sharp canines more than anything. “If you’d like me to.”

“You’re a-”

“Dhampir.” his pointed nose nuzzled the wound on your neck, he deeply inhaled the strong scent wafting off of your body. “That alright? Want it?”

“Yes.” you sucked in your breath and held it while he gently grazed your wound with his teeth. He didn’t bite, but lapped at it instead. His warm tongue soothed your aching wound, and you gasped. Your hips rutted against his own, but you didn’t realize it. You were in a trance, with heavy arms you drew him closer. Pushed his face into the crook of your neck, as he continued to suck and lave copious amounts of saliva against it. You tasted so sweet, despite the scent of that noble fresh on you. It seeped from your bite, as if to fight G.’s own as it took over. “Ngh.” A loud thump rang out into the forest from your head smacking against the tree, it’d gone silent as soon as G. had bared his fangs. You were in pure bliss, a numbness began to overtake the once painful area. The looming man, the beautiful man with silky smooth hair and angelic features gently pricked your skin. Not because it was necessary, but because he couldn’t resist.

That’s right, bite her. Take her. You don't see ass as fine as this these days. She wants you, give it to her. You can’t fight it, after all you are just like those vampires at the end of the day, aren’t ya? That putrid blood runs through your very own veins.

His gloved hand snickered as he slammed it against the trunk, careful not to splinter it. Careful not to drop your grinding form. Your clinging form. Just a small taste of your ruby essence had him painfully straining against his tight pants. He maneuvered the both of you, rather than listen to the cackling in his head. The taunting voice as you unraveled underneath him beautifully.

He hadn’t kissed you, touched anything but your sides and neck, yet you felt you might climax before long.

G. gathered your curvaceous figure, his large palms supported you by your plump backside. His hands wandered farther than he meant them to, and you bucked into him again. He laid you on the soft ground, grabbed under your knee and brought it further up his back. He inspected the now numb wound, the way your ample breasts heaved with desire, the darkness in your eyes. Your cheeks were rosy, when had he last gazed upon someone so closely? Small shaky hands held his face, his sharp features hypnotized you. “Does it still hurt?” his deep voice startled you, and as your body jumped in surprise your core grinded against something heavy and firm in his pants. He didn’t make a noise, his expression remained unchanged, but you saw perspiration on his brow. A small dusting of rouge at the high points of his own cheeks.

“N-no,” words slurred together, “J-jus’ burns.”

“Where does it burn?”

“Mmm.” you whined, and ground against him, a slickness formed at the center of your little shorts.

“Your neck is better?” his inquiry fell on deaf ears, but he could tell that you weren’t in any pain regardless. Your neck was no longer hot, there wasn’t an obvious throbbing in it either. Your eyes were teary with desire, definitely a side effect from the wound and probably from his proximity and the blood that coursed through his veins. Your body knew something you didn’t but your hazy mind didn’t dare dwell on that. Not when he was rolling his hips into you.

The friction was enough to make you clamp down on nothing. You arched your back, your pebbled nipples shown obviously through your skimpy top. Your tummy folded with his movement, and he could confidently say he’d never had someone so beautiful under him before. He’d been around for a long time, yet being so mesmerized was a first for him.

His gloved hands explored your trembling chest, lifted your shirt to reveal your bouncing breasts. They jiggled with every drag of his hips, his hands palmed them one at a time. “May I taste?” he kissed your nipple then, and when you nodded in response his devious tongue poked out then sucked you in. A deep moan crawled up from the depths of his throat, it reverberated across your skin. The golden hour was shifting to sunset, but you didn’t care. You were so beyond aroused, a demon could pop out and you wouldn’t notice.

“Ugh, feels good.” your sweet voice cried out, and you gently ran your fingers through his hair. His scalp was sensitive, he hated when people touched it, but he practically purred as your almond shaped nails grazed it. He unbuckled his pants, it was so fast you didn’t know he did until his tight briefs were sliding against your short shorts. His fangs grazed your breasts, gently nipped at your nipples, but he didn’t draw any blood.

He moved in tune with your trembling hips, your bodies in perfect sync as you gave into temptation and instinct. It was slick, hot, he was just as aroused as you were. How were you so beautiful despite being covered in scrapes, bruises, dirt. He hated filthy people, he hated the uncleanliness that surrounded him on a daily basis. But he loved the salty sweet taste of your sweaty skin. He was enamored by your messy hair, your tattered clothes. Your delicious breasts kept calling to him. He lifted you up just so he could bite into your soft tummy, a bruise formed in its wake, then he dropped you right back into his lap. His pace slowed down, he deepened his movements so you could feel his throbbing erection.

He was in a trancelike state himself, equally drunk off of this sensation he hadn’t felt in probably decades. You lifted your hips, shimmied off your shorts, and revealed the tiniest black lace. Your plump hips and ass practically swallowed it. Saliva dripped from his mouth just to roll down your tummy and get absorbed by that very fabric. In the distance, as a fiery orange sunset began, he could hear coyote laughter. He felt like something that sounded just as cynical would pour out from his jaw. His glowing eyes intensified as he slid against you again.

There was no reason to do this, no reason to give into this animalistic desire. He’d already taken care of the pain, numbed that entire area with his own sedative-like saliva. Yet he continued to rut against you like some depraved virgin. Gentle noises escaped him as he finally gave in to the pleasure. Your panties were soaked. Slick stuck to your thighs, dripped down the curve of your ass. His briefs were stained darker the more that he mushed your pelvises together.

“Huff.” a heavy breath danced across your face, he leaned in closer to nudge your nose with his own.

A breeze poured in, briefly interrupting the heat of the moment. Your skin cooled, and a shiver wracked your already trembling form. G. shrugged his hood off, held you up so he could fasten it around you, and then continued his assault on your groin. You reached out to trace his handsome face again, your thumb squished his bottom lip, then pulled the top one to the side to reveal one shining fang.

With his rough movements, that only got rougher, your thumb jostled and his canine pricked it. A tiny bead of blood pebbled at the tip, a pleasured moan heavily fell from your glossy lips. You wiped it across his lips, pinched it just to make more come out. Your foggy eyes crinkled in further desire when he finally gave in and sucked it. He drew your thumb into his perfect mouth, and indulged in his little treat. Sucked, and scraped it just a bit more. A pool of wetness trickled out of you, and he could feel it. Smell it.

He threw his head back, exposed his pale neck, and you reached up to lick the sweat gathered there. Narrowed eyes watched as you laid him down into the soft grass. You straddled his sharp hips, laid your tits against him, and let your wetness consume him. You nibbled his chin, only to draw yourself back with your hand against his chest. Onyx hair pooled in the deep velvety green grass below the both of you, his hat a few inches away. He actually looked perplexed, maybe even pained.

You wanna bite her. You wanna taste that pumping hot iron. You wanna fuck the ever loving-

You pushed your dainty panties to the side, pulled his briefs down, and slid against him. It started so quickly, he didn’t know how you managed it, but you completely took him by surprise. From the moment he laid eyes on you, he could tell you were a feisty challenge of a woman. A spitfire he’d had yet to have in his company. Most people were rather timid in his presence, or threw themselves at him shamelessly. There was no in between.

At the end of the day, he knew this was all because of that noble’s kiss, not your own desire.

Seductive rolling hips and thick thighs cradled his slim waist. Puffy lower lips kissed his hot length at a tantalizing pace. You slid against him so well, it almost felt like you were actually having sex. Copulation was never at the forefront of his mind, he was so focused on ridding the world of evil beasts, that he hardly indulged in actual food. He trailed his hands up your sides, pulled his left glove off to squeeze your bouncing breasts once more. You brushed his hand away, guided it to your ass instead. Your breasts felt so nice squished against him, and you pecked him while you picked up the pace. It was so small, he wouldn’t have noticed that your lips touched if he wasn’t so zeroed in on everything you were doing. You wrapped your trembling fingers into his silken hair, and pressed your foreheads together. Frotting in the grass, his hood billowing in the wind and swallowing your figure, your tongue sticking out. His eyes went from narrow slits into genuine hearts as he kissed you at last. He closed the gap, closed his eyes, swallowed your lolling tongue into a fiery lip lock that had you moaning out loud. So loud, you were thankful there were no other people around.

He hated sweat, he never got hot. He was working up a sweat for the first time, he held you close and moved his hips deeper into you. Your clit repeatedly kissed the head of his swollen prick, the head occasionally prodded your entrance. A loud pop rang out every now and again, there was no way you’d be able to take him right there. But god did that sinful stretch feel so good, you had to fight with your body so as to not just fully sink down onto it. His chest flushed, you were getting sloppy. You had to be close.

Your puckered lips kissed him repeatedly, you didn’t want to separate your chests so you hugged yourself against him. Your thighs and hips burned with exhaustion. Your bareback for the day was finally catching up to you, and you whined. You just needed to feel that winding coil snap. You had to. His bare hand that was tightly gripping your ass for dear life snaked itself between your legs. Perfectly manicured nails rubbed at the rubbery smooth mound between your legs and you squeezed your legs together as best as you could.

“Ah! Shit!” you threw your head back, then collapsed into his chest again. Your body was limp finally, and you let him have his way with your aching slit. A deft digit traced your entrance, experimentally squeezed itself inside, and then rubbed against that sponge-y spot that had you loudly cry out again. Your voice was heavenly, he loved how your spine arched deeper. It was easier for him to insert his ring and middle finger in. Come hither motions had you throw your hips back in time with his rocking wrist. You rode his impossibly long fingers, and drooled against his chest. Tears leaked from your eyes as his gloved hand brought you down onto his pelvis again. Despite the fingers nestled into your dripping heat, he somehow bullied his engorged cockhead inside as well. At that point, could even be considered a virgin anymore? He didn’t move, G. knew he wouldn’t be able to thrust inside all the way. But his big fingers were already inside, the stretch must’ve stung so much. You hissed in pleasure, to his surprise (yet again).

“Yes!” your eyes were squeezed shut once more, and he moved his fingers in and out. His cock stayed in place, loved the way you squeezed around him and gushed more. His fingers felt good, so good as they reached far into you and then pulled almost all the way out. It didn’t hurt, but it definitely did sting. It was so addicting, but not as much as your fingers were as they scraped his sensitive scalp.

“Ngh…ah…” low noises rumbled in the back of his throat, he opened his mouth to moan with you as you unconsciously got him off by pulling his hair. You massaged his scalp, ran your fingers through inky tresses, and he had to repress that nasty urge to sink his fangs deep into your pounding pulse. It took everything in him not to ram his aching dick all the way inside of you. He knew you’d be so tight, the back of your throbbing hole would kiss his head so lovingly.

Bite her you disgusting bastard, y’know you wanna~.

His hand cackled inside of his head, he held you close just to roll his hips against you harder. Faster. He was close, his release was tight in his stomach. There was a knot that was just begging to snap. Your sweat danced with his, and not an ounce of pain was felt anymore. Just a searing hot pleasure just about to boil over. Mushing, sticky rubbing was all you could think about, your mind was too hazy to take in your steadily darkening surroundings. The sun still poked out, just barely, the sound of the forest coming alive once again was finally becoming clearer. Your own animalistic grunting and moaning filled the small patch of grass you occupied.

“M’gonna cum.” Your slurred proclamation had him sinking a little deeper inside. His fingers were brutal in their pace, and he laid you out as his release threatened to wash over him. Pink and magenta rays of sun kissed your dripping skin, his hair tickled your face. Toned thighs nudged your own apart once more, his angry cock slid against you again while he rubbed your clit. He poked and prodded your tight entrance, and he held himself in place. His eyes were still glowing that unnatural hue, his large uncovered palm spread your legs flush against the ground, bending them at your sides. It burned, your orgasm quickly approached while his silky hair curtained your surroundings. His violet eyes held your stare, your eyebrows drew together as you haggardly heaved your breaths and moaned so prettily.

What was he doing? With a client no less. Had he no shame?

“Fuck,” he swat at your clit and you gushed around him. “Cum for me.” He spit on your face, grabbed your jaw tight. A slimy tongue licked a trail up the side of your face and gathered your shedding tears. You nodded, sweet symphonies left your parted lips. “Pretty, you’re so beautiful.” He gushed, his bare hand ran up your side and rubbed at both of your breasts. He squeezed them, and leaned down to nip and kiss them both. Tiny red marks were left as proof of his kisses. “I haven’t even killed the bastard, and you’re already giving me such a sweet reward. How can I wait for the actual payment? You taste so sweet.” It was the most you’d heard him speak that whole day. He was singing sweet harmonies with you, your echoing voices made a sensual duet as the sun continued to set.

Crickets began to chirp, your back rose in a desperate arch. His gaze widened, his pace quickened. He’d never seen something so breathtaking, not in his entire life. He swallowed your breasts, his mouth needed something inside of it. If it wasn't your chest, it was your tongue, or your finger. He loved the way you tasted, thoughts of your earlier tumble and scuffle and hours of sweating flew out of his mind. If he was of sound mind, he'd be repulsed, but in that moment he was licking your lips and (gently) biting at your neck.

“Gonna cum, may I come inside?”

You frantically nodded your head, and he kissed you. He pulled you close, felt your body tense and your insides pulse. Your body wracked with shivers as your orgasm came over you. “Ngh.” He came as he felt more of your slick gush down his throbbing length. Your exhausted frame slumped into the ground, you felt completely spent after hours of fooling around. You didn’t have much daylight left, you needed to get up and get home to your brother. What were you thinking? Embarrassment burned your cheeks.

“I am so sorry, ‘m not sure what came over me.”

“The noble cast a spell upon you, this will happen from time to time.” G. explained while he fixed his pants. When you blinked he was by your side with a wet rag. He'd made sure to wet it with clean water from one of his canteens. His top was undone a little more, and you clung to him as he cleaned you up. He rubbed your thighs, and wiped your face off. His sponge bath felt too relaxing, and as you continued to lose daylight you surprisingly didn’t feel any less safe. He helped you get dressed, kept his hood draped around your shoulders. He handed you a different, smaller canteen of water. You groggily sipped from it, your appreciation didn't need to be verbalized. Another gentle breeze blew through your sweaty messy hair, and you sighed in a content state. He pulled you up, and situated you in front of him on his horse once again.

The night settled in, and it was eerily still. You were so much later than you told Yaga you’d be. Yet you still didn’t feel any danger lurking in the darkness. The stars danced and twinkled in the sky above, it was an endless sea of sparkling blue. It was such a calm evening, you could see everything ahead of you clearly. The fog from the prior night was not anywhere to be found. There were no creatures slinking in front of you, no undead. As you passed into the threshold of your town at last, you breathed out a sigh of relief. (Despite the rude and questioning stares that followed you on your way home.) You made a detour for the ice cream your brother promised before you began the trek to your property.

Your cozy farm was seemingly untouched, the barrier was raised. You pointed your remote at it with a shaky hand, and disengaged the security system. Your brother poked his head out of a window, when he heard the noise. His eyes lit up, and he raced out to you. The tall man babysitting him shouted after him, in exasperation.

“Yuji, d’ya know what time it is? Get back ta bed!” He stopped his scolding when he saw you, and the mysterious man that held you against himself. His words caught in his throat, “Goodness, what happened?”

“Jus’ not feelin’ too well lately. I’ve hired an extra set o’ hands.” You lied smoothly, well half lied, as you spoke you struggled to sit up fully. Yuji raced to the side of the horse immediately, he stopped himself from gushing over the half bionic creature. He was too worried about the state in which you returned.

“Sis, you’ve been sick?!” He rushed to help you off of the massive horse, and helped you lean against his smaller frame. You felt weak against him, he was a strong boy but you’d never felt so light before. He hoisted you onto his back and raced back inside. You’d been burning up, he rushed to give you something to reduce your fever.

“G.,” you reached out in front of you, your eyes beginning to shut. The man was by your side in an instant, he crouched down beside you. “It’s starting to throb again.” This time there was no desire. The peaceful early evening crept towards an endless howling darkness. Something felt ominous, and Yaga powered your barrier back up. The system zapped into place, and he held a gun across his chest.

“Get some rest darlin’, I got this place covered t’night.” Yaga urged you to make your way up to your room. Yuji nodded, he’d ask you about the strange man you brought home some other time. Besides, the tall man looked like a new friend. Especially if he cradled you in such a protective way. G. held you close and followed your directions just like he’d been doing all day. He was drawn to your sigh as you sunk into your big mattress. He hadn’t slept in a bed in such a long time, and you silently willed him to lay beside you.

“It hurts.” He didn’t hesitate to hover over you, draw his fangs out and suck on your neck just like earlier. When it began to go numb again, you thanked him profusely. “Reckon there’ll be more nightmares.” You mumbled, yet your eyes still shut. Your body still relaxed heavily into your mattress.

“Sleep now.” The quiet man let you cling to him as you drifted off into the abyss, his scent calmed your once rapidly beating heart. You’d never met the man in your life, yet he felt so safe, so familiar. Your body cried out as if it knew him. Or at least something inside of you knew him. His wish was your command, and sleep took over as quickly as you thought about it. The exhaustion finally caught up to you. Before you fully lost consciousness, you’d heard him utter a quiet apology into the otherwise empty room. “I pushed you too hard today, sorry pretty girl. I’ll be more careful in the future.” You nuzzled into him further, and finally let the depths consume you.

•

You saw flashes of cold, dark brown eyes, all around you. You were surrounded by a sinking abyss, black walls and grey smoke at your feet. You tried to shout, to make any noise but it died in your throat. All that came out were visible cold puffs of air. It was freezing. Your body wanted to shiver, but something inside of you felt just warm enough to endure. As you caught the glimpse of eyes you desperately tried to run away from, you silently cried out for anyone to hear you. To see you. To pull you out. You were in a tattered white wedding gown. The further you ran the more distressed it became despite not brushing up or getting caught in anything. Your feet were bare, and became scraped, somehow your legs even became scratched up. As if you were running through invisible thorn bushes.

“H..” you tried to scream out help but it kept getting caught in your throat. Your foot caught on itself, and you tumbled face first into the ground. It didn’t hurt, if anything your hands grasped at it for dear life. Your body finally began to feel warm again, the dull throb began to subside as well.

“W-wake up.” You tried to will yourself, you’d figured this was all a dream when you fell down. Almost as if it shook you awake, despite still being surrounded by the loathsome darkness. You stared down at the ground, felt eyes surround you once more. There was something so soothing about the somehow warm ground, you clutched and scraped at it to see if anything would give. If it was dirt it’d be beneath your nails, but there was nothing. It wasn’t clothes, you couldn’t bunch it up. You felt around in the darkness for anything to grasp onto.

Tears sprang up from your eyes, yet they confused you. You weren’t upset, you were just frustrated. Why were you crying? Your hands finally found purchase on something. As they grasped around a handle you frantically tugged. It was the door to a hatch, or something underground. Maybe it was a way out? You desperately tugged and pulled, but it wouldn’t budge.

You grunted in frustration, how could you work up a sweat in your dream? Before that thought could properly form, you felt something cold wash over you. Then your eyes snapped open. The rooster crowed outside, the tiniest speck of the sunrise shown through your window. You were still in a daze as you looked down, your cracked window let a gentle breeze blow your hair in the wind. Below you was the curious pointed gaze of your hired bodyguard. Small hands gripped around his throat. Familiar hands. Your hands. You gasped and hastily pulled them away.

“I am so- Well I am jus’-!” You were so flustered, it pulled the faintest of smirks from his otherwise relaxed expression.

“No need to apologize.” He picked himself up, and you clambered off of his lean body. “You can’t hurt me, and neither can that curse. It can try to, however. The sight was quite amusing.” A cheshire grin spread across his elegant features, his eyes crinkled in heady amusement. You finally took a good look at him, with a clear mind and bathed in the sweet rising sunlight. His dark clothes were wrinkled, yet he didn’t appear disheveled. His hair was perfectly laid in place. Not a strand was astray.

“Lemme give you a tour o’ the place. Then I’ll whip us up some breakfast.” He wordlessly followed you around your room, you tidied yourself up. Tiny little dark denim shorts, even shorter than yesterday, had your ass peaking out just below them. A tight spaghetti strap tank top, dark grey, clung to your ample chest. If one were to stare at you for too long, they’d notice the faintest bloomed marks on the swell of them as well as one on your tummy. The top rested above your navel, was this the latest fashion trend? Exposing our midriffs? It’d been a while since he’d been around women of that time. Was this a statement, or for practicality? You threw on slightly less battered boots than yesterday, and tied a red bandana around your neck. Something to cover the wound that still hadn’t gone down in size. Languid fingers brushed through your hair and into a style that would quickly get your hair up and out of the way.

You’d felt refreshed, took in a deep inhale of the morning air when you finally opened the door to your front porch. Chickens clucked around your yard, G.’s horse stood in the middle of a small flock. She clicked her metal hoof, and flicked her silky black tail, but made no move to seriously shoo them away from her space. Yuji was chasing a lamb around, trying to wrangle it back into its original pen with the rest of the sheep. It made a noise of protest as he finally got ahold of it, and moved it back in with its parents. He saw you on the porch, watching him, and waved you both over enthusiastically.

When you finally walked over, he clung to your arm. Fluffy unruly pink hair brushed against your bare arm. You cooed affectionately brushed your fingers through it. When he looked up at you, his big brown eyes widened like he remembered something important.

“Don’ you worry ‘bout the chores, sis. I can handle ‘em all. You just go rest ‘n get better. I’ll show this guy the ropes.” Yuji tried to push you back towards the house, his wide eyes squinted and tongue poked out with determination. You chuckled, and let him get you back to the porch. He led you to a large swinging bench.

“Well what was the point of walkin’ over t’ya if you were just gonna send me right back inside?” You giggled, but still sat on the plush porch swing that overlooked the front of your property. The cushions were well maintained. You’d found the beaten up floral cushions in an abandoned house a while back. It was your mission to fix up the house your parents left you, yet the only thing you’d had time to fix was the swing. You stained the wood burgundy, used whatever baking soda and detergent you could on the once brown cushions, now a faded cream color with what was probably pastel pink flowers. The once rickety hinges were now silent as you gently swayed back and forth, the chains that held the seat up were replaced as well. You laid your body down, fully resting sideways to watch your brother. The warm sunlight as it took over was comforting, the birds singing brought a lazy smile to your face. How could you be so relaxed in such a violent world? G.’s curiosity was thoroughly piqued.

“Well,” Yuji kicked his feet, hands held behind his back as he looked down, “I jus’ got excited. I miss you.” He mumbled, you could barely hear him but the bright smile that took over your features at your cute little brother’s admission practically blinded G.

“Well, alright, I’ll leave ya to it.” You shooed him away, but not before pulling G. closer. He knelt down as your brother waited for you to finish talking. “If ‘s too much, don’t do it. I’d hate to have ya help out when it’s not what yer here-.”

“It’s not a problem. I can do it.” He leaned down, something suddenly came over him, he just had to nuzzle his nose against yours. Calculated eyes held warmth that he wasn’t ready to share, but he was but a victim of desire. His inky tresses tickled your face, pointed nose brushed against yours so affectionately. He had to admit it, just a night and he was enamored. His usually stagnant heart just couldn’t stop from its erratic dance when he saw you. He felt the urge to protect you.

He rose, his hood billowed as some wind picked up, and his sharp gaze suddenly turn towards the outskirts of your property. He’d heard hooves, angry mumbling, frantic footfalls. It wasn’t dark out, and yet he could smell smoke and fire, the telltale signs of an angry mob. He stood in front of you protectively, instinctively reached behind to soothe your worried head. You could hear them as they got closer, your confused eyes searched the crowd as it appeared. You could recognize everyone, all of the people that flooded your front yard were people you grew up with around town.

The usual warm smiles and sleepy eyes were filled with something tense in the men. Lips pulled back and frightened scowls littered the children and women. Small children clutched their mother’s garments, men held pitchforks and torches. Women carried rosaries and crosses clutched in their hands, mouthing silent prayers. You were completely bewildered, what was going on?

“You!” Finally a man spoke up, pompous nose upturned, blond hair styled in a gaudy poof, bright pink suit tailored and embroidered with flowers. The mayor's son, you rolled your eyes, just who you needed to see.

“What is it now, Eugene?” You sighed, and lifted yourself up, but it was too fast and you clutched your head as dizziness overtook you. G. balanced you, and you held onto his arm for support. When did you become so exhausted? You’d just woken up.

“What’s under the bandana?” He lacked any tact. You sighed, and pinched the bridge of your nose.

The sheriff of your town held a pipe in his hand, the other loosely held the reins to his horse. He was at the front of the crowd, right there with the mayor and his son. A slim yet well-built man, dark brown western style hat beat up, boots scuffed just the same. His horse was older, a brown beauty he took pride in, and he gently climbed off of her.

“Sweetheart,” he started, trying to ease the tensions amongst everyone. He knew you. They all did. “There’s been some talk, since ya left yesterday mornin’. About the Zen’in’s findin’ another bride.” You rubbed his neck, clearly not having to be the one to say any of this. You looked around amongst the townsfolk, and then back at the sheriff.

“What’s that hafta’ to do with me?” Yaga made his way out of your house then, he stood tall beside you when he realized just what he walked out to. Your bite burned again, heat rose to your cheeks. Cursed vampires, cursed wound, cursed town.

“Well,” he blew out some smoke then, “I know yer not in cahoots with those damn dirty nobles. Please, darlin’, just give these people that peace o’ mind. Show ‘em yer neck, ‘n we’ll be on our way.”

“Like that slut would show y’all anythin’, o’ course she’s slept with him. I say we burn this place ‘fore they can get ta the rest of us!” The mayors son proclaimed, clearly still upset from your numerous rejections. He’d proposed marriage on several occasions, the most recent just a couple days prior to your attack. Seemed like his wounds were still fresh.

You rubbed your carefully trimmed brow with the tip of a pretty polished finger. “I’m not the plaything of some bastard noble. I don’t hafta prove shit to y'all.” You crossed your arms over your chest, and huffed while you defiantly turned your head to the side.

“This harlot is scared shitless, don' let 'er fool ya, quick! Someone grab ‘er and rip that damn scarf off!” The mayor chimed in, backing his sons accusation. He was in the comfort of a carriage, monocle askew as if he’d been rubbing under his eyes, still in his off white pajamas that were a size too small for his plump stomach. He pointed a meaty finger in your direction, as if to sick his dogs on you. The crowd riled up, encouraged by their mayor.

Eugene seemed to give up on the idea of anyone taking the leap, so he himself rushed over to you in an attempt to take the bandana off. G. didn’t let him get far, he knocked him over before the poor bastard could even blink. He was winded, landed on the ground in a puff of dust and a loud thud, “Oof!” He rubbed his backside, his face red with embarrassment. “Who the hell is this? Why’s he shackin’ up at your place?”

“He’s my farmhand while I recover.” You looked around, at sheriff Higuruma, at the children scared for their safety, your peers. “I…” you gulped, realizing you owed it to at least those people your honesty, “I was attacked. I didn’t want this, the Zen’in head assaulted me. G. is here to take care of him for us. I am not with those vile nobles.” You pleaded, finally undoing your scarf and revealing your pulsing wound to those around. Some gasped, some women fainted he’ll be after us next, I jus' know it, others shook their heads and crossed themselves with their rosaries.

Higuruma came up to you then, crossing onto your porch and made his way next to you on the bench. Yaga was by your side in that instant as well, he was the town doctor after all. “Y’ shoulda’ told me ‘bout this sooner. Did ya even disinfect it properly?”

“I did it for her.” G. stated, stepping to the side to give the men some room, he kept a cautious eye on the rest of the crowd.

Yaga eyed the stoic man, “I thank ya kindly for takin’ care of my girl here.” Yaga was like a father to you and your brother, or a fatherly uncle. He was close friends with your parents and swore to protect the both of you to the best of his ability if anything were to happen to them. You began sweating, kept the pain you were feeling to yourself. You held G.’s hand when he stepped closer to you again, sensed your pain and wanted to comfort you. Why did he want to comfort you? “If ya don’t mind me askin’, what makes you think you can stop those nobles? Y’ seem strong, but that won’t get ya very far. ‘N we all know the only way to truly stop a noble is…”

“To put them down.” G. finished Yaga’s sentence, caressed the top of your head. “He won’t be my first vampire, and he definitely wont be my last. I’m rather good at this.” His confidence boosted your spirits, made you hopeful that you’d be rid of this damned curse. That he’d do it before it was too late for you.

“Why should we trust this wench? The moment she let herself be attacked by that thing, her rights were forfeit! Who cares ‘bout this hunter, how d' we know he’s even tellin’ the truth? How could this man possibly protect our village ‘n kill that noble?!” The mayor exclaimed, further encouraging the people around him in their apprehension. Voices in agreement, some in acknowledgment and contemplation, gradually grew. It felt like you were slowly being swallowed by a large shadow. It clouded the vignette of your vision, your insecurity and feelings of being overwhelmed threatened to consume you whole. You were feeling so hot yet again, Yuji immediately caught on to your discomfort and poorly state; so he rushed over to you. Droplets of beading sweat began to pebble on your forehead, as your fever began to rear its ugly head into you.

Your brother made a noise in the back of his throat at the sight of you, got you to your feet and let you climb onto his back again. “Don’t worry ‘bout those chores, mister. Jus’ keep these people out while I put my sister back inta bed.” G. nodded, and your brother made his way inside and up the steps with you on his back.

G.’s leering figure almost appeared to double in size to the people in the yard as he stood guard outside of the door. He was suddenly so intimidating, no one dared approach the house further. An almost demonic-like aura radiated from his form, swirling black tendrils began to emanate from his feet then up to his silhouette. A wide, toothy, contemptuous grin spread across his face as he stared at the mayor and his son. His piercing, condescending eyes crinkled. Long thin legs began their descent from the porch, and made their way across to the father-son duo.

“Mmn…” G. made a contemplative noise as he eyed the crowd that steadily backed away from him. It was as if a dark shadow cast itself among the frightened townsfolk, the sound of the farm and surrounding land went silent. The people kept their voices to hushed whispers amongst themselves as he began to speak, “I implore you to give me some time, two more days.” His voice dripped with fake sincerity. He was clearly feigning his pleading, mocking those that were so frightened by such a small woman and a bite wound of all things. As if killing her would stop that noble’s search amongst the rest of these insolent, puny people, “If I am to fail, I’ll take care of her myself.” He held a slim, sharp hand across his heart. “Would you like me to prove my abilities to you all?”

The mayor gulped, then cleared his throat. “I g-guess we have no choice, then.” He motioned for everyone to leave, while his son stayed put. G. smiled, but it lacked sincerity, he nodded along as if content with the chubby man’s answer.

Two more nights, and you’d be rid of that damned curse.

•

a/n: okay so, obviously like half of this doesn’t happen in the actual film, basically like none of it, it’s loosely based off of it! I hope yall could still see the references and inspiration and I kept the general set up the same :) also, requests and prompts are open. I’d love to write more, and am open to ideas!! I hope yall enjoyed this, I put a lot of thought into it. The next two parts will be released relatively soon :) so be on the lookout!!

a/n: this was a gift for @peachyysobs

[baldursgate3tempobsessed]

K follow me Astarion just sees tav like loving on children wherever they go and hes like?????

And tavs like ive always wanted my own child but i didn't wabt to ask you with every

This sends poor starion into a crisis does he was children how many

I think I have followed you. Let's see!

So for this one we got a lil time jump, ambiguous and vague setting and timelines with game spoilers present. M/F pairing because that is my go to and pregnancy is mentioned. Vampiric pregnancy also so there is some weirdness there (i made it up no idea if it's dnd accurate). Vague Tav backstory of a wonderful mother and going off to become a cleric.

~

Astarion was well used to your antics by this point. You had a severe lack of instincts linked to self-preservation, which led to a consistent pattern of doing, frankly, stupid shit. Stupid, but kind. Nothing that Astarion hadn't adapted to, after nearly two years of being attached at the hip you became pretty attuned to your lover's personality.

He could even go as far as to say that he had grown to love your annoying predilection for pious morality. Perhaps he loved talking you out of certain virtuous dangers more, but still. He appreciated who you were, he adored who you were. But Astarion was no saint, despite his insistence on attaching himself to one.

Which is exactly why he was far from amused when you signed him up to babysit a couple of brats. All for acquittances he barely cared about.

But you at least had the good grace to look guilty, "I didn't mean to! But she looked so tired and she said their anniversary was coming up and it's not like we got anything for their wedding-"

That was a nice try, one that Astarion wasn't falling for, "We didn't know of their existence when they got married darling. Just because I can't remember their names doesn't mean you can trick me."

"I'm not trying to trick you!" You whined, arms crossed as you pouted. It sure felt like a trick, especially when Astarion knew that you were well-aware how easily he fell for your sulking. Adorable little monster that you were, "It's only three kids and a baby for one night, it won't be that bad! You don't even have to help-"

Astarion rolled his eyes as he sat next to you on the bed, "I didn't say I wouldn't help."

That seemed to do the trick to get the pout off of your face. You perked up immediately, looking at him like you couldn't quite believe it, "Really?"

"Yes, really," Astarion sighed as you tugged you closer. Sure he liked to bitch, but he really would do anything for you. Even extremely annoying things like this, "I'm not going to sit back and feed you to the wolves."

"They're not wolves! The oldest is barely five," You laughed as you let him manhandle you, settling you into his lap, "And I am sorry, I really wasn't thinking. I promise it won't happen again."

Astarion doubted that, not when he was well-versed of your weak spot for children. No matter where you went you couldn't help but fawn over them, not to mention the insane lengths you would go to keep any child safe. It was a complete and utter blind spot, your kindness extending to them all, even the little scam artists and hellions.

It was sweet, if not extremely worrying at first. Astarion had been terrified of you finding out his past. The things that he had been forced to do, the innocents whose lives he had destroyed. But not only did you find out, you were forced to see it. Both of you were, and it had been worse than anything Astarion could have imagined. He had always found a slight comfort knowing that those he captured would at least die quickly, that at the very least they wouldn't suffer the same agonizing fate as he, just an agonizing death. But no, even that small comfort had been a lie. The horror of finding them all down there has yet to be matched. He had never felt more self-loathing, more pure disgust than the moment he had found those children, tortured and pale, all because of him.

How you didn't see him for the wretched thing he was after all that, Astarion wasn't sure. But he was grateful. You were too good for him. A fact that he was devastatingly aware of, but that wasn't going to stop him from keeping you.

He still thinks about it on occasion, despite the fact that he had done all he could to right his wrongs. They all at least had a chance now to have a life worth living, Astarion could only hope that it would be used. Their future was out of his hands now, a small comfort.

But despite his complicated feelings towards children, he was more than capable of handling them for one evening. And in all honesty, he truly didn't have to do much. He was on self-mandated baby duty, because of course you had to help out the infant that would scream bloody murder unless it was being held. Keeping her tucked against him was a move of self-preservation, if he ever wanted to retain his hearing.

Most of the night was spent amused as he watched you entertain a gaggle of toddlers. You were so... creative with the ways you could defuse their antics. It came to you so naturally, nearly like you were a born mother yourself. It wasn't exactly surprising that you were fantastic with children, he had seen it time and time again. Arabella, Mol, Yenna, all of which still wrote you letters, visited occasionally. Staying forever attached, even from a distance.

Now that Astarion thought about it, it was odd that you weren't a mother. Odder still that you hadn't never even brought up the possibility of having children together. You were usually so open with your wants and always encouraging the same from him. Just one more thing he loved about you. But... why hadn't it been mentioned? Astarion had always assumed it was because you didn't truly want any of your own, that you enjoyed their fun innocence while avoiding the more laborious responsibility of raising them.

Though watching you take care of them all, changing diapers and negotiating silly arguments with a soft smile of your face had him rethinking his assumption.

"You're good with them," Astarion said eventually after you had successfully set the older three down for the night, the baby still stubbornly clinging to him, "I don't think there's a child we've met that doesn't adore you."

You laughed quietly, walking over to kiss him softly on the cheek. Your eyes wandered to the sleeping infant in his arms, still holding a piece of his shirt in it's little fist, "You don't seem to be too bad with them either."

"Newborns don't know any better," Astarion dismissed as he tried to put her down in their borrowed crib. Tried and failed, considering how the thing immediately started to whine the second he attempted to pry it's little hand away.

Oh for fuck's sake. Astarion wasn't even going to try and argue. Instead he unbuttoned his shirt and let it fall into the crib with her, seemingly doing the trick of stopping her from waking completely.

When he turned back you were staring at him with soft eyes, looking lovestruck at the simple act of him laying a child down, "Looks like she has pretty good taste to me."

"I don't think your judgment should be trusted," Astarion huffed as he walked over to you, grabbing your hand to drag you to the bedroom. He glanced back at you, his heart nearly skipping a beat from the sweet way you kept looking at him. It had his mind wandering again, those questions still nagging him.

Questions that he didn't have the courage to ask until dead of night, when he had you half asleep against his bare chest, "Have you ever thought of having children?"

He hadn't meant to blurt that out in the middle of the night, but Astarion apparently had a knack for starting important conversations at inconvenient times. Not that you minded.

You just cuddled into him closer, nodding against him with a sigh, "I've always wanted my own children. My own mother, Gods bless her soul, made it all sound so magical. Pregnancy, the early years, puberty, all of it. She loved it all. And I guess it rubbed off on me. It used to be all I could think about, before real life got in the way."

Astarion listened, a little annoyed at himself for not putting the pieces together sooner. You had talked so lovingly about your late parents, how you always wanted to be like your mother. Of course you would want children. How had he not connected the dots?

"But then I went off to the temple," You continued, "I completed my training, went off into the world to do good, blah, blah, blah. You know the story."

"So you grew out of the idea?" Astarion asked.

"Not exactly," You admitted, sounding a little guilty, "But I would never ask that of you love, it's not something you have to worry about."

That-what?

Astarion stared down at you, brow furrowed, "What do you mean?"

"I mean I know that the topic of children is... difficult for you. Considering everything you've been through-"

"I think you mean to say everything I've inflicted on others," Astarion interrupted, unwilling to allow himself grace. Especially when it came to the children of the Gur, "It was much worse for them than me."

You nodded, knowing better than to try and fight him on that particular topic, "I understand, but my point is that I can live without them. You're all I need."

It was comforting to hear, an immediate balm to a brand new set of insecurities that Astarion hadn't been prepared for. But even so... he hated the idea of you sacrificing even more for him. It felt wrong, "But-"

"But nothing," You interrupted softly, setting a quick kiss to his mouth, I'm serious Astarion, you don't need to worry. I'm happy, I love you, and everything is fine."

"I love you too," Astarion murmured, at a loss to say anything else. But the conversation didn't end there.

Astarion couldn't stop thinking about it, even long after the temporary children were sent back home. ou seemed so... sure that he didn't want children, and a week ago he probably would have agreed. But that was back before he knew that he was actively keeping you away from something you wanted. Something you had dreamed about since you were a child. And it felt wrong to be the reason for that, so, so wrong.

He didn't even know if his true feelings on the matter were real. He didn't want children for many of the same reasons he never wanted a partner. The attachment to another was dangerous, he was beyond unequipped to deal with others, let alone care for them, and the entire ideology behind love was ripe for manipulation and heart break. But then he met you and everything changed. Suddenly, caring for another didn't feel like a weakness, it felt like the strongest aspect of his entire self. Taking care of you wasn't an unwanted duty, it was intimacy. Something that he now craved. If all of those steadfast ideals could fall apart simply through meeting you, whose to say he could even trust himself when it came the thoughts around having a child?

Would having one truly be so bad? A little piece of the two of you, alive in the world? And perhaps children were annoying but... Astarion would be lying if he said he didn't have a soft spot for them. He had kept his distance before, but now he was fully confident that he wasn't a danger, no with Cazador burned to nothing bus ash and his own bloodlust well controlled. And it's not as if he was incapable of being a father, worse men than him did it everyday.

It was a confusing place to be, this tightwire of indecisiveness. Confusing enough for him to start a bit of research. He was vaguely aware that it was possible for his kind to breed, but finding out the details was disheartening, to say the least. First he had to parse out the different horror stories of babes eating their way out of their mother's wombs with actual facts, which wasn't exactly pleasant. But the truth was that it was more than possible for the two of you to have child together. It had the potential to either be as noneventful as any pregnancy, with the cavate that the babe coming out looking slightly... dead wouldn't be a permanent state of being. Or it could be as risky as carrying a child could be, with pains and complications galore, even legitimate worries of internal bleeding from the wretched thing prematurely growing claws. Not to mention the occasional, intense blood lust that could occur, an experience that Astarion would prefer you didn't have to go to.

Looking into the reality of the choice didn't help as much as he had assumed it would. If anything it just made the whole situation more real. Even if he wasn't a vampiric spawn, childbirth was risky. Maybe not as risky for you considering how Astarion would move the heavens and hells to get you the best care possible, but still. The thought of you passing, leaving him alone with the child you wanted and would never see, would destroy him. Completely and utterly.

But then again... there was the magical alternative of everything working out just fine. The two of you were both beyond lucky in that regard, considering how you'd overcome mind flayer parasites and fought and won against a near god. It was more than possible that everything would be fine, that you would have a beautiful pregnancy that would end in an even more amazing child. Then two would become three, a family of his very own.

That... didn't sound too bad. Astarion was torn. On one hand, he was almost certain that he was willing to go through with it. Not just because he loved you and wanted you to be happy, though it was the main reason. But also because... he could be a part in making something good. A child that would never suffer the way he did, the way countless others had. One who would be loved, who would have the help they needed for their inevitable unholy hungers. Someone precious for the two of you to fret over, to adore and care for. He... wanted that. Or at least he would if you still did. Now if he could just figure out how to bring it up, maybe something could actually happen.

But luckily enough for him, you did the job for him. He had been pouring over another book dedicated to recording the births of Dhampirs in the area, only to be distracted by you loudly sighing behind him.

"What's wrong love?" Astarion asked, his eyes still scanning the page in front of him.

"Oh I don't know," You sighed, rounding the corner to sit on the edge of his desk, "I just can't help but wonder when you're going to explain why you've suddenly become obsessed with parenting books. And..."

You trailed off, ignoring his surprised expression to read the cover of what was in front of him, "'Vampiric and Mortal Love & The Spawn They Create'. It's not exactly your usual reading material."

Part of Astarion wanted to be surprised that you had already figured him out. He had at least been trying to hide things from you slightly, not that it mattered when you could read him like a book. And he supposed that blatantly reading things like this in front of you would eventually have an effect, even if he tried to obscure the titles.

But that didn't stop him from stuttering through a response, "Well-I, okay. I've just been thinking about options lately. Which you can't really do if you don't understand what they are. Hence the books."

You frowned at him, one leg crossed over the other, "Star, I already told you that you don't need to worry-"

"But I want to worry," Astarion interrupted, deciding that ripping the band-aid off would be the best course of action, "And if there is something I can be doing to make you happier than I should at least consider it."

"I'm not going to force you into this for that," You said softly, reaching out to twine his fingers against yours, "This isn't the kind of thing you do just for someone else."

Astarion was aware of that, there was an important truth to your words. But... "What if it wasn't just for you?"

You paused, your brow furrowed as you stared at him, "What do you mean?"

"I mean what if, and consider this purely hypothetical, what if I wanted one as well. What then?" It was as far from hypothetical as Astarion could get, but by the look on your face it didn't seemed like that needed to be clarified.

You swallowed, looking just shy of hopeful as you played with his hand, "I... well. I guess in that case we would have a lot to talk about."

That wasn't quite the answer he was looking for. He pressed on, "So if in theory, I did want one. Would... you still be interested in having one?"

With me?

He left that part unsaid as he waited for an answer, uncharacteristically nervous as you mulled it over. But you were smiling, bright and wide, giving his hand a little squeeze as you spoke, "I think that would be the only scenario where I would want it. If that's something you wanted."

"I think it is," Astarion answered honestly, done with being coy, "I don't know how, I... I'm not quite sure how I feel about you carrying something that could be dangerous. But... in general yes. I think I want this. I do want this. With you and only you. Whenever your ready."

The next part Astarion did see coming, his arms already open by the time you launched yourself at him. You straddled his lap, kissing every part of his face as you babbled, "We can wait! It doesn't need to be now but-I just-yes! Adoption, childbirth, I don't care. All I need is to have them with you. That's all I want."

"And that I can give," Astarion laughed, delighted at your reaction. He still had concerns, plenty of them in fact, but they were hard to consider when the woman he adored was so ecstatic.

He gripped your chin, chuckling at the whine you let out for him interrupting your onslaught of affection. You didn't have to wait long, not when he directed your mouth against his, kissing you deeply as a new wave of exciting, and slightly nauseating feelings worked through him.

He didn't know exactly what was going to happen in the future. He had no idea if he would be a good father, but he knew that he would try his damndest. He didn't know how the two of you would even procure a child, but he did no one thing.

With you by his side, it would work out. All of it, no matter how hard the road turned out to be. And that was all that mattered.

[dragongirlpoet]

The Sleeping Soldier

(Alucard inspired one shot — Alucard x reader)

❤️ Adrian reads you a love letter ❤️

Hello love,

In the decrepit chasm of despair, often I found myself wholly unable to see the light. Any prospect of joy — laughter, has evaded me. To the darkness I had pledged my soul subservient.

It had been days or months…perhaps a century? I’m not sure. Although you must pardon me, my…grief…has rendered my memory quite unreliable.

Yet somehow, somehow, amid my sombre solitude, you — a divine dream, as if descended from the heavens itself, showed up at my door. You had offered me daffodils when I was a lone willow in a wuthering storm. “I’ll tend to your dying garden. I’ll mend the castle. I’ll tame the anarchy in your heart”, you had uttered, words soft as a soothing kiss.

And it was in that promise that I alas, witnessed the brilliance of stars that hung in the beauty of night. Immortality is now an incandescent, glowing ray of hope — burning bridges of my past burdens that were tethered to me like a rope. You are the lifeblood of light to my destitute of doom.

You…have I said too much? You really must forgive my incessant rambling. I…it was a long time ago since I’d felt this happy. Just one more. I promise. You are the sun in which my world rotates — the very essence of light to my withered being. My beloved, I had not known true love till now. I love you.

#ilovehimsomuch

More Alucard stories -> Dark Signs

[thirstydemisexual]

Okk but hear me outtt

A fic where Tav/reader is a dhampir AND Cazador progenie. Like her mom was able to escape him somehow when she was pregnant but was always on the run. Then when Tav was an adult she got killed by Cazador and since then Tav has been on the run from him. Constantly changing appearance and name to evade him. And she trains and trains to be able to kill him. Then she decided to confront him and goes to Baldurs gate anddd she gets kidnapped by the mindflayers. Just her luck right?

She quickly figures out that Astarion is a vampire but decide to say nothing. He does not figure out that she is a dhampire that soon tho. Because he simply doesn't even know that a vampire is able to reproduce. And yeah she does share similarities with him but she does have a heartbeat and thus CANT BE A VAMPIRE.

Then he tries to bite her and she just goes 👀 well

So she gives him some blood to get him to energize and they go to hunt together.

And thennn later he tells her about Cazador and she just - freeze

Like? Hellooo he's a spawn of her fucking evil bio father. And she's so afraid to tell him like yeah he knows the gist of how she was born and what her "father" did to her mother but she didn't bother telling his name. And so one night she decides to tell him....

Should I write this?

[bumpen-underbeds]

I've been thinking about Vampires and Dhampires lately, namely in theory could you make them squirt?

Like vampire ladies, as full blooded vamps probably not or like only once every month or so, cause they don't drink water in a traditional sense and so it would probably only be around when they have fed that they could make such a big mess in bed but Dhampir ladies!

They still retain a partial human status as a mixed breed, so Dhampir pussy could squirt!

Laying in bed with your precious partner laying against their chest leaving kisses across their plush cleavage as you work them open on your fingers, humming as you tug their bra off and latch onto a nipple as more and more wet sounds fill the air.

Feeling how their thighs squeeze and try to stop your hands movements as you slip a second finger inside, gently coaxing them into a panting mess, smiling up at them as you pull away from their chest and reach for a toy or vibrating wand. Looking so content as they arch and shake, your fingers curling and pressing against just the right spot as you press the toy to their clit, circling and pressing in time with how they buck their hips.

Cooing at them and telling them how pretty they look as their eyes scrunch up, kissing them and letting them bite at your lips to draw a few small beads of blood as they whimper and shake their way through your attention. Pulling back to watch as their eyes flutter and their body goes taught, hips jolting as a wet heat spreads across your hand and drips down your wrist.

[johnwickb1tsch]

I absolutely adore Girl Next Door and keep returning to it...and looking at your collection of bots, I wonder if you have ever considered creating a damphir Wick bot? It's not a request, just a question,no pressure.

💌

Ahhhh thank you so much!! What a fun idea! So...I feel like I'm really bad at making bots because I add too much detail 😅 but I tried... If you have any requests for a different scenario let me know. Thank you Nonnie, I hope you enjoy!❤️

Dhampir John Wick - janitor.ai

John Wick saves you from a vampire in a club. He thinks you're his reincarnated wife, Yelena...

[azulazenin]

On your knees

Kinktober 2024 | Deepthroating

Pairing: Adrian Tepes/Alucard x Original Character (Mihaela Karnstein)

Summary: Newly engaged Adrian and Mihaela trying new things in bed.

Warnings: Blowjob, cum eating, face fucking. Minors DNI !

A/N: This is an extra for my story The Blackest Day and its sequel Swan Song. Be mindful that in this particular universe, Alucard was born in 1451 and not 1456 like the show, and Mihaela was born in 1453. However, they are both dhampirs and they develop faster, by the time this excerpt happens they are physically, emotionally and mentally adults.

1463

“Are you sure about it?” Adrian asked tenderly as he looked down at her. “You don’t have to do it just to please me...”

“I want to.” Mihaela was already on the floor, knelt in front of him on a pillow, her inexperienced yet firm hands undoing the ribbon of his sleeping pants. “I like doing things for you.”

He swallowed dry, feeling his face going warm and red. Ever since they slept together for the first time, only a week ago, they’ve been trying new things in bed, exploring each other’s bodies and the nuances of their desires. Mihaela was an anxious lover, so eager to try to give him everything that, sometimes, she ended up covered in bruises and aching spots on her body. The marks never make it to the morning, her dhampir blood granting her fast recovery to almost anything, but Adrian, always sweet and caring, was still afraid of hurting her.

“You must guide me, though. I’ve never tried this before.” The way she looked up at him, eyes burning with lust and anticipation had his cock throbbing in his pants.

Adrian nodded, watching her pull down his only piece of clothe and release his growing erection. Mihaela gasped, she had seen him naked and ready for her at least half dozen times now, but she never had his dick this close to her face, much less about to enter her mouth.

So she started with the things she already knew how to do. Spitting on her hand, she wrapped it around his member, slowly going up and down his length, feeling it pulse in her palm, bringing her other hand to hold the head and run her thumb over the glans.

“Is it good?”

“Y-Yes...” He gasped, fingers sinking into the mattress.

Mihaela smirked, continuing to work her hands on him until he was fully erect. Once he was finally ready, she leaned closer to his member and stuck her tongue out. She started out with shy, contained cat licks, feeling the salty taste of precum for the first time, finding it more appealing than she thought she would.

Above her, Adrian whimpers, fighting an inner battle not to grab her by her hair and push his cock inside her mouth at once, constantly reminding himself that he shouldn’t rush things and ruin her first experience giving him head. His dear love wasn’t doing it just for him after all, he could tell how much it was turning her on given the way she was pressing her legs together.

“Promise me you’ll tell me if I do it wrong.” She plead in half excitement, half wariness,

“I promise. But worry not, honey, just do what feels natural to you.”

Assured by his sweet words, Mihaela opened her mouth and wrapped her lips around the head of his cock. She slightly stuck her tongue out again, trying to coordinate the sucking with circling movements.

“Watch y-your... teeth!” He warned between moans, reminding her that she had fangs as sharp as his.

Mihaela managed a half nod, retracting her lips over her teeth in order not to hurt him as she lowered her head down to his shaft. A drop of saliva ran down her chin as she took more of him in her mouth, her eyes tearing up a little, but the sensation was not unpleasant at all, the throbbing of his dick on her tongue, brushing against her cheek walls caused her to grow wet, it would have damped her undies had she been wearing any.

“Fuck!” Adrian cursed, his tip was so close to hitting her throat that he struggled to speak. “Keep going, love, you’re doing so well...”

His praise made her clench around nothing, and she lowered her head more and more until she took all of his member, choking when it reached her throat. Adrian was quite big when he was hard, it had her doubting if she’d be able to take him in her virgin cunt the first time they had sex, but he fucked her so good she barely felt the pain of her broken maidenhead. She could only hope it would be the case again.

Mihaela held back the reflex of letting go of him to catch her breath, holding onto his knees to keep control of her actions, but Adrian gently pushed her off of him the moment he noticed her struggle.

“Are you alright, my love?”

Mihaela gasped, catching her breath. “Yes, I’m fine… I just need to learn how to breathe with my mouth stuffed.”

He couldn’t say if she meant to sound so obscene, but he groaned in pleasure, not resisting the urge to grasp at her hair when she wrapped her lips around his cock again. He didn’t try to move her head at the pace he desired, he merely held the big brown curls he was so in love with as he watched her getting the hang of it, as she slowly sucked and licked all over his member, taking him deeper in her throat each time.

Her name escaped his lips like a prayer, the vision beneath him could make him come at the spot. Her chin was wet with saliva and precum, her nipples stiff and peeking through the thin fabric of her chemise, her digits pressing on his thighs and her toes curling in need.

“Darling...” Adrian moaned, struggling to keep his hips still instead of moving it against her mouth. “I… I need...”

She let go of his cock with an indecent pop noise. “Do it.” She begged, guessing what he wanted. “I can take it, I promise.”

He threw his last bit of control through the window and used his hold on her hair to push her face against his dick, moving his hips against her mouth once she had him back inside.

Mihaela clawed at Adrian’s thighs, both for balance and trying to endure the initial discomfort of being face fucked. Warm tears ran down her cheek as his tip hitted the back of her throat over and over again, but the look on her hazel eyes as she choked on him made it clear how much she was enjoying it. She loved when he lost control, when his mind was so clouded by pleasure and his only coherent thought was to rail her.

Adrian got up and tilted her head in a better angle for him to use her mouth, one of his hands moving to wrap around her neck, to feel how deep she was taking him, all the while he moaned and said he was sorry for being so harsh, but since she gave no indication that she wanted him to stop, he didn’t. He pushed his dick in and out until his legs were shaking and his seed spilling on her tongue.

He tried to pull out and jerk himself into oblivion, not wanting to make her swallow cum in her first time sucking him, but Adrian failed miserably at the task, he only managed to withdraw after the last drop came out.

Mihaela coughed and gasped for air, swallowing everything he gave her, breathing heavily as Adrian watched her with both worry and satisfaction. He sat back on the bed and took her face in his hands, gently running his thumb over her lips.

“You’re alright?”

“… yes.” She answered, her breath slowly going back to normal. “Was I good?”

Adrian chuckled. “Do you really need to ask, my love?”

She laughed with him, placing a kiss on his thumb and resting her head on his lap, and his hands immediately found their way to caress her scalp.

“But we’re not done yet.”

She arched her brow, wasn’t he satisfied yet? “No?”

“No.” He smirked, his mind bubbling with unholy thoughts. Adrian pulled her up to her feet only to push on the bed right after. Mihaela bit on her lip with anticipation as she watched him grab her knees to spread her legs open, exposing her already soaked warmth. “Now it’s your turn.”

And the night was only getting started.

[taki-yaki]

Prompt: Astarion x Tav where Tav is a dhampir

A Dhampir and a Vampire spawn would be an interesting dynamic, especially considering that in most cases they become trained vampire killers/hunters.

Dhampir Tav Headcanons

Your Dhampir lineage was a result of your birth mother being bitten by a vampire before you were even born.

Setting your fate to be a dhampir before you were even born, as a result, You were never able to find a home throughout your life, any kind of vampires would shun you as a dreaded daywalker, whilst any mortals would call you a dreaded bloodsucker. 

In retaliation against the ones who cursed you to this fate, you dedicate your life to hunting the undead creatures in an act of vengeance. 

When you first meet Astarion, you both nearly devolve into a knife fight on the floor, before the tadpole stops you from continuing any further.

During your first night together in camp, the two of you are tense after your first meeting. He attempts to shake the feeling off by hand waving due to the tadpoles. 

But to you, it feels strange, most of the vampire spawn you’ve met were mainly hostile, hissing, claws ready to tear your throat out, but Astarion seemed to be different from the others, more humane in an unusual way. 

This doesn’t deter you from keeping your guard down, after all in your experience, vampire spawn are always one thirsty night away from betraying everyone.

The very next night, you feel the hunger pains within you, to feast upon blood, despite your distaste for blood, you occasionally need to consume it, or else it will weaken your body and state of mind, but never kill you.

After a quick sneak into the nearby forest, you return victorious with rabbit’s blood to feast upon, to keep you sain for the next few weeks, however, your victory is short-lived as Astarion spots you caught quite literary red-handed with the rabbit still in your hands.

He immediately suspects you of being one of his old masters' spawn lackeys sent to take him back to his tormentor, “Your pale skin, the urge to drink blood, I knew you were one of his pests, well I’m not going back”. 

You quickly try to rebuttal in defence that you’re nothing of the sort, and you’ve never heard of this master before, he saw you eat Gale’s cooking the other night, vampire spawn can’t eat normal food. He backs off from you a little after that remark, before speaking yet again “So what are you exactly?”. 

That’s never been the easiest question for you to answer, but you attempt to explain to him how you’re a Dhampir a half-human vampire, a monster to everyone you seemly meet. 

He looks at you as if you have grown three heads, it soon transpires that he’s never heard of your kind before, seemly interested in what a half-breed like you would have to offer against the local vampire lord population.

The two of you soon create a strange bond, that which is built upon your shared hatred towards the very beings who cursed you. You teach him some of your expert undead killing ways upon hearing the torment Cazador put him through, in return you tell him tales of the lesser vampire lords you’ve slain by your hands, giving him the safety of having you by his side.

In return he starts to see you as less of a monster, instead seeing you as just you. Complimenting on the combination of your colourful hair in contrast to your pale skin, to the smaller set of fangs that you have.

When it comes to blood, he never feasts upon your own, saying how it smells weird as if it has a strange underlying danger to it so he’s better off not taking the chance.

Upon your arrival at Baldur’s Gate, the two of you decide to stride straight towards the Szarr palace to kill the vampire lord once and for all, but you warn Astarion that if he ever ascends, you will have to kill him, as he’ll be no better than the dozen other vampire lords you’ve told countless tale about.

Once his Cazador was finally slain, the fate of the spawn was left in the hands of you both, your past self would have decided to kill them, stating that they are no better than the ones who made them, but upon seeing them in the cells, they remind you of when you met Astarion, an undead who still seemly had a soul to call his own, a radiant hope for those cursed to walk in the shadows.

With a deep breath, you tell him to set them free, as they are only victims like him, and curiously they feel like a dark blood kin to you. The spawn are grateful for your generosity, especially knowing that most of you kind would kill without a second thought, whoever you do warn them that if they ever lose control, you will not hesitate to kill them.

After the defeat of the nether brain, the two of you decide to do what you do best, acting as a deadly pair of night-stalker vampire hunters vowing to save those who have fallen into the hands of tyrannical vampire masters. Travelling across faerun to see what the world has to offer both of you.

[ananiel]

For the person that inspired me with this idea, i agree, an angelico Fra with a dhampir reader is a delicious idea

TW yandere themes : bit of Hurt, gore, yandere themes, facial things, hate on others, angelico Being a Red flag, read at Your own risk

Yandere angelico Fra x reader

--------------------------------------------------------------

The first time Angelico Fra laid eyes on you, it was supposed to mean nothing. A dhampir. A half-breed. An impurity sullying the noble world he belonged to. He should have dismissed you, ignored your existence like dust beneath his feet. And yet, he found himself watching.

It started with simple observation—scrutiny. He told himself he was ensuring that you knew your place. That was why he took note of the way your hair fell over your shoulder, the way your lips curled slightly when you spoke, the way your breath hitched when someone looked at you too closely. He told himself that was why he ordered others to put you in your place. Not because he wanted to see you break, but because he needed to remind himself you were beneath him. And still, his fingers twitched when you winced, his breath stilled when your eyes locked onto his, unwavering and defiant.

It infuriated him.

His obsession deepened without his permission. He caught himself lingering near the places you frequented, listening in on your conversations, hating the warmth in your voice when you spoke to others. The worst part was that he wasn’t just watching. He was craving.

You were a disease, an infection in his mind, and he was sick beyond saving.

The first time he hallucinated about you, he nearly clawed his own skin off in disgust. The cocoon period was making him weak, pathetic. He saw you in his mind—standing too close, whispering his name with reverence instead of defiance. His own imagination betrayed him, painting images of your lips parting just for him, of your body caged beneath his own. The illusion of your touch sent a violent shudder down his spine, his body betraying him in ways he refused to acknowledge.

“No,” he growled to himself, his nails digging into his palm. “Not her. Not a dhampir.”

He tried to resist. He sent men to beat you again, and when you stood back up, bloodied but unbroken, something inside him twisted. He wanted to be the one to break you. No one else. They were unworthy of touching you. Hurting you. Making you tremble. That right belonged to him alone.

His obsession turned violent in a way he could no longer control. He found himself pulling you into corners, his hand gripping your wrist just tight enough to leave a mark. His voice would drop into a low hiss, full of venom meant for himself as much as for you.

“Why do you haunt me?” he spat, his green eyes burning into yours. “Why does your scent linger in my mind? You’re filth. A pest. You shouldn’t be worth a second glance, and yet—” His voice cracked slightly, fury battling against something far darker. “And yet, I dream of you.”

You should have been afraid. Anyone else would be. But instead, you smiled—soft, amused.

“Then stop fighting it, Angelico.”

His grip tightened. His breath hitched. His control cracked.

He kissed you. Or perhaps it was closer to a battle than a kiss, his lips devouring yours in a desperate attempt to prove something—to himself, to you, to the world that had bound him with rules he no longer wished to follow. His fingers curled against your waist, his body trembling as if he were the one being consumed.

You had ruined him.

He pulled back, panting, eyes wide with something close to horror. His hands trembled, hovering near your skin as though unsure whether to pull you closer or shove you away. His pride screamed at him to regain control, to punish you for bringing him to this state. But his heart—his wretched, traitorous heart—whispered something else.

Mine.

He swallowed hard. “This…this means nothing.”

You tilted your head, unbothered. “Does it?”

He hated you. He hated himself more. But no matter how deeply that hatred burned, it could never overshadow the hunger that now consumed him whole.

You were his curse, his torment. And he would never let you go.

[meowsgirldrawing]

AUNTIE LAE'ZEL IDEA I CAN'T GET OUT OF MY HEAD-

For sure I'm going to write this when I can but I need to say it before I loose my mind! GODS-

SO this is mainly pertaining to Astarion romance, mainly cause he's the only one I'm familiar with personality wise so far. And he's the only one who's kids I've made.

But imagine Auntie Laze'zel-

Post! Game, Tav and Astarion have two little dhampires.

While everyone else was welcoming to the little bat-pups in their own ways, Lae'zel was..standoff-ish at first.

Don't get her wrong, she's happy for her friends comrades, she's just unsure how to proceed with these little blood suckers.

If her relationship with both Tav and Astarion are in the high, she's seemingly more nervous than unwelcoming. Confused possibly.

She knows how to treat children, somewhat, but babies??

Little toddlers that can't do anything for themselves?

Yeah, no, she's going to wait until they can at least understand the difference between a cat and a dog- And Tav why are you pushing the non-hatchling into her arms??

She's frozen as she holds their daughter. Her white curls, the only thing she shares with her twin brother, soft and tangled in her hand that supports the head. Tav helps her adjust as Astarion chuckles teases on the side. She'd snap at him another time, she's too busy staring at the defenseless, weak creature in her arms.

Eyes blink open, tiny nose unlike hers scrunches and she's staring into wide, red eyes tinged with orange.

She braces, having seen enough of other's childen waking up and immediately screaming their dislike of whatever they see. Not that she values a child's opinion of her looks. She'd could care less, but her ears care alot.

It doesn't happen. Happy and curious cooes start, eyes crickling as the girl reaches up. Grasping at her braids. Gently tugging and feeling the warriors hair.

"She's your unfortunate copy, Tav." Theres weight on her arm and a tight hold accompanying it. Her tail. Just like how Tav always wraps their's around Astarion or people she's closest too, the baby wraps as much as her tiny tail will allow around....

No, she is not turning soft, hush your ridiculous lies, Astarion!

She continues with that sentence for years, even when found playing 'teecups and crowns' with Amarylis and watching over Axel's non-serious training. Who she even gets pulled into playing with the dog with or finding weird stones along the stream, nothing but trying to find gold that could only be burried in the earth. But she doesn't say a word to the young halfing about that, just grabs the collar of his shirt if he wanders too far off, a soft hissable warning falling from her lips.

She's not used to kids, it's clear to the parents. But she tries, because they show a side she's not used to. They won't have to fight for their freedom, or lives or anything of that sort. They'll be able to choose to fight. And if having a toy crown on her head that has the girl with an affectionate tail giggling and finally finding a stone that has the boy, his outrageous curls doxed in his first half shave, grinning and spouting praises you'd only hear from young ones, is the biggest proof of that, she's alright with it...mostly.

And if you think the protection stops there...HAHAHAHA- No.

One time Lae'zel was in charge of the kids who wanted to go to a nearby carnival. Astarion and Tav allowed it, seeing it as a nice opportunity for some alone time and bonding time for Lae'zel and her little warriors in tow.

And if you call Lae'zel nearly breaking a man's arm off as bonding time...sure.

An older man, possibly a hunter by the looks of how his eyes shifted and how he posed in his following of the three, dared reach for Axel who was too busy staring wide eyed at the golden clocks on one stand to notice his creeping.

Lucky for him, Auntie Lae'zel came in, hissing and glaring, hand on the always sharp dagger she has at her hip.

To others and the guards, it looked like an attempted kidnapping so the man was taken away as soon as Lae'zel got a few good hits in, possibly a few cuts.

'Great.' She grumbled in her mind as she watch the man be dragged off, spouts of vampire children going unheard by the guards who merely rolled their eyes and gritted out words of justice.

She turns, half expecting to see eyes wide in fear at her, only to find a small body slamming into her front. Axel, at the age of 9, goes sniffling into her tunic, clutching at her back with tight fists.

"Auntie Lae!" His sister's teary eyes meet her unsure ones, "Are you okay??" She frets, coming in close aswell.

She ignores the murmurs, the looks as the crowd around them disperses. Her thoughts still trying to come together.

She tsks, patting the girls head instead of answering and pulls Axel away form her, only to kneel infront of him. "Next time, watch your surroundings. Understand, pup?" A common nickname from her companions. It calms the boy down, his red eyes getting wiped as he nods and sniffs, "Y-Yes, ma'am..."

After wiping his face and giving him a somewhat awkward hug, one that has Ama giggling and Axel blinking, they continue on, enjoying the carnival to the best of their ability.

And it seems to work out well. As soon as Astarion and Tav arrive home, the twins running up to their open armed father as Tav approches a tired Lae'zel. They chuckle and -

"What?!" Astarion bawks.

They look over, seeing the twins glance at each other then back at Astarion.

"Can you teach us how to fight like Auntie Lae'zel?" Ama smiles like she's asking for a delicate flower, while Axel gives a wicked grin in comparison. "YEAH! She beat up a bad man at the carnival today!" He giggles, "I think his arm broke cause I heard a loud crack!"

Tav blinks. Lae'zel stares. Then smirks, "I take back my first statement, they are like him."

[pacentia]

ok but imagine being pregnant with Astarion's baby and he can smell it on you. You decide to ask Gale to verify with some sort of spell and the guy proceeds to give a long ass college lecture about dhampirs

[vampires-and-dhampirs]

Vampire Hunter D Holiday Week

Day one - Decorating

Tags: SFW, family friendly, wholesome family stuff, fluff

The end of the year had come, meaning it was time to decorate for the holiday season. D hadn’t participated in the holidays since he was a child when his mother was alive, and he was grateful to be doing this year with your family. You both had been together for some time but he typically wasn't around for the holidays to enjoy it with you. You wanted him to be a part of your family, however that best looked for you, but he had a job to do which kept him away for large amounts of time. He did his best to be with you as much as possible but this year he wanted to make sure he spent the holiday with you all. You’ve spoken with him before that you wanted to spend the whole month together because the holiday wasn't just about one day. Getting together with everyone from your extended family to see each other and catch up was the highlight every year. The family would trickle in over the course of a few weeks and stay over until the 1st day of the new year. Anyone who showed up the first week, had to help make the house look presentable. 

 You managed to get your broody love to help with so much around the house. This man was outside by putting up lights, helping make wreaths, and had chopped down a huge tree for the family. Making the entry way look welcoming was his favorite though. He didn't have to say it but you could see the effort he was putting in to make it look eye-catching. He wondered, "Why do you all celebrate like this?"

"It's just a tradition we've been doing for generations. To be perfectly honest I don't know the details of why. I just like being around my family."  When he’s finished, you take his hand and lead him to the living room where your parents are. They have arts and crafts set up to make little ornaments for the tree. Every year, you all would make a new ornament to add to the collection. Once they were done you would write your name on it, and how old you were. You hand him a plain ornament to doodle on. For a little while he didn't do anything because he had no clue what he wanted this little thing to look like. He eventually painted the base the color of your eyes with a bunch of little hearts and stars. Even though you thought it was the sweetest thing, you had to restrain yourself from teasing him a little bit. You didn't want to make him feel self conscious about it by accident. Then your parents made it awkward as hell by mushing over how sweet it was. "You know, you guys can just not talk sometimes." He remarked in a somber tone, "You don't like it?" In a panic, you complimented his ornament profusely.  You then realized he was just pulling your leg. When everyone finished their ornament, they went onto the tree as always and of course D’s went next to yours.