memeadonna

[memeadonna]

[memeadonna]

non-practicing slut. is this anythign

[memeadonna]

@proficiency-in-shibari

It you!

[memeadonna]

Reference

#Yesssss #I'm a law student and I approve this message #It is a serve though #and I adore the way you draw his face and that sassy little hip cock #you really nailed this!

[memeadonna]

If you ever feel dumb I created my second Tav to romance Gale (after the weave scene triggered with my first Tav) knowing nothing at all about his romance path.

I named her Tara.

#bg3 #I'm very stupid #gale of waterdeep #gale dekarios #gale x tav #Tav number one is a Wizard so she is now going to be his girlfriend #Tav Two gets Astarion because they are rogues who do crime together #and I'm not having Gale fuck a girl sharing a name with his cat #no spoilers please i'm still in act one!

[memeadonna]

not far into the game yet but saw a clip of astarion confessing he hadn’t been able to see his reflection since turning and my brain started whirring like a damn buzzsaw. hope you guys enjoy!

oh, the hungering teeth (astarion x gender neutral! reader, baldur’s gate 3)

You’re nearly asleep, though you seem to be doing your damnedest to fight it. You seem to think something nefarious or other will occur the second you close your eyes; a sound fear, what with the motley crew you’ve gathered, and yet for now the camp remains quiet enough, save for the shifting of bedrolls and the crackle of the fire.

“Even saviors need their slumber, my dear,” he quips, pillowing his cheek in the curve of his palm and watching in delight as your brows furrow. By the gods, he would never tire of that look upon your face, your annoyance tempered only by your rising affection for him. 

“‘m not tired,” you mumble, a filthy lie if Astarion’s ever heard one - and he’s heard plenty. “I have a few hours in me yet.”

Astarion releases a breath, reaches a hand toward your face and traces a nail along your cheek. He thrills as you shiver, your eyes slipping closed for the first time all evening, and continues his caress along your jaw until he can graze his thumb along the soft swell of your bottom lip. 

“Really now, darling,” he murmurs, pitching his voice low until it’s little more than a hush between you. The rest of the camp falls away in these moments, leaving just the two of you to soak in the warmth of the fire. He watches the glow sink into your skin and wonders if you would taste of the flames, if only he dared to ask for a bite. “I know it may not seem so, but I can assure you that the earth will continue turning even without your watchful eye to guard it.” 

You huff a laugh, and though it’s barely more than a breath and heavy with fatigue, Astarion finds himself leaning in, wanting to chase it. 

“Doubtful,” you say, and this time it’s his turn to laugh.

“And yet you must try,” he returns, watching the glide of his thumb along your lip, the way your breath ruffles his sleeve. “The rest of us will endure, if only for the night.” 

You smile then, and he feels it, the slow curl of your lips against his thumb, the twitch of your jaw against his palm. He’s so enamored by the curve of your lips that he misses your eyes, lids parting to seek out the planes of his face. 

“You worry too much.” 

“Hmm?” Astarion catches your gaze, only to find you reaching for him, rubbing the pad of your thumb lightly between his brows.

“There’s always a furrow here,” you mumble, voice thick with sleep. Your thumb glides along one brow, smoothing the hairs there, and your lips quirk. “Strong brows, silver in the moonlight, and always dancing.”

He huffs a laugh, though his chest has grown tight - with realization, with adoration. 

“Your eyes crinkle when you laugh,” you continue, thumbing along the delicate skin beneath his eye. “Piercing eyes, they are. Ringed by thick lashes. Red as rubies, or blood.”

Astarion’s fangs ache within the cavern of his mouth, though it isn’t quite a meal he hungers for. He feels flayed open, suddenly, dreadfully exposed, and yet he does nothing to stall your words or to escape your gaze, even as it swallows him whole. 

“High cheekbones,” you murmur, the tips of your fingers tracing his cheek. The delicacy of the gesture is so at odds with your fierceness in battle that it nearly upends him. “They pinken after you feed, did you know?”

Astarion’s lips part to speak, though it takes a clearing of his throat to free the words glued to his tongue. “Hadn’t the foggiest.” 

Your nails drag along the edge of his jaw, digging softly into the skin there. It gives beneath your fingertips as though his skin has been molded for your touch, and his mouth parts on an exhalation of your name. 

“Darling - “

“Soft, here.” Your voice grows hushed, contemplative as you trace the bow of his lips, his breath warm against your wrist. “Always, even when you’re sneering.”

“I don’t sneer,” Astarion protests, but the words carry little weight. Your skin is too soft against his, your smile too warm, his thoughts too muddled by the sharp bite of affection he feels for you. 

“Liar.” The accusation comes without heat. Astarion bares his fangs regardless, more tease than threat, but you’re well-prepared, your thumb slipping along his tongue and grazing the sharp points of his incisors. 

He freezes. Some part of him wonders what he must look like, what the others might see, were their eyes to drift beyond the flames to your bedrolls - his mouth parted around your thumb, your skin wet with his saliva, his eyes blazing through the darkness like rubies, like blood. 

“Minx.” It comes out garbled, without bite. An inferno roars within his chest, sinks into his limbs, his belly, burning him from the inside out. What a wicked, wonderful thing you are.

Your lips curl into a warm, loving smile. The swell of your thumb presses against his fang, the soft pop of pierced flesh roaring through his ears like a dragon’s screech. The scent of your blood - sharp, sweet - fills the air. 

Astarion releases a sound he’ll be haunted by later - needy, desperate, hungry - and pushes his brow against yours, his curls tickling your face, your breath warm against his lips. 

“Rest,” he commands you, his fingers knotting in the fabric at the small of your back. “Lest you tempt me further, and we both lose sleep this night.”

You laugh, a soft sound laden with approaching slumber, and press your fingers to the strip of flesh bared by the collar of his tunic. 

“As you wish,” you murmur sleepily. You say it so easily, so readily, succumbing to his whims without thought, and Astarion squeezes his eyes shut and tucks you close, feeling the depth of the power he wields filling him to the brim, cracking him open, and spilling over. 

Within the circle of his arms, you sleep.

#this is so soft and sweet #he’s adorable and needs all the affection #astarion x reader #give him a kiss #and a warm blanket

[memeadonna]

i think it is unjust to deny a child their right to dig a hole motivelessly

[memeadonna]

[memeadonna]

Dammon aka mr gentlest look

#i am normal about this man

[memeadonna]

Wyll's new kiss

it's cute but does make me giggle a bit

no kisses unless you spin around first

#A friend just sent me this #and this was my actual reaction

[memeadonna]

sorry if i’m being a party pooper but because rabies is apparently the new joke on here ??? please remember that rabies has an almost 100% fatality rate after symptoms develop so if you’re bitten or scratched by an animal that you aren’t 100% sure is vaccinated then GO TO A DOCTOR. it’s not a joke. really. 

[memeadonna]

A Moment in Time - Dearly Missed

[memeadonna]

[memeadonna]

[memeadonna]

look at this video of a mouse eating soup and bread and butter

[memeadonna]

[memeadonna]