dollarstore-writings

[dollarstore-writings]

It had been a complete accident. Truly.

Mindlessly running your hand through his hair, the tips of your fingertips unknowingly brush against the tip of his ear, and it makes him groan.

Thinking it had been out of pain, you tear your hands away from his head, eyes blinking wide. "What happened? Are you okay?"

And instead of a scowl, you find that his cheeks are multiple shades darker than usual--almost pink. He mumbles something under his breath, then shifts his entire body around so that his face is buried into your stomach, arms locked around your waist. He says something, this time so muffled you can barely hear the words they're supposed to form.

"I can't hear if you're talking into my stomach."

He says it louder this time. "...good."

"What?"

Then, finally, he whips his head just enough to meet your gaze. "It feels good."

Your brows lift, and you slowly slip your hands back into his hair. "This?"

"No--I mean, that too, but--" he's flushing brighter now, and your eyes practically sparkle at how flustered he sounds. It's a rare occurrence, but Astarion at a loss for words is something you hold dear to your heart. "--my ears."

"Your ears," you repeat, hands slowly inching to the sides of his head. You carefully trace the shape of his pointy ears, watching as he practically shudders, melting into your touch. Even your own cheeks seem to heat. "Like that?"

He wordlessly nods, opting to bury his face into your stomach again to avoid facing the power he's just given you. And you use it well, gently massaging his skin with your finger pads, drinking in the way his body reacts to your touch. "Oh my god."

Hours later, when your head lays on top of his arm and he has you close to his chest, you smile up at him cheekily.

He notices the way you're struggling to keep in your laughter. "What?"

"What does it feel like when I touch your ears?"

He nearly chokes on his own words, horrified by how upfront the question is. "It--I don't know, it just feels nice."

"Nice is an understatement."

He groans. "Please, darling, this is humiliating."

And despite the way you continue to poke fun at him and the way he feigns annoyance, whenever the two of you are alone, he always opts to put his head in your lap, and you choose to knead your fingers through his curls.

[dollarstore-writings]

Open your hearts to cowboy muriel

[dollarstore-writings]

"comrade in arms" yeah i bet he was in your arms. every night. fruit

[dollarstore-writings]

PLEASE ONE CHANCE

[dollarstore-writings]

oop, astarion with a male reader with the personality of karlach? imagine astarion saying to him "i love you" for the first time and man goes "I LOVE YOU TOO‼‼" 😭

𝐢 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 | blurb

pairing—astarion x gn!reader warnings—none word count—488 rating—pg

I love you.

Never did he ever think he would say those three words and mean it, really mean it. Let alone hear them being said back with such sincerity, such purity.

You had been wanting to tell him how you felt for a while now. Since the very first time you held him, in fact. But Astarion was more timid in nature than he would like to let on and you knew he would only turn heel and run if you told him too soon. Well, if he even believed the words as they fell from your lips.

Timing was crucial. Which is why you chose to leave the timing down to him, allow him to say it first.

The night he finally did, the two of you were sitting not too far outside of the city. Up on a hilltop with a distant view of the still bustling streets down below.

You’d set it up as a treat for the two of you. Some time alone to yourselves when you needed it most. Quiet amongst the chaos.

So you sat together looking up at the stars. He had rested his head comfortably against your shoulder, enjoying your warm embrace when you wrapped an arm around him.

When he sighed and sat back up, moving away from you, you thought for a moment that the night was coming to an end too soon. Only, he hadn’t moved so far away and had in fact simply wanted to gaze upon your face.

His crimson eyes were softer than you had seen them before with a slight hint of unsureness within them but soon he met your inquisitive eyes again and said what was on his mind. Uttering those three difficult words. I love you.

Any unsureness that had been creeping up within him was soon dispelled as you smiled, twinkling under the moonlight with joy.

“I love you too!” you all but cried out as you jumped to your feet, finally able to say what you’ve been holding in.

He chuckled as you said it again, watching as you made your way to the side of the hill, cupping your hands around your mouth as you yelled at the top of your lungs. “Astarion, I love you!”

With a snicker, he held out his arms in a way of surrender. “Okay, darling, hush now. I think all of Baldur’s Gate heard you the first time.”

You turned back to him and wrapped him in your arms, nestling your face into the crook of his neck. Against his cold, pale skin you mumbled, “I mean it. I love you.”

His arms had already twisted around you, accepting your welcome embrace without hesitation. For once, he was surprised to find that he believed you. Surprised to find that through you, he had come to realise that he was not only capable of loving someone but also worthy of being loved.

[dollarstore-writings]

i love astarion i love soft astarion i love sweet art showing his little freckles on his cheek i love when the sunlight hits his face i love when people draw him and their tav i love the crinkles by his eyes and the laugh lines that show how happy he can be i love his raspy voice and whispered sarcasm i love his hand gestures and the twitch his nose does when he silently disagrees with something i love his heart fot animals i love the blush and star filled eyes when he understands he is loved and see

[dollarstore-writings]

hurt comfort with the astarion guy pls I don't don't know anything about the game I've just seen clips of him on youtube and I love him

you aSK AND YOU SHALL RECIEVE i love him

Blood is Rare and Sweet as Cherry Wine

Character: Astarion (Baldur's Gate)

Warnings: reverse hurt/comfort, mentions of alcohol (reader doesn’t drink), general astarion backstory information but it’s nothing super specific. not proofread

Notes: almost cried writing this. im sorry. anyway I'm a hozier lover what else is new.

gn reader

reblogs > likes

send an ask to join my taglist

Astarion stared at the fire, leaning back against one of the boxes under his tent. There was something serene about this area—they’d never been attacked at camp, and it comforted him to know he could let his guard down somewhere. If only slightly. 

He was so lost in thought that he didn’t notice you walking up to him until you spoke. 

“Astarion?” you asked, voice softer than he expected. “Are you alright?”

He must have looked upset—he didn’t need your pity, though, so he tried to shake himself back to reality. “What can I do for you, my dear?” he asked, sitting up a bit straighter and taking a sip of the ale next to him. 

You paused, looking at him with your eyebrows furrowed slightly, then finally decided to sit next to him. He offered the ale but you declined. Instead, you turned your body to face him and slowly, gently, brushed a bit of hair out of his face. 

And he flinched. 

You quickly pulled your hand away from him and rested it in your lap. He stared, wide-eyed, terrified of his own actions. He’d inflicted pain on countless others and never felt guilt for it, but such a simple gesture broke him. 

“I’m sorry,” he says, voice small and quiet. It was unlike anything you’d ever seen before. Astarion was always so eccentric, so proud, so…unafraid. This was an entirely new side to him, and he was even more embarrassed to show it to you. He wanted to run, he wanted to hide, but he didn’t have the energy to make his feet move. To make anything move. 

There was a beat of silence, where the two of you only listened to the crackling fire a few feet away. Then, you spoke. “You don’t have to apologize for anything.”

He didn’t understand how you could be so kind to him. There were so many things wrong with him as a person, or things from his past—he’d hurt people, tricked them, found ways for dear Cazador to turn them into mindless little puppets. Like he was, before all this mindflayer business. 

There was so much wrong in the world, and there you sat. His ray of sunshine—his hope. Somehow with you, things seemed a little less dreary. True, there was some mystical dream-being that followed you around keeping everyone from sprouting tentacles, so that was something positive. But your general disposition, the way you smiled at him when you caught him staring at you, the way you snuck away from the rest of camp with him to watch the stars…all these things made him fall so hopelessly in love. 

He couldn’t be that person for you, though. He never learned how to make big, romantic gestures or show his affection in a way that made sense. A way that made sure you knew he adored you in your best and worst moments. Cazador had ruined him—he’d ruined any semblance of having a normal life. On top of being a vampire spawn and ripped away from his life before, he was stuck in an endless loop of servitude and puppetry or constantly fearing for his life. He never learned or could afford, to just relax. You deserved someone who could love you whole-heartedly, not the monster he’d become. 

“I care for you so, so deeply, my dear,” he all but whispered, voice tight with emotion. 

“I know.”

“I cannot, for the life of me…” he trailed off, quickly wiping a tear from the corner of his eye. “I cannot understand why you care for me.”

His head hung low; you stared at him, shocked and unsure how to react to his words. He felt embarrassed, he felt small—there was nothing he could do, it seemed, to pull himself out of this rut he had himself stuck in lately. 

Then he heard your words. 

“Can I hug you, Astarion?”

He glanced over to you, seeing teh pleading look in your eyes. You’d asked. Maybe that made him feel a little more normal, a little less messed up. Hesitantly, he leaned into your embrace. The moment he felt the warmth of your arms around him, though, he melted. He laid his head on your chest, his full weight falling into you exponentially by the second. And with it, he began to cry. 

It was heart-wrenching sobs that felt like someone stabbing him through the heart every time, but he couldn’t mistake the comfort of your hands running through his hair. The soothing, repetitive motion calmed his nerves more than he thought possible. After what felt like ages, he began to sit up, trying to put himself back together like that hadn’t just happened. His eyes looked slightly irritated, but he tried desperately to wipe any evidence of his outburst from his face—

Suddenly, he felt your hands around his face, thumbs running over his cheeks. He stopped—his hands slowly fell, and he relaxed into your embrace once again. 

“You do not have to apologize for feeling things, Astarion,” you said softly. “And you certainly don’t have to hide from me. Not your thoughts, not your emotions.”

He nodded, turning his head slightly to the side to kiss the palm of your hand. His voice was hoarse but surprisingly gentle. “Thank you. I don’t deserve you.”

“That’s the thing. You do.”

He smiled softly—it had been a long time since he felt like he could do so freely. 

taglist

@grays321

[dollarstore-writings]

𝐢'𝐦 𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 | oneshot

pairing—astarion x m!tav summary—when tav falls ill, everyone at camp is surprised to find that astarion is intent on staying by his side until he’s better warnings—illness, mention of poison, soft astarion, worried astarion, worried party, hurt/comfort, extensive use of pet names, super soft, extreme fluff word count—754 rating—teen note—this is entirely self-indulgent because i’ve been really ill this past week (thanks covid) and the whole time i was thinking about how astarion would comfort tav if he was hurt/sick so i came up with the idea for this

“How is he?” he asks and for what might be the first time, she can hear sincerity in his voice.

“Better,” the cleric sighed, “He’s getting better but he’ll still need some time to recover. You can sit with him but if I see those fangs of yours anywhere near him—”

Astarion rolled his eyes and folded his arms over his chest. "I assure you, Shadowheart, my intentions are far from what you seem to believe. I would never harm Tav. Surely that much has become clear to you by now?"

The sceptical half-elf hummed, “I suppose he will be safe enough for now. Even if your concern for him was a lie I doubt you’d want to risk sucking up any poison that might still be loitering in his veins.”

He knew she had every right to be distrusting of him, especially when it came to Tav’s safety. He only hoped one day they would all finally see just how much Tav really meant to him. That his feelings weren’t a lie. Until then, he’d have to make do with their concern over their friend and his questionable taste in partners.

“A… Astarion?” His weak voice croaked out the moment the vampire spawn ducked inside the tent.

Tav was laying on the blankets, his body completely sweat-ridden as his face contorted with discomfort. He was in still pain, still so vulnerable.

Astarion was by his side in an instant, his cold hands reaching out to gently touch his lover’s forehead. “Don’t worry, darling, I’m here. I’m right here.”

The cool touch of his hand was welcome as it immediately began to cool Tav’s fever. Gale had already expressed his suspicion that it would do as much. There certainly were at least a few perks of being undead.

“Let’s cool you down, shall we?” He wasted no time removing his shirt before crawling down beside his lover. One strong arm gently wrapped around Tav and pulled him closer, hoping that the coldness of his skin would help ease at least some of the pain.

Tav's laboured breaths finally began to slow as he nestled into the embrace, finding solace in the chill of Astarion's body. His fingers wrapped themselves around the cool arm around him, pulling it closer to his chest.

The vampire spawn chuckled against his ear. “Easy, little love, I’m not going anywhere.” His fingers traced delicate patterns on Tav's forehead, willing the fever to subside.

Outside the tent, Shadowheart kept a close eye on the pair and, in doing so, her initial scepticism gradually gave way to a begrudging acceptance of the vampire's genuine concern. She couldn't deny the tenderness she saw in Astarion's eyes as he cared for their companion. It was a side of him she hadn't seen before. A side of him she hadn’t even known was there.

Maybe it wasn’t just about self preservation or sexual desire. Just maybe he truly did care for Tav. She never thought love was something he was capable of but the longer she watched them, the more she realised just how wrong she had been.

Soon enough, his lover was sound asleep in his arms. Sleeping without a sign of pain or discomfort. It was the first time he’d slept properly since his affliction which meant Shadowheart was right, he was getting better.

“You know, you really scared me for a moment there. I… I thought I was going to lose you. I don’t want to go through that again.”

He spoke despite knowing there was no one to hear him. Speaking to a sleeping lover who, as if on instinct, rolled over to snuggle closer into him.

"I'll protect you with everything I have, my love," Astarion murmured, "I promise you that. You mean more to me than I ever thought possible." He knew that Tav couldn't hear him, but the words were as much for himself as they were for his lover.

Astarion had always been a creature of darkness, bound by instinct and desire. Forced to do his cynical master’s bidding. Yet, in Tav's presence, he had found a glimmer of something different, something more profound. It was a love he never thought he deserved, but now that he had it, he would do anything to defend it.

And so, beneath the starlit sky, Astarion held Tav close, vowing silently to cherish every moment they had together, determined to prove that his love was not just words but a promise to protect and endure, no matter the cost.

[dollarstore-writings]

pulling on loki's luscious locks as you bend him over, pressing kisses and small bites over his adams apple and jaw while you fuck him

(you might be stuck with me and my appalling obsession with loki and dr strange now im so sorry😔)

(i don’t mind, come & stay for a while, love)

loki definitely has a kink for hair pulling!!! and he’d try to deny it soooo much at first and then one night while the both of you are a tangle of limbs and needy whines as your teeth clash in a messy kiss, your hand finds his hair and tugs.

he moans involuntarily and you’d never heard such a sound come from him, it’s not long after that you notice the warmth on your thigh from where he was pressed against you.

“did you just-“ you start, though you cut yourself off when loki leans his head back in embarrassment. “nothin to be embarrassed about, love,” you murmur, chuckling softly against his neck as you pepper kisses down his jaw.

he still refuses to look at you, so you give his hair an experimental tug. and he moans out; a broken sound that reverberated through his chest. you could feel his cock stirring up again.

“let’s see just how much you like having your hair pulled, hm?” you question, finally untangling your hands from his hair and hooking your thumbs in the waistband of his underwear.

[dollarstore-writings]

sub!astarion thoughts?? 👀👀👀

I have so many thoughts. Some of them are a bit dark so be warned, theres a lot of trauma. also spoiler warning for act 3 and Astarions arc!

I truly just believe he's a switch and it just depends on the person he is with, because his sexuality up until the you and Astarion get into a full deep connection was based in fantasy

Astarion as a sexual person probably knows a lot about himself and what he wants but there's still definitely that need to lure and use people, so he needs to fit whatever he perceives as the perfect fantasy for whoever he is sleeping with

Once he finds himself outside of Cazador and in something stable, he would find comfort in being taken care of. Being the little spoon, taking things slow, you being the one to initiate sex, kisses, etc

I think he'd only be comfortable being more dominant again after defeating Cazador and not ascending, finally seeing he can do anything for himself and himself only if he ever wanted to

but he'd much rather do things for the both of you, now. He likes thinking for himself and another with no selfish intentions or threats

in that he'd take more control in the bedroom, but there would be a few breakdowns and needing to stop to unpack some trauma

a lot being that he's safe and here, and no one will leave him, especially you, and needing to pause or stop during intimacy is normal and perfectly ok. He can just get overwhelmed by the ghost of his past victims and his own victiomhood

there's a lot of comfort in living life to protect you, and gratefully and willingly

-

(Consider supporting my ko-fi!)

-

Let me know if you want to be added to the Taglist!

@shyminnie07

[dollarstore-writings]

I don’t know if it’s already been said but istg romancing Astarion as Durge is just giving him scary dog privileges. You should’ve seen me siccing my massive sorcerer Dragonborn on anyone who manages to hit Astarion. Like always in dialogues I’m looking over at him and being like ‘bbg what do you think about this?’

[dollarstore-writings]

astarion who can’t help but take a bite of you when you’re fucking, how can he not? the way you pound into him and the intoxicating smell of your blood send him into frenzies.

so he’ll grab your shoulders and meekly lean forward as you coax him with your sweaty neck. you can feel his fast breath fanning against it as he peppers kisses onto the area he’ll mark. his warm wet tongue giving your neck kitten licks as his nails dig into your shoulders with a hungry need.

“haa..t–thank you,” hed whisper. you wince as you feel the teeth puncture your skin digging into your flesh like a leech. you feel him tighten around you as he moans on your skin, sending vibrations up your spine. you start to feel dizzy and your thrusts become sloppy as you forget how much time passed.

“cu–cumming..! cumming so hard,” astarion cries as he unlatches from you falling back onto the pillow with rolled back eyes and an arched back. the blood sliding down his pale chin and the way his snow white curly hair forms a halo gives him an ethereal look. if it weren't for the cum dribbles from his cunt you'd think he was straight from a fairytale. his pussy squeezes around nothing, so hungry for more yet so full. it's a good thing he has three holes just for that, no?

just started bg3 and I'm hooked bro😭 he my lil twink frfr

[dollarstore-writings]

Thinking about Astarion being pinned beneath your body as he drinks the blood dripping from your mouth into his.

[dollarstore-writings]

"don't mass reblog/like :/" coward. fool. somebody just went through and liked and reblogged 64 things from my blog in the span of half an hour at most. and i've never felt more alive in my life

[dollarstore-writings]

Astarion as an Omega is... sad. (TW)

Omega Astarion who, after turning into a vampire, has never experienced heats. Not only then, but never before either (as elves mature around the age of 100).

Omega Astarion who after years of torture and assaults forgot how to built nests. Who forgot how *safety* smells like, feels like. Who only tries to built one days after he stabbed Cazador. Yet, it feels wrong. His senses don't allow him to relax and properly enjoy it. He, after that terrible punishment of being buried alive for a year, for disobeying Cazador, is terrified of small spaces, so instead tries building them in open rooms. That works. At least partially.

Omega Astarion who after years of sexual abuse is subconsciously hyper aware of Alphas and Betas. Who plays it off as cheeky comments and wry sense of humour, yet his insides are twisting. He feels somehow safe with other Omegas, but still hates being touched by anyone or anything.

He has a long way to heal, but with Tav by his side, he's ready for everything.

[dollarstore-writings]

Enemies to Lovers scenario with Astarion; The two are close enough to be friends, Tav accidentally calls him starlight, you decide how Astarion reacts to their little slip up.

ours are  untidy souls

pairing: astarion/tav wordcount:  1,126 content warnings:  no fighting but the aftermath,  minor mentions of injuries but no-indepth descriptions other tags:canon compliant, canon-typical violence, introspection, character study, hurt/comfort, whump, pre-relationship, gender neutral tav, human!tav archiveofourown: here.

tag list: @azrielshadows1nger, @pandimoostuff, @faevi, @microskies, @foreverthemaraudersera, @queenofthespacesquids, @claryvoyantfray, @6doodlaang14, @anne-isnotokay, @itshimbotime, @yeeteth-the-raven, @sessils,@8-opossums, @worryknotdear, @abirdaboxandachippedcup, be added to the taglist here

summary:

‘It is bitter,’ he says. ‘It will heal,’ you tell him. ‘It might hold a grudge,’ he says. ‘It will survive,’ you insist.

The Grymforge Guardian falls with little regard to its creator. Steam billows from the cool metal, and the Forge has broken pieces off of it that may never be repaired. You sag against the lever for but a moment to catch your breath. You wait for the ground to cool and the red-hot metal to return to a more natural color before tentatively touching your the toe of your boot to it. You decide it's cooled enough.

You race over to the second lever. Shadowheart is quick to make it to the center to check on Karlach who is lying next to the Guardian in a bundled heap, but you race to Astarion’s side and kneel next to him on the smoking platform. He’s resting against the other lever, head forward, and everywhere you touch is bruised and sweaty. You push his curls back from his forehead and cup his jaw so that he’s forced to look at you, and although the flickering of his eyelashes makes your stomach ache, he’s breathing and that’s good enough for you for now.

You push your hand against his shoulder and feel the heat leave his body to meld into yours. Astarion’s lungs fill with air in relief, and when he opens his eyes, he meets your gaze unevenly.

‘Don’t rush, starlight,’ you say cautiously. ‘Take it easy until Shadowheart can come to you.’

Astarion’s eyes soften and he closes them quickly to hide the betrayal. All around him lay the bodies of the imps he fought. Honestly, the team you put together handled it pretty well with little to no practice, navigating as one despite the  strange levers and a gargantuan thing swinging at them. You thank the gods for giving you Karlach, because the thought of you potentially having to go head to head with the Guardian by yourself almost makes you wish the worm would finish eating your memories.

You take in all of Astarion’s wounds. Little bites and nail scratches, a bruise on his cheekbone, but mostly, the heat has made him malleable and exhausted in your hands. You take it upon yourself to heal some of the more minor injuries he has. He doesn’t seem to breathe as you pour a drop of your potion into a bite on his shoulder or a nasty burn on his thigh, but he does stop you before you can take a better look at his cheek.

‘I’m fine,’ he says shortly.

‘Are you sure you don’t want me to tend to this?’ you ask.

You do touch his bruise then, and Astarion hisses at you like a wild beast. Before, you might have flinched away from his scary display but after these last few weeks, you know better. He’s scared of your kindness. He doesn’t know what to expect even though your hand is delicate. You press your thumb against a tender purple knot, and you can tell that it takes all of Astarion’s willpower to not snap at you.

‘Maybe I will let Shadowheart take care of this one,’ you say nervously. ‘It seems tender.’

Astarion’s jaw clenches. He thinks.

‘No,’ he says with finality. ‘I think  —  I think I would prefer it if you did it.’ 

You watch the pretty curve of his neck bobble when he swallows. He turns his chin towards you and refuses to look at you. He’s being brave. He’s being willing. Slowly, you touch the bruise again with shaking fingers.

In a move that reminds you all too much of Scratch and the Owlbear, Astarion leans his head into your touch. You’re captivated by the tremble in his eyelashes, the slope of his eyebrows as he fights a scowl, and the sad way he frowns. You feel his cheek for any sign of the unordinary, but there’s nothing but a bruise.

‘I don’t think a potion will help with this one, unfortunately,’ you whisper. ‘There’s nothing  —  There’s nothing wrong with it.’

‘It is bitter,’ he says.

‘It will heal,’ you tell him.

‘It might hold a grudge,’ he says.

‘It will survive,’ you insist.

Astarion says nothing. If the bruise is hurting him, he doesn’t acknowledge it. All he does is rest in your hands as if lifting his head on his own is too much effort. You allow him this touch. It’s the first time he’s allowed you to initiate anything even remotely affectionate. It makes your eyes water a little to think about it. You decide to say nothing lest it embarrasses him. You cherish this moment and slowly, you ease him into your arms more so that he’s leaning against your upper body, his ear at your heart.

Quietly, Astarion says, ‘Say it again.’

At first, you aren’t sure what it is that he wants. You want to tell him that he will heal, that he will survive, that he may not forgive or forget, but that he will overcome. Instead, you pet his hair as carefully as you can to avoid jostling him and press a tentative kiss to the top of his head. He burrows deeper into your arms and sighs like a weight has been lifted off his chest. In some ways, you think it has. You hold him as gently as you can.

‘You’re going to be fine, starlight,’ you say  —  and you’re partially shocked at how easily it rolls off the tip of your tongue. You’re almost certain that Astarion huffs at it, but he isn’t upset. No, it’s something entirely else.

You’re holding something delicate in your hands. Astarion would not be like this with anyone else but you. He trusts you, and honestly, the thought terrifies you. It’s not that you have to be careful. It’s not that you have to be cognizant. It’s that there is something so genuine about the bond he is offering you on his own terms. He is choosing to be vulnerable with you. It makes your throat close up.

You would cry if you weren’t so worried about everyone. Astarion eventually pulls away from the safety of your arms and appraises you himself. He smudges smoky residue away from underneath one of your eyes and takes a look at a nasty cut you received to your scalp, but all it takes is a little drop of the potion shared between you to get it to where it doesn’t need stitches. You two sit facing one another, your hands meekly in your lap, Astarion sagging forward as though his only desire is to find a bed. Eventually, he looks up at you and with faint exhaustion clouding the openness of his features, and chews on his bottom lip.

‘You can say it again,’ he says.

You smile for the first time in hours. ‘Alright, starlight.’

#astarion

[dollarstore-writings]

HE DIDN'T WANT TO LET GO HE DIDN'T WANT TO LET GO HE DIDN'T WANT TO LET GO!!! -screams-

#astarion