#dhampirs

[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."

[caemidraws]

is the dance really over / if you’re not letting go?

[rosetyler42]

Thought this one'd be fun.

Lucy showing off her powers and pranking by flying the twins, Simon, and Gideon around while chanting "Ancient Sins."

I liked the idea that Lucy would LOVE messing with and scaring Lil Gideon both as a get back for what he did to Dipper and Mabel, giving him a taste of his own medicine AND to show him how someone with TRULY innate psychic powers does things. Also, I couldn't help but imagine Dipper having a little PTSD from Lil Gideon attacking him (that Lucy doesn't really know about here)

I know Gideon does genuinely get better but...he's still the kind of person Lucy would LOVE to mess with. XD

@martin44444 @lovelylivelyv @black-ak9 @hotelt-resurrection @serial-serializednovelreader @wingingfromthezing @heartsong1994 @kittyball23 @deathfangirl9 @crazybookenthusiast @genderqueer-bithing @howling-nightmare @nerdalmighty

[ibrithir-was-here]

Do Quincey's parents know that he's not quite human? Have they talked to him about it at all? (The Talk only instead of birds and bees it's bats)

@animate-mush

Oh my gosh "The Birds, the Bees and the Bats" talk xD That stupendous

Ok, so what I've basically thought is that they more or less try to give him a normal childhood as much as possible, with his and their own Peculiarities taken into account of course.

He picks up some things of course by himself along the way, from observing (hmm, not everyone else's mother's seem to be literally able to read their thoughts more or less, and other people's fathers aren't quite as strong or fast, nor do most people's eyes seem to glow at night) and from just little bits he overhears from the wider Crew of Light family

So he puts together that Something happened and made his parents That Way (both in supernaturalness and tone of Character) and that it had something to do with Aunt Lucy and Uncle Quincey's deaths.

And of course the book has been published in universe by the time he's a child. But pretty much anyone who hasn't had some sort of supernatural experience themselves is just going to look at "Quincey Harker" and think his parents were just fans of the book and shake off any strangeness as soem sort of trick of the light. Afterall, he's a perfectly nice, very polite young man. Nothing untoward about him or his family except maybe how openly affectionate his parents are towards eachother.

But since the book does exist, he ends up reading it by about the time he's 12-13, at a friends home, and after that, he stews for a good week turning things over in his mind before he comes to his parents with A Lot of Questions but also some answers to questions he'd had.

Jonathan and Mina had wanted to wait till he's reached his majority, but now yeah they have to sit him down and give him the Birds,Bees and Bats talk.

He overall takes it pretty well, after all he has the evidence of his own eyes to back things up. He does worry a little bit about his own Peculiarities as he seems to have more then his parents (no shadow, greater eyesight then either of them at night, ect) but they assure him he's perfectly fine and so so loved. And for a long while that's all he needs.

He volunteers for the War when it comes, thinking his abilites might even be an asset to help end what surely won't be anything more than a short adventure, he's protecting England just like his parents did!

Of course things turn out very differently, both for the world and for Quincey

He didn't know that battles could be like this, that people could do things like that to eachother, that he could do Things Like That to other people, and do it again and again whenever he feels backed into a corner, sure that this time Death is surely coming for him.

But he keeps surviving. The raging thing inside him keeps him sharper, faster , living.

And he starts to wonder, if maybe it would be better if he wasn't.

Maybe it would be better if one of those bullets hit, one of those shells made its mark, and he didnt just shake it off.

Because he knows now the thing that haunted his parents, and how much they hated it. And he loves his parents so much, and he knows they love him, they're the reason he keeps trying to survive to make it home.

But he doesn't know just what he'll be at this point if he makes it home, and he doesnt want to bring That back to the doorstep of the people he loves most...

[lunarcrystal]

Hellsing's residential Dhampirs, Abraham & Asha attending a roundtable meeting with their bond villain like mother.

[nigelgraz]

Random but i just wanted to say watching Vampire Hunter D as a child simply changed the trajectory of my life and it's probably the main reason i am the way i am now and like the things i like

[keigo0]

[honourablejester]

5e Character Concept: Ravenloft Lovecraftian Dhampir

So a while back I had an idea for how to put a more lovecraftian spin on the dhampir, because Van Richten’s Guide to Ravenloft does give you some hunger and backstory options for dhampirs that aren’t your usual ‘bitten by a vampire’ or ‘half-breed child of a vampire’. Things like hungers for cerebral spine fluid and psychic energy, and origins like ‘a parasite lives inside you; you indulge its hunger’, ‘you are a diminished form of an otherworldly being; slaking your hunger hastens your renewal’, and ‘a radical experiment changed your body, making you reliant on others for vital fluids’. So. There’s carte blanche already to go lovecraftian here, and all I want to do is slightly reflavour the vampiric bite to be silvery feeding tendrils that lie along her jaw like scars and unfurl to dive into some poor saps ear canal to feed. You know. For fun.

But. VRGR also has several cosmic horror Domains of Dread, and one of them is Bluetspur. The mind flayer domain, whose Darklord is the God-Brain, an insane and mortal elder brain whose horrific experiments towards apotheosis resulted in its physical form rebelling against itself, giving it a slow, horrific wasting disease that it is desperately trying to fight. Which, fun. Bluetspur is completely inhospitable to human life, you won’t find characters from there. What you will find is characters who were abducted to there, experimented on, and thrown back without their memories if the experiments were unsatisfactory. Amnesiac characters with fragmented dreams of vast mountains under red suns, things moving inside their skin, and pallid tentacles wielding surgical instruments. You know, your standard alien abduction repressed memories.

And. Bluetspur is also the origin of vampiric mind flayers. Feral mind flayers infected with vampirism by the God-Brain, so that they can drain cerebral fluid from victims and return to be dissolved by the God-Brain along with their cargo to stave off its own degeneration and dementia. Hence the additional dhampir origins above. So. With that in mind …

Just while we’re here, I want to kit out a full Ravenloft lovecraftian dhampir, a survivor of the twisted experiments of Bluetspur. And, just because we’re going full Lovecraft here, I do think we’re going to go for Aberrant Sorcerer? Just to go full tentacle. But, also. Dhampir. Experiments that changed your body. Psychic infections from a mad, diseased God-Brain and its desperate servants. Aberrant fits pretty well? Our sorcery was not inborn, it absolutely came from massive physical and psychic trauma.

Do I want to go full partial ceremorphosis? Dhampir has the parasite option, and Aberrant Sorcerer also has ‘infected with mindflayer tadpole but transformation couldn’t complete’ as an origin option. And since I’m going full Ravenloft and giving her a Dark Gift as well, ‘Symbiotic Being’ is an option. But. I think I’d prefer ‘Gathered Whispers’ for the Dark Gift. Granted, that still has ‘an alien intelligence intrudes upon my thoughts’ or ‘a sibling I don’t have shares my body’ as spirit options, so it could still work. But I think …

I think she was an extremely flawed experiment. Instead of infecting a mind flayer with vampirism, or infecting a vampire with ceremorphosis, they were trying to do both at once, short-cut the process by infecting a human with both, and they sort of … cancelled each other out? Fully messed her up, rewrote her body, fucked up her mind to the point that Modify Memory was barely necessary, but she’s neither a mind flayer nor a vampire. There is no surviving tadpole. Instead, she’s a halfway thing, and the spirits of Gathered Whispers are the fragments, or ghosts, of so many unsuccessful experiments of Bluetspur. Some of them are mind flayers. (Maybe one of them is the ghost of the tadpole). Some of them were human. It’s all a mess, and so is she.

And then she was dumped back out into another Domain of Dread, or maybe just tossed into the Mists until she stumbled into whatever one was closest.

If I was playing her, obviously this would be whatever Domain the campaign is in. For this thought experiment, though, I think it would be really fun if she was spat back out into Lamordia? You know, the gothic, industrial, mad science, Frankenstein Domain? With all her fragmented memories of experimentation and bodily transformation, to land in a domain dominated by mutation, radiation, and bodily experimentation. Just to fully traumatise her, and also maybe to confuse her memories? Given that they’re so fragmentary, maybe she thinks her memories are of Lamordian experimentation, and it takes a good long while for her to realise that they’re from somewhere much further and more alien.

So. To pull all that pile of trauma together. Picture a tall, rangy, slightly wild-eyed woman, with a rather dark, healthy-looking complexion. Not vampiric pale. Tangled brown hair streaked with gray. Long, bony hands that shake slightly. Two thin, silvery scars, one on each side of her face, running along her jawbone. And if an enemy ever gets too close, well. Those scars unfurl. Twin tendrils, thin, silvery feeding tendrils, that dive into that enemy’s ears.

Is she Lamordian? Originally, I mean. Was she stolen from there? Do we want to give her a Germanic sort of name? Irma might be fun. It means whole, which is nicely cruel. Irma Hafner. Hafner means potter, from hafan, or vessel. Whole vessel. Or whole/great maker of vessels. Maybe the mind flayer who stole her way back when had a dark sense of humour. Heh.

I’m not sure on the background. Well, no. I do kind of want to take the Ruined background from The Book of Many Things again, mostly because it lets her take Tough at first level, which will be very handy since she’s built around Cha/Con for spells and her bite, and she’s a sorcerer and therefore has no hit points. It also gives her stealth and survival, which seem quite fitting for a wild amnesiac who wandered out of the mists with nothing but broken memories of being tortured. So, yes, her mechanical background is Ruined. As, well, she was. But I meant more … what’s her profession? What does she do? How is she trying to make her living right now. Is she just a wild beggar woman wandering around? (Has she met Elise?) Actually, that might not be a bad idea. Sorcerers don’t need much in the way of equipment. She’ll be using her bite and cantrips instead of weapons, and after that we can say she scrounged the makings of a component pouch and an explorer’s pack.

Sidenote: Bluetspur and Lamordia really do have a lot in common. Darklord Viktra’s desperation to defeat death and cure Elise’s wasting disease, the God-Brain’s desperation to defeat death and its own wasting disease. I bet Viktra would find the God-Brain fascinating. And it might, maybe, think her … useful. Heh.

But, yes. Mechanically. Irma is a Dhampir, and Aberrant Sorcerer, and Ruined. She has a dark gift, Gathered Whispers, which means she’s haunted by spirits, whispering voices, which will give her the Message cantrip, a reaction to add her proficiency to her AC for 1 attack if the opponent isn’t deaf, and some fun consequences whenever she rolls a 1. She’ll have 16 each in Charisma and Constitution, with probably Dexterity and Wisdom as her next highest, and Intelligence and Strength taking up the rear. Her vampiric bite has been reflavoured to feeding tendrils along her jaw, and she feeds on cerebral fluid. She’ll start out with a respectable 11 hit points, which is not bad on a sorcerer. Starting cantrips are Mind Sliver, Message, Mage Hand, Chill Touch, Prestidigitation and Minor Illusion. Starting spells are Arms of Hadar, Dissonant Whispers, Mage Armour and Sleep. She’s a beggar and a wild woman, and she has dark dreams and fractured memories of a strange red sun, and things pulling her apart to put her back together. And not much in the way of other memories, or at least not whole ones.

She is trying very hard to pretend to be sane and sort-of-normal. She is not succeeding very well. But, you know. She’d like some food, and some money, and she has this nagging impression that the worst has already happened to her, so she’s willing to brave a few terrors in pursuit of them. Just. Labs, laboratories, might be tricky for her. Medical procedures. Tentacles. Things like that. Heh.

Irma Hafner. A survivor of Bluetspur, a Ravenloft lovecraftian dhampir.

[eddiemelrose]

I have a Thought that I'd love to hear everyone's opinions on. We all know that a lot of Moroi men will have affairs with dhampir women resulting in children but be absent from their lives. We also know that Randall Ivashkov proves that royal Moroi are part of this group of men.

So I wonder if Lissa's rule would have been given the same validity if Jill was a dhampir. There are probably so many dhampirs out there that are the illegitimate children of royals that Eric Dragomir being father to one wouldn't be that big of a deal and might not even count in some people's eyes considering how much some Moroi talk about dhampirs.

AND I'm also left to wonder about Adrian's children. Would Declan be seen as a royal while he is also seen as Adrian's son? What about other children they might have in the future? They would have the surname Ivashkov but would they really be treated like a royal? I'm guessing no 🤷🏻‍♀️

[saccharine-sanguine]

"You're a vampire so like clearly your favorite class will be spooky stuff like necromancy and stuff yeah?",

"I'm drooid I like amimals."

[graveyardcuddles]

Thinking about dhampir toddlers/lil kiddos again. Imagine needing to mop the ceilings and floors after they leave tiny footprints from the little ones spider-climbing because you know Astarion isn't doing it. 🙄

But since they're lil babus and clumsy with still learning how to use their powers they don't always stick perfectly to the ceiling. Sometimes they fall and Astarion panics SO BADLY. Literally yelling at you find a healing potion for them right NOW. Doesn't calm down until he realizes they're crying because they got scared rather than seriously hurt.

Eventually the kiddos get used to taking falls and learn to stay properly stuck to the ceiling. Astarion will 100% deny how badly he freaked out the first time it happened.

[caemidraws]

---

[rosetyler42]

Ok, I lied. One more since people seem to like and want more of Ericka + Dennis.

I thought this would be a fun way to get the contrast out between Ericka and Mavis, with Dennis worrying about what would happen if his aunt amd Uncle never got fangs since mom was saying humans couldn't be happy at the hotel.

While Mavis desperately wanted Dennis to be human so he could fit in and not he "weird", Ericka has more of a pull to monstrosity. Plus, this place is her home. This is her family. To Ericka, fangs or not, there was no question her kids would grow up here. (Not that she'd have anyplace else to go, to be fair. Unlike Johnny, she didn't grow up immersed in normal human culture.) The fiercely loyal and family-oriented Ericka never did like the fact Mavis basically pushed humanity on the boy and nearly moved him away from the only family he's ever known to a place hurling Vampire microaggressions and thinking being picked on toughened kids up just because of Mike and Linda and her desire to give humanity a chance. ("Great-Grandpa and I HATED monsters, and we put more thought into creating a welcoming environment on our DEATH CRUISE than these two put in their WHOLE 'Welcome to the Neighborhood' party! Now, I get them not knowing these things like we would but the internet exists! And monsters were out of hiding almost 6 YEARS by then! Did NO ONE in this family bother to do their research or ask questions while putting together this 'Come live with us' party to make sure the guest of honor ACTUALLY felt WELCOME there!? That's not just basic manners, that's event planning 101!!") And Sure, Drac screwed up by sinking into Vlad's sink or swim attitude, but she gets why it happened. And she'll take sink-or-swim attitudes that need to be unlearned over being bullied and forced to live up to expectations any day.

Ontop of this, Ericka's also far less overprotective than Mavis or Drac too. She grew up in an environment where she was expected to handle danger, high pressure situations, and learn to protect herself. Life is risk, after all. And freaking out over every little thing a kid could possibly get into is silly and does little to help the situation. Of course, she wants them to be safe and feel loved and doesn't really likebthe way she was raised either. But she teaches them prevention, wants to give them freedom, and doesn't swaddle them in bubble wrap or push her own ideals on the twins.

Basically: She tries to find the middle ground between helicopter parenting and "Sink or Swim." Monster AND Human.

@lovelylivelyv @black-ak9 @hotelt-resurrection @serial-serializednovelreader @deathfangirl9 @wingingfromthezing @heartsong1994 @kittyball23 @ebevkisk

[lunarcrystal]

nefarious Twins of Hellsing

[areyousanguine]

Explore the Unknown in Sanguine

Ready for adventure? Hollow Creek’s mysteries are waiting. Experience supernatural struggles, uncover secrets, and choose from humans, vampires, or dhampirs. Shape your story where every shadow has a secret.

[thenixart]

[ID: A drawing of a character facing the viewer with their body turned slightly to the left. The character is topless, they are wearing a cloth belt low on their hips, a cloth band with metal rings on their upper left arm, and a bat themed headdress that covers their eyes with a curtain of beads.

The character has a lean, somewhat muscular body with thick black bat wing tattoos on their shoulders. The character is sticking their inhumanly long tongue out and their fangs and crooked front teeth are visible. The character has long hair worn in two braids that come together in a bat themed clasp under their chin into a single braid.

The drawing is black line art with a red sketch faintly visible underneath. /End ID]

Blood Priest My oc Zan dressed up as a priest for Halloween

@kariachi