#Dhampir reader

[parvulous-writings]

can i request karlach, jaheira and shadowheart x dhampir bard gn reader headcanons? maybe also platonic headcanons for astarion.

Warnings: Mentions of blood/gore/flesh, descriptions of eating blood/gore/flesh

Notes:  So I didn't want to go entirely with like, typical dhampir straight off the bat, so I rolled a d8 to see what reader would hunger for! The reader thirsts more for flesh/raw meat than blood, but can be sated with either! I was SO stoked to write this! Sorry if I focus more on the Dhampir side of things, I just... LOVE the idea <3 They might be a bit uneven! My requests are currently open! My pinned post (found here) contains both a list of characters I write for, and a masterlist!  Original character list - please request for these too!

Karlach

Initially, Karlach didn't really notice anything out of the ordinary with you. Sure, you had a... slightly offputting aura to you, but who in your little rag-tag team didn't? You seemed so funny to Karlach - your dark humour complimented her own very well, and she loved that about you. The fact that you were a bard made it all the better; when you weren't regaling the group with various tales, Karlach was making suggestions for insults you could use against opponents. You also taught her an insult or two, mostly because her delivery is always amusing to you.

She knew that you had a few... better than average abilities, but you often dismissed them if anyone tried to bring them up; your speed, your strength - and especially your rather uncanny ability to charm almost anyone to your cause. It's a very helpful skill for you to have, and since you don't want to talk about it, Karlach leaves the topic be.

As you spent more time on the road together, and grew closer, Karlach began to notice a few things about you. Your songs would often dwell on the gore of a tale, and even add it in - like it was something that you couldn't take your mind off of. She brushed it off though - bards always seemed to have something that they would focus on in their songs, perhaps the violence was just your thing, rather than the victory or the romance that other bards tried to emphasise. Even if you weren't the typical lovey-dovey bard that she was used to, she was definitely not complaining when you serenaded her in the evening.

That was her perfect evening - quality time with her lover, snuggled together in her tent, with you quietly playing and singing to her. Even if your songs can be a bit morbid, she loves hearing the sound of your voice.

She also noticed that you didn't often eat with her and the rest of the group - in fact, it was more like you never did. She didn't understand why, though - you always seemed so eager to eat. It was like your appetite was never really satisfied. It took her having to stalk you out into the woods one evening to discover your rather... Unsavoury appetite. The shock she felt at first made her freeze; how would someone rationally react to the sight of someone they loved eating flesh? How would someone react at all, let alone rationally?

Karlach ended up just standing there, unable to take her eyes off of you as your teeth tore into the meat in your hands. Things were starting to make sense to her - your songs focusing on gore was like the mind of a hungry person focusing on food. You were halfway through your meal when you saw the barbarian standing there, and you couldn't help but freeze too - your hunger, or rather the sating of it, was one of the only things that you had actively tried to hide.

"You'd seen us with Astarion - why didn't you tell us? Why didn't you tell me?" You thought Astarion's affliction was... Rather simple, in comparison to your own. A vampire, people knew about - a mortal, turned undead by another vampire, fed by blood. When you thought about that, you felt... Worse - your hunger couldn't be sated by blood alone. You had to have flesh as well, you craved it.

And, furthermore, your origins weren't exactly conventional; perhaps for Dhampirs, yes, but in general, not really. Having one vampire parent wasn't brilliant when talking to, well, anyone.

Thankfully, Karlach just about takes it in stride - though she doesn't appreciate secrecy between the two of you, she can kind of understand why you'd wanted to keep it that was for a while; no more secrets though. Lovers don't keep secrets, in her book.

Jaheira

Jaheira's wisdom had immediately set off quiet alarms about you after knowing you for a little while; seeing how you act around people, your constant noticeable hunger, the lot. She never brought it up, however. When your back is against the wall, you need as many allies as you can get, and you were certainly a favourable one, despite your oddities.

She had further inklings when you decided to entertain those taking shelter at Last Light. Your playing was divine - but that wasn't what irked her. What is was, was the more prominent canines that she could quite clearly see when you sang. She tried to blame it on the wine, but deep down she knew it wasn't so. She just didn't want to think that one of her currently most trusted allies was undead. Another reason she pushed it aside for the time being was because she knew it would be foolish to push away what seemed to be her best hope of getting out of the Shadow Curse alive. It was more than foolish, it was downright stupid - in times such as this, you must take every little blessing that you can.

It was during the battle at Moonrise that her suspicions started to be proven correctly. Your speed was unmatched by all but your pale elf companion, your blows hit just as hard as your barbarian friend. Not just that, but she had seen you bite one of your foes whilst in a frenzy of hits.

During the night-long celebration that followed the battle and all it entailed, Jaheira decided to confront you. You had stalked off to some mildly secluded area, just out of sight of the campfire, and Jaheira pursued. There she found a sight, that despite her suspicions, she had not expected. What she had expected was the amount of blood that had managed to smear itself round your face; what hadn't crossed her mind was the sheer amount of flesh that accompanied it. The way you tore into it, fangs first, was near feral - it was certainly a gruesome sight, and the druid was at least glad it was her who had found you, and not anyone else.

"I understand the necessity to hide such a secret from the masses, however, you're not exactly subtle with, well, any of it." Her words were not meant to chastise, but more to guide - she actually wanted to help you a little bit. You were valuable to her - both as an ally and a companion, and she would do near anything to help you. The world was unkind to many beings, dhampirs of course being one of them. She knew she couldn't shield you from all of the adversity you may face, but she could try and help you.

And so she does - or she tries her best, as you all head to Baldur's Gate. She doesn't exactly approve of your tastes now that you've entered the city, but understands that sometimes, needs must. She encourages you to resist if you can, and only take those who truly deserve death if you need to feed.

Shadowheart

Shadowheart didn't think there was too much out of the ordinary with you at first. To her, you were... Just a bard. A bard who mainly sang about violence, battles, and gore. Though, every bard has their gimmick, so she didn't think much more about it. She supposed it was a nice break from the norm of love and ancient legends.

Despite being fairly learned in things that lurk in the night, it took Shadowheart a while to figure out that you were a dhampir - though, she blamed part of that on her memory suppression. But, when she did finally figure it out, she wasn't entirely surprised. The fact that there was also a Vampire and a Warlock in the party... There was little left that would surprise the Sharran.

"I suppose I should have seen it coming... Your ballads about the innards of your foes, your sneaking off during supper... Not to mention your preternatural speed and strength, and those sharp canines of yours... All the signs were there, even if somewhat contradicted by the fact that you're alive. A pity I couldn't see it sooner. Then again... I suppose having two supernatural allies is better than having one, hm? That being said... No more secrets. I can't trust you if you hide things from me."

Despite your... Condition, she's actually very comfortable around you. She was quite perturbed when she caught you mid-feed- "I thought Dhampirs only fed on blood?!" You had to try and explain that in fact, there were many kinds of dhampirs - some had sanguine hunger, similar to their undead counterparts, others like yourself fed on the flesh of a victim, but there were even those who fed on more abstract energy, such as dreams. It was quite a shock to Shadowheart, but she kept her questions to a minimum.

As your journey continues, she asks you to sing to her more and more - often requesting to hear about your favourite things; your home, where your favourite haunt was before the mindflayers, but often, she likes to hear of your finest kills, and the feast that ensues after. She'll often jokingly muse, "Do you ever wonder what my flesh would taste like?" "Sometimes... Though I try not to dwell on the thought for too long... I think you'd taste sweet - aromatic, even... A true, refined delicacy."

She'd laugh quietly, and then ask you to sing to her again as she leans against you. The longer you spend journeying together, the more she comes to trust you. She finds it easier and easier to open up to you, knowing that despite your neverending hunger, you would never turn your fangs towards her... Unless she asked, of course. She likens your struggle to resist to her struggle with her faith to Shar; it's a long, inner struggle that often, you cannot speak to anyone about.

When you get to the city, she does make jokes akin to "I'm sure no one would miss him... Do you think he'd taste good enough?" And wouldn't say no to the idea of you potentially eating members of her cloister, now that they are somewhat after her.

Astarion (platonic)

This man nearly outs you on more than one occasion. He says each time that is it "Merely an accident, a slip of the tongue, if you will... It won't happen again..." But, I can guarantee, it will. It's a near daily occurrence.

This is because that, being a vampire himself, Astarion knows what to look for, when it comes to being around someone like himself. Sure, you don't have the trademark paleness that a vampire often possesses, but you have nearly every other feature. After one full day of travelling with you, observing your behavior, seeing your prowess in battle, and hearing your ballads of blood, guts and gore... He knows. He saunters right up to you, and says it nearly loud enough for the whole camp to hear. You clasp your hand over his mouth, begging him to stay quiet. The last thing you need is to be ousted to your party, when you have no idea how to react.

To begin, Astarion tries to give you tips on how to hide your true nature. After a while of staring at your frankly disinterested face, he realises that there's no point. So, instead you start to discuss the... Finer points of your diets - what tastes good, what doesn't; it's a brilliant bonding point for the pair of you. It's what a lot of your friendship is built upon, and you can't complain about it - it's nice to finally have someone who can understand the insatiable hunger, the need to hide, all of it... Even if he does constantly criticise your ballads for being "inaccurate" when it comes to the descriptions of the blood and the gore. He truly can be a stickler for being right, sometimes. You eventually learn to ignore him, though.

[a-supernatural-writer]

Dating a Dhampir Pt.1

Word Count: 992

Notes: It’s been a minute… life is crazy, I’m a double major senior in college and I’m losing my mind but in a good way. Had a little bit of free time to write the first part of these headcanons. Part 2 hopefully by the end of this week. I’m also going through all my requests (which I’m just leaving them open at this point cause why the hell not). But yeah, don’t know when I’ll be fully back into continuing series, kind of when I get to it it’ll happen. But I hope this holds you over until things come out.

I’m sort of gonna make these headcanons connected to my Blood Oranges series, cause the reader is a dhampir so if anything this will also give hints at lore or events that will come up within the story.

So, my headcanon of dhampirs is that they pass off way better as humans but their bloodlust is even more powerful than normal vampires. As a dhampir, born half human - half vampire, you were able to have a somewhat normal life growing up. You were able to go to school normally, the sun never hurt you nor did it ever make you tired, you had normal friends and no one thought there was anything weird.

Holy water stung and yes, it could still hurt you, burning your skin, but your healing abilities worked much faster than a normal vampire, healing within a few minutes. Even though holy water stung, you were still able to walk into churches without bursting into flames.

One would think that you wouldn’t be able to see your reflection, but nope, you could see yourself, crystal clear and you didn’t need to be invited into someone’s house for it to work. Though if you were invited into a home, holy water wouldn’t work just like other vampires.

The biggest downside is the bloodlust. Thirst clawing at your throat every day. Dhampirs officially stop aging when they feed from their first kill, so while growing up, your parents got you blood bags from certain connections for you to drink from. Other ways were certain types of food. Having raw steak satiated your appetite, blood oranges did the trick as well. Hell, you even found out that pomegranates and peaches help as well.

You choose to have the meat and fruits more often than the blood bags since they were harder to get. Plus, you wanted to wait until you were ready to make your first kill. You didn’t even know if you were ever gonna be ready for that step. But that changed one fateful night.

You knew mates were a thing. Your parents were mates, now both fully fledged vampires, and they always talked about how wonderful it was. It always made you hopeful that maybe one day you would find yours… to your surprise you had four of them.

The moment you stepped foot on the Boardwalk, they smelt you, and you smelt them. Weirdly enough, in the beginning, you were the most possessive one. You didn’t like anyone that wasn’t you or someone you knew going near your boys. Threatening growls and hissing at strangers who got too close for comfort.

When you started getting closer to them, and a relationship started forming, you would randomly bite them. Kind of like claiming what was yours. There are multiple ways to fully mark or claim a mate. It could be done through scent marking; sharing clothing or even nuzzling yours or their faces into each other’s necks.

Then there was actually the act of biting one another which was the most intimate and permanent form of claiming. (The possessive part of being a dhampir prefers biting more than anything.)

Being a dhampir also gave you a leg up on the hierarchy of your little group. Yes, David was the set leader, but by the end of the day, guess what, one bite from you and he was putty in your hands.

Overall, your group relationship is pretty balanced, everyone has their own little place and it works out beautifully. Yes, even though you are a tiny bit stronger than the average vampire, the boys respect your abilities but it doesn’t stop them from being over protective.

Even when you start feeding, taking that huge leap, it is a little messier than normal. The boys think they’re messy? Oh boy, you are worse. Blood covering you from head to toe, fangs out and majority of the time you are just ripping into the humans like a bloodthirsty animal.

Say if one day, the weather was terrible and there wouldn’t be a soul on the Boardwalk, feeding would have to come from each other. Just a tiny bit of each other's blood and you would all be okay. Even having blood oranges were able to satiate their thirst and even you after you made your first kill.

Though when the boys drink from you it’s a different story. Your blood to them tastes warm and sends tingles throughout their entire body. To them, it felt like the sun was kissing their skin in the softest way imaginable, and they haven’t felt the sun in years.

Surprisingly, drinking your blood has a few side effects that were unknown even to you until faither night… or rather morning.

Let’s just say after spending the night with Paul for your one on one date, drinking your blood in the middle of all the fun, the two of you accidentally fell asleep in the main cave area where sunlight naturally poured into. You were fine, certainly, but not Paul.

To everyone’s surprise, Paul wasn’t burning to a crisp in the sunlight, feeling the sun touch his skin for the first time in decades. It was then you and the entire group found out that drinking dhampir blood gives a vampire the ability to be immune to the sun for a whole 24 hours.

Wanting the boys to experience the day life, you did this a good portion of the month, giving your blood to them not only for pleasure but for the ability to live somewhat normal again. The inhabitants of Santa Carla were shocked to see the gang walk amongst them during the day and no longer roaming the night.

No longer did you have to do errands during the day on your own. You had your four mates with you and they enjoyed every second of it. They thought you were gorgeous at night, but my goodness, you were radiant underneath the sun.

[meowsgirldrawing]

Tavstarion Family naptime~

Bonus- Bat Family

(He heard something)

He protec and attak

[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."

[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.

[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.

[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?

[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

[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.

[kisses-for-you]

Wounded - Alucard

Alucard X GN!Reader

Summary: You get injured and Alucard takes care of you.

Word Count: 998

As the moon casts an eerie glow over the forest, the night creatures slowly start to close in. You, Trevor, Alucard and Sypha fight valiantly. That is until one of the creatures swipes at you with it's dirty, elongated claws. It makes contact with your side and blood almost immediately starts oozing out the wound but you don't realise thanks to the adrenaline you're feeling. With one swift swipe of your sword, the creature tumbles to the ground, any life leaving its body.

As soon as you're certain that the creature is dead, you look down and notice how much blood you're actually losing. The adrenaline slowly wears off and you feel an intense pain spreading through your body. Your hand grips your side and when you look at your hand, a thick, red liquid covers it. You're used to seeing blood but this time something feels different and suddenly, your legs give out beneath you, your body falling to the ground.

Alucard turns to you, hearing the impact of your body hitting the ground. When he notices you on the ground, he immediately dashes towards you, concern etched on his face. He kneels by your side, his worry palpable in his piercing gaze. Alucard's gentle voice breaks through the chaos, urgency lacing his words, "Are you alright?"

Trevor and Sypha continue to hold off the remaining creatures, occasionally glancing your way with concern.

The pain intensifies, each breath a struggle, but you manage to weakly nod, attempting to reassure Alucard. "I'm fine. Just a small scratch," you say, but your words fool nobody, especially not Alucard. He can read you like an open book and he knows when you're lying to him, like right now.

Ignoring the searing pain, you force yourself to sit up, only just realising the puddle of blood that formed beneath your body. The blood keeps flowing and it just doesn't stop. This can't be just a normal scratch. It's far too deep and something's... wrong.

As you struggle to maintain composure, Alucard's eyes narrow with concern and suspicion. He quickly assesses the severity of your wound, realizing that this is serious. Despite your attempts to downplay it, he knows better.

Trevor and Sypha, still engaged in battle, cast worried glances in your direction. The night creatures seem to sense an opportunity and press their advantage, intensifying their attacks.

Alucard's voice becomes more urgent, "We need to get you out of here. This wound is more serious than you're letting on." You shake your head weakly, not wanting your injury to distract you from the currently more important task - defeating the night creatures. "No, Alucard, I've already told you that I'm alright. Trevor and Sypha need you more right now," you say, not wanting to burden him with your current state.

"Y/N," he grumbles, a small tinge of frustration in his voice evident when you try to brush off the severity of your injury.

Without another word, Alucard lifts you gently off the ground, cradling you in his arms. With determination, he glides through the battlefield, skillfully dodging attacks while also protecting you at the same time.

Trevor and Sypha, seeing the situation at hand, hurry to cover your escape.

As you're carried by Alucard, the pain becomes unbearable, and your vision starts to blur. Alucard, with a mix of worry and determination, glances down at you, "Stay with me, Y/N. We're almost there."

Alucard navigates through the dark forest, dodging attacks and ensuring your safety. Trevor and Sypha fight off as much of the relentless night creatures as they can, forming something that somewhat resembles a path.

As the pain becomes overwhelming, your consciousness teeters on the edge. Alucard's voice cuts through the haze, urging you to stay conscious, though you're starting to wonder if even that's enough to keep you from losing consciousness.

Finally, the group reaches a secluded clearing. Alucard carefully lays you down, his hands now stained with your blood. Trevor and Sypha, having fought off the pursuing creatures, join Alucard's side.

Alucard's stern expression softens as he examines your worsening condition. He urgently looks around the clearing for a solution. Trevor and Sypha stand by, their concern mirrored in their expressions. Alucard, his eyes glowing with determination, declares, "We need a way to stop the bleeding. Sypha, do you have any healing spells?"

Sypha nods, her hands already starting to weave intricate patterns in the air. As she channels her magic, Alucard tears a piece of cloth from his own attire. "We'll need a makeshift bandage," he states, his voice steady despite the urgency of the situation.

Alucard swiftly ties the makeshift bandage around your wound as Sypha's healing magic takes effect. The pain begins to subside, and the bleeding slows down. Alucard's gaze remains fixed on you, his relief evident as he sees your skin go back to its normal colour, compared to how pale it was before.

Once the immediate danger has passed, Alucard leans in close, his eyes searching yours. "You scared me," he admits, his voice a low whisper filled with emotion. You manage a weak smile in return, your energy coming back to you slowly but surely.

The group takes a moment to catch their breath in the serene clearing. Alucard remains by your side, his concern still palpable. As the moonlight filters through the trees, Alucard tentatively reaches for your hand. Your fingers intertwine, a silent understanding passing between you two.

Trevor breaks the silence, his gruff voice cutting through the stillness, "Well, that was a bit more excitement than I bargained for." Sypha chuckles, her laughter echoing in the clearing, "We make quite the team, don't we?"

Alucard, his gaze never leaving you, nods in agreement.

The group decides to rest in the clearing for the night, tending to injuries and sharing stories around a small campfire. Alucard remains attentive to your needs for the rest of the night, making sure that you're okay after all of today's events.

[spacebarbarianweird]

hi!!! i play a drow/dhampir warlock, how do you think astarion would react if durgetav was a dhampir?

This is a very interesting take! Besides, I and @marcynomercy are obsessed with Dhampirs. Since I have a separate request for Drows, I will make this one solely about a Dhampir Tav

Who has serious body image and acceptanace issues because like many dhampirs Tav can't stand neither vampires nor vampiric ancestry.

Masterlist

Headcanons

Astarion x Dhampir!Tav

You are an outcast.

You spent your childhood as a normal child, but at the of 16 you felt a terrible bloodlust.

The fangs grew, replacing canines.

Your mother taught you all your life that vampires are monsters and disgusting creatures.

But apparently, she slept with one of them.

Since you are a god forsaken dhampir.

You are scared. You beg for mercy.

But your mortal family throws you out, threatening to murder you if you ever dare come back.

You run away. Alone and scared.

Maybe, vampires can answer your questions? Maybe, your father - whoever he is - can help you?

Alas, no family reunion for an outcast like you.

The vampire who fathered you is a disgusting evil creature who knows nothing but violence.

He doesn't recognize you as your child. Moreover, he doesn't even understand what you are.

You lock him in silver chains and drag him to meet the sun one last time.

You are a dhampir. The only thing any vampire must be afraid of.

Immune to vampirism. Fast and dangerous. A stepchild of the night.

You are embarrassed of your ancestry. You cover your mouth and explain your pale skin by a rare skin condition. But people still fear you, even more than vampires.

You wish you were never born like that.

Eventually, you become a renowned vampire hunter.

One day, you get a request to murder a certain Vampire Lord in Baldur's Gate along with all his spawns and thralls.

You are ready to do such a job pro-bono.

But... The gods have other plans for you.

The moment you meet Astarion, you know who he is. No vampire can hide their rotten nature from a dhampir.

But there is something about him, something about what and how he tells his story, that makes your feel pity.

He doesn't look like those morons who wanted to be vampires. He doesn't look like he enjoyed what he was doing on his master's orders.

He is a victim.

The night he wants to bite you, he realizes your blood tastes weird - it's not like he can't drink it, but more like... he'd better not.

"I am half a vampire, Astarion. Don't push your luck."

You agree that you won't have any problems with him drinking blood if he doesn't hurt the companions and useful people.

You know your own bloodthirst. Astarion has its much worse

You gradually fall in love. Maybe it's your own desire to embrace your dark nature.

Upon arrival at Baldur's Gate, you make a decision - you will destroy Cazador and all his spawns, leaving only Astarion alive.

But - you won't let him ascend.

Otherwise, you will be his mortal enemy. And if ascends, you will kill him instantly.

You kill Cazador - but something changes inside you. You see other spawns, miserable and sorrowful. You've never thought you could feel compassion toward them.

Astarion is different, after all. No vampire is like him. But others... You suddenly see so much in common with them.

Your dark family, your blood, your kind.

Astarion also makes a choice. Ascension means losing you. He will be able to subdue everyone to his will, but not a dhampir.

But you warn the spawns - you will not hesitate to kill them if they lose control.

Post-game, you together do what you do best.

Monster hunting.

You are immune to necrotic damage, he is a literal vampire. You are unstoppable together.

You help him with nightmares and body autonomy issues.

He trusts you. Even though he must be afraid of you.

Sometimes, you love-bite him with your fangs, and, gods, he likes it.

His skin regenerates, and you pierce it once again.

You also learn to love your own body. Your pale skin, your fangs, your dark hair.

It's difficult to hate yourself when Astarion adores you.

You are both fast and deadly.

And you are going to be together for many centuries - dhampirs live as long as elves. 

--

Tag list

@tugoslovenka @marcynomercy @wintersire @vixstarria @not-so-lost-after-all @ashiro20 @theearthsfinalconfession @herstxrgirl @starlight-ipomoea @micropoe10 @astarion-imagine-archive @veillsar @elora-the-slutty-songstress @fayeriess @lumienyx @astarion-beloved @tallymonster @caitlincat-95 @tragedybunny @valeprati

[parvulous-writings]

hi!

i guess dhampir bard strikes again.

(also sorry if the request is way too ridiculous or too detailed)

can i request a one shot/imagine of platonic wyll ravenguard x half-elf gn dhampir bard reader?

the dhampir bard is a noblewoman from waterdeep. their mother was an elf noblewoman. their father was a vampire lord, who was tricked into giving up his blood and then killed by his spawns. said vampire spawns ended up raised them, becoming their "siblings". they're very controlling of the reader, partially using them as a pawn. yet their "brothers and sisters" are also ironically extremely protective of her caused by the twisted familial "love". they also seized control over the reader's inherited wealth.

wyll and reader meet a few times, first time with him catching reader feeding. maybe, he'll see that despite the bad first impression the reader is not as much of a horrible person and monster as they seem.

Words: 3.2K

Warnings: mentions of familial death, gore, chains, and violence.

Notes: My requests are currently open, though limited! My pinned post (found here) contains both a list of characters I write for, and a masterlist!  Original character list - please request for these too!

The nature of your birth - of your very being - had always become quite the point of contention between you, and near enough anyone you came into contact with. Though you were noble by blood, the moment anyone learnt of your condition, their opinion of you soured. Such was the life of a dhampir.

Your mother was an elf - a woman of high esteem, or so you had been told. You had no memory of her - she had passed before you had reached your first year. Your father had been a human. Before he had become a vampire - which was long before your time, long before even your mother's time. Your family's tale was largely a tragic one; though most of the details had faded into myth, and legend. The stories broader strokes went as such;

A young human was taken in his youth by a vampire, tricked and changed into becoming one of the vampire lord's own spawn. Through one turn or another, this young man had been able to rise to the station of his master, freeing himself - to some extent. Over many years, this vampire gathered a few spawn for himself, naming them each his children, and acting as their twisted father - but his need for companionship was never quite sated. That was until he encountered the most enchanting elf he had ever met. Some say that he charmed her - conveniently forgetting that elves were immune to a vampire's gaze - whilst others insist that he wooed her, courted her, as any man would. Details change at this point, from person to person, teller to teller, as the tale was passed down through the years. Some say that this large, makeshift family was a happy one, others say that they were never even close to resembling a true pair of lovers, that instead they were more akin to an abductor and his victim.

What you would be able to tell them - through the stories that the vampire spawns that your father had sired, whom all acted as your siblings had told you - is that, for a time, the couple were happy. Incredibly so, as a matter of fact. Besides the fact that the Patriarch of the family had a very unsettling aura about him, and all of his so-called children followed his demands to the letter, you could hardly tell that they were any different from any other family. Unfortunately, this happy family was not the one that you had grown up with. You hardly even remember this time whenever your siblings recall it. You never really gave that much thought, however - why should you? You hadn't grown up in that environment, and you had accepted the fact that your siblings had taken it upon themselves to manage every part of your life, no matter how small. Your mannerisms were inherited from them, your outfits were normally picked out by your eldest sister. She had been named Keres after her quasi-death, and after your father's untimely demise, she had assumed the role of leader amongst the children, you included. She always had something to say about you - your hair was too untidy, your clothes were too crumpled, you weren't standing straight enough. She meant well, or so you believed. How else were you to make an impression amongst the other nobles? All you had so far was that your parents had died, giving you a dramatic and tragic edge.

"So, if the people see that you are refined, and are of good breeding in despite of this... Just imagine how many people will listen to you." Keres would coo as you stood before the mirror. It was always something that all three of your older siblings tried to strive for - to get you into the limelight, rubbing shoulders of all manner of rich and powerful people. Unbeknownst to you, your siblings were trying to put you into position so that they had more power over the high and mighty in the city. They had control over you, and your money... Next stop, the nobility of the Gate. There was just one, small problem with that. Though you weren't a full vampire, you still needed to feed.

Your brother, Mallor - the middle child - was the one normally in charge of fetching your food. Although, he was never particularly kind with the whole affair; withholding your meals when you displeased the rest of the family, as a sick and twisted punishment. You had tried to tell him that all this did was make things worse. It was awfully hard to concentrate when you were constantly hungry. But, he didn't listen - and worst of all, Keres agreed with him. "You'll earn your next meal, when you've done as Keres has asked." The taller man seethed at you, his fangs just peeking over his lips. "Until then... Well, best you pray I don't have it for myself." His voice is teasing - but you know that he isn't. Any opportunity to feed, and Mallor takes it without thinking, and without remorse. The youngest of the spawns - Tilli - was possibly the nicest, if you only took her actions at face value. She often let you escape the confines of the estate so you could run wild in the streets, feeding off of numerous vagrants: But not because she wanted you to be happy. She wanted you to get in trouble - to be punished. Such, in fact, was her plan tonight. She had left various doors that were usually locked come nightfall, unbarred. Though something in your brain tried to pull you back as you briskly made your way through the winding halls of your home, the hunger in your belly far outweighed any rational thoughts that popped into your head. Within mere moments, you could feel the cool evening air on your skin.

It doesn't take you long at all to find someone that you can sink your teeth into; the City is filled to the brim with people that could disappear, unnoticed, with no friends nor loved ones to mourn their loss. You corner them with ease, your gaze unwavering as you charm them, convincing them that you mean no harm. They believe you, of course, even though your charm isn't as strong as it could be if you were a full vampire. A ripple of relief flows through your body as your fangs start to sink into the jugular of your victim. You bite over and over, tearing away chunks of skin and muscle, to reveal the crimson nourishment held within. You're hardly aware of your surroundings - or how covered in blood and stray bits of flesh you are - until you hear someone call out, yelling at you to stop, and the audible sharpness of a blade as it's unsheathed from it's scabbard. Without thinking, you bear your fangs at the approaching figure, hissing in warning. However, they do not stop, seemingly undeterred by your threat. Seeing that they do not slow, you turn tail, fleeing as fast as your legs can carry you - which thankfully, is much, much faster than your oncoming attacker. You hear the quick, steady thud of boots on stone, and you know that they've decided to pursue you. It was probably the wiser thing to do, for them at least - you knew that your victim had died by the time you had bitten a second time, you were always sure with your strikes, trying to make the process as quick as possible for your victim. You weave through back-alleys and side streets, trying to lose the clearly righteous follower, but to no avail. Unfortunately, you make a wrong turn in your panic, and end up face to face with a dead end. With no other way out, you face the obstacle, starting to dig your claws into the bricks, pulling yourself up, until you are able to haul yourself over the other side. You fall quiet, listening for a moment, as you hear the tell-tale sound of boots rushing to the wall, before slowing to a halt. "... By Balduran's Helm..." You here your pursuer - presumably a man, from the sounds of it - mumble. You don't stick around for much longer than that, though; just in case he managed to figure out that you had just scaled the wall.

The entry hall of your home is eerily quiet when you return. That is, until the door slams closed behind you. "Keres is looking for you," Tilli informs you, in a sing song voice. A knot of dread forms in your chest. "She's not happy... Not at all - and when she sees how dusty your clothes are..." She trails off, laughing at your plight. "Oh I doubt you will sleep tonight... She was furious last I saw her..." You can tell that Tilli is nothing short of gleeful, she always has revelled in the distress and pain you felt when you got in trouble. You don't verbally acknowledge her taunts, instead marching forward to face whatever wrath you had incurred. Mallor is lurking by your bedroom door, arms folded over his chest, and a dark look on his face. "There you are-" His voice is little more than a growl as he reaches out to grab you, dragging you into your room with a grip like iron. Keres is pacing about within, her lips pulled into a snarl, which only grows more pronounced as she sees Mallor bringing you to her. "Where have you been, you little brat?!" She leaves no room for you to answer as she grabs your face, examining the gore smeared on it. "You couldn't have waited? You risked being seen, with one of the biggest galas of the year in less than a week?" Hells. You had forgotten about that. "Ridiculous!" Keres practically roars, shoving your face away. "You are not to leave this chamber until the Gala." Her voice is sharp as her gaze turns to your older brother. "Mallor." She commands, and he doesn't need further instruction to know what she wants him to retrieve. You hear the chains before you see them, and your eyes go wide.

"Sister- no, please-" Your voice cracks as you beg with her, trying to appeal to whatever lingering humanity there may be. "Oh, be quiet." Her voice isn't much more than a hiss, almost inaudible over the sound of her quite literally clapping the irons over your wrists and legs, before chaining you to one of the posts of your bed. "Now... Now you won't be going anywhere. I will be back to collect you, when it is time to prepare you for the gala." The venom in her tone makes you wince, even after all these years. You lower your gaze, and Mallor gives a huffing chuckle, before following his older sister out of the room, with not another word said.

The next few days pass by painfully slow, each one seeming to drag out more than the last. You try to sleep through it, and at first it works, but then the hunger returns, and it's difficult to make your mind focus on anything else. You try gazing out the window to the city below, watching the birds and the ships off in the distance, you even try picking at the hem of your clothes. Nothing works, there's still that constant nagging of wanting, needing to feed. You're in a haze of hunger when the door to your chambers opens, you hardly register it's happened. It's only when you feel someone tugging you to your feet by your chains that you realise there is someone in the room with you. The chains are off your wrists soon after, and you feel yourself being pulled about - not that you offer much resistance. "Oh, good... Everything is so much easier when you don't fight back..." Keres coos at you, carefully undressing you, and helping you into what feels like newly made clothes - most likely made especially for the gala this evening. You don't respond, knowing that anything you say would certainly sour her mood.

By sunset, you're being helped out of a carriage by the valet, offering a gentle nod of thanks, before moving to join the other nobles, mingling within the large hall - with gentle music drifting through the air. You try to stay towards the edge of the crowd - not daring to mingle too much amongst them, their heartbeats far too tantalising for your own liking. "Crowds not your thing?" A voice suddenly asks from beside you. You start a bit, suddenly turning your head to face your addressor. A bell rings in the distant corner of your mind - he sounds ever so vaguely familiar. He's a handsome man, young, with an eye catching gaze - most likely thanks to his two different coloured eyes; one a deep, luscious brown, the other, a stark differing... Grey. It seemed to be a prosthetic. You shake your head in answer to his question. It wasn't entirely a lie. "Mine, neither." He sympathises, with a smile. An emotion you can't quite read crosses his face; but it's gone as soon as you notice it. "Would you care to join me on the veranda? It's a wonderful evening - and I must say, there is hardly a soul there..." His suggestion does sound appealing - and you would do near anything to get away from the crowd and the thrum of their hearts beating in tandem; even if it meant risking the life of this young man.

In this case, you thought it to be the lesser evil. One versus many... You knew what the 'right' choice was, what your siblings would tell you. Once you were outside, the stranger fell oddly silent for a few minutes. He went to stand near to the railing, and you followed after him. "Forgive me, I may be speaking out of turn - and I truly mean no harm by it, but.." The man starts, sounding almost... Morose. "You look at lot like someone I saw, not too long ago. And, I'm not one to make baseless accusations, but you look extraordinarily like them." Odd you would say that, a voice sneered in your mind. You only saw me for a moment. But you stayed quiet, making your face change to a more... Confused expression. It seemed to work, and the man continued to speak. "... A few weeks ago, I saw what I can only describe as a heinous act - an aggressor, hunched over-" "You know, most people would at least introduce themselves before slandering the one whom they speak to.." You cut him off, only partially joking. The fellow looked down to his feet for a moment, as if recollecting himself. "Yes, of course... Please, do forgive me... My name is Wyll." "Well, Wyll," His name tasted sweet on your tongue, you had to admit. "Why would you accuse me of such a thing?" I brought a hand to your chest, feigning insult. "As I said - I do apologise, but the resemblance is so striking, that I couldn't just say nothing-" He hastily explained. "They murdered an innocent, and the Flaming fist have done nothing!" He hissed, leaning slightly towards you as his voice became hushed. "That doesn't mean you can accuse random nobility that you decide to socialise with-" You hiss back, your mouth opening just a bit too wide, exposing your fangs. You quickly clamp your mouth shut again once you realise, but by the horror struck look on Wyll's face, the damage had been done.

"It was you-" He exclaimed, stumbling slightly as he took a step back from you. "Wait!" You exclaim, holding up your hands, and willing him to stop. He hesitates, part of him clearly wanting to hear you out - the part of him that sought to wreak fair judgement. "Why should I?" He asked, somewhat harshly. "You killed an innocent man on the street!" "I had to feed-" You try to explain yourself, hurriedly continuing before Wyll could get the wrong idea of you. "I hadn't fed in so long, I was starving; my eldest sister, and brother... They withhold any food, if I do not follow their rules, and do as they say..." You see a flash of sympathy in his eyes, but it quickly hardens again. "You could be lying. How do I know you're telling me the truth?" He asks - and rightly so. You think for a moment, trying to come up with anything that could prove your story. You then quickly pull up your long sleeves, so that the cuff now hangs around your elbows, revealing the faint red marks around your wrists, from where the chains had sat for weeks on end. "These-" You gasp to him. "They chain me, to punish and control... The man you saw me feed on..." You trail off for a moment, having now fully admitted to what you had done. "He was a vagrant - I try to always go for them... Someone people want miss, or realise is gone... I know what I am, and what I do, makes me.. Deplorable, to a degree, but.. I am trying my best." You emphasise. "I can't ignore the hunger - I've tried that. The only thing to do, is to feed, when I need to..."

Wyll seems to think about this for a moment. The fact that you seemed to openly aim for vagrants was a somewhat valiant act on your part - at least you could realise that much. But, there was room for improvement. And he knew, he may be able to help you. "I believe you." He speaks softly, breaking the silence that had fallen over the both of you. You stare at him, in disbelief. "And... I am willing to help." He tells you. That took you by surprise even more. "There are... More morally correct people to feed from, if that is your issue... I can retrieve some of the.. More hardened criminals, from various parts of the city - my father has the standing, I'm sure I could wrangle some form of plan for you..." You stare at him, confused for a moment. "Ah... You look like you're about to ask me why I'm helping..." You nod, dumbly, in reply. "Well... I see good in you. Despite your siblings' control, despite your innate hunger, I see good in those eyes... And I am willing to put in some effort, to help you become better..." He assured you. You step forward, wrapping your arms around him for a moment, mumbling thanks into the clothing that covered his chest. He pulled you away after a moment. "You don't need to thank me - not yet, at least..." He offered a warm smile, and you allowed yourself to respond in kind. "Now, how about we head back inside... Have ourselves a small waltz... And see what ideas we can come up with, hm?" He suggests, offering you his arm. You nod, enthusiastically, "Yes.. I think that would be a very good idea.." You agree with him, as you follow his lead back into the hall, to begin concocting your shared schemes.

[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

[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."

[azulazenin]

Princess Mihaela of Styria and Prince Adrian of Wallachia – and of all vampires – around 1457, on a meeting arranged by Dracula and Carmilla. The point was introducing the little princess do Dracula's court and make it possible for the kids to become friends, since they were the only two living dhampirs in the whole world.

You can read their story on ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/49552465/chapters/125063038

Art made by punkedible on twitter

[falling-heights]

can i request yandere minthara baenre x dhampir bard reader?

"This music weeps , not for sin

But rather for the black fact

That we all must die ."

Everything has its price. You paid yours in full, as did she.

This union is far from conventional, but perhaps that's what makes it such an interesting case.

Two souls, both tragically wicked and dreadful.

She has never slept a single night without the fear of waking to a dagger at her throat, and you are no different, but she understands you are as helpless as she has been for much of her life. You cannot always control your hunger, but she has found ways to contain it.

A muzzle is strapped to your face at every waking moment, like a wild thing in need of being broken and trained. Shackles that bound your wrists and ankles, so you cannot lunge at her if you ever found yourself 'overwhelmed'.

She should slaughter a beast like you, your head another proud addition to her legacy of murder, but she cannot help but keep you alive. Your cravings amuse her, and she enjoys the show you put on for her when she decides to feed you some poor soul. There are times that she has waited longer, waited until you're craving blood beyond reason or morals. Hungry to the point you rip their throat open in desperation. And she revels in each act of savage violence.

Only the few times where you have been sated does she unshackle your cuffs. Only when you are your most reasonable, will she bring you your lyre, and ask you to play something. To ease her, she says. Though she's more dependent on it than she'll every say.

She can't sleep without your music. A poisonous little lullaby. Her own personal siren song.

She does not know what has caused such a strong dependence. Perhaps it comforts her. Perhaps, for a moment, it calms the vicious demands of her mind, her nightmares, her fears. How can her worries vanish the moment she hears you sing? How can its sickening sweetness be so pleasing? She may never understand it, but she knows there is no need to try.

All she needs is the sound of your fingers plucking strings and your voice soothing her into yet another deeply soundless sleep.

There is nothing, she imagined, that would ever bring her this level of satisfaction. Death could not bring her such comfort. Fear could not make her smile. It's like your music has rewritten her brain to understand new forms of peace. Of love. She protects you just as much as she keeps you. She has never met such a captivating creature, and she would burn the Sword Coast to ash and extinguish the Hells should anything happen to her bloodthirsty bard.

Hope you liked it, babe

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