Durgetash - Tumblr Posts
Choice (The Dark Urge x Enver Gortash)
Enver Gortash and Ta'av, the Dark Urge, confront each other while Baldur's Gate sits on the edge of ruin. (Word count: 1.8k)
(Gortash Week 2024, Day 5: Redemption/Ruler)
series: Part 6 of sex and violence, one is just the other
Rating: Mature Relationship Tags: Enver Gortash/The Dark Urge; Enver Gortash/Original Female Character Content Tags: Angst; Betrayal; Spoilers for Quest: The Dark Urge; Spoilers for Act 3; The Dark Urge Resists the Urge; Unhealthy Relationship; Canon-Typical Violence; Implied threats of Violence and Sexual Assault
First, she had destroyed his Iron Throne. Then she had disabled his Steel Watch.
Fury had burned through him and hollowed him out until no emotion remained.
Sunday Snippet
Hello friends! Thank you to the lovely @verbenaa, @khywren, and @xxnashiraxx for tagging me over the last week in WIP posts. I threw all my energy in to Gortash Week, but now that I've finished those pieces, I'm going to try to catch up on tag games and asks! (There, uh, will still be lots of Gortash, though.)
To repeat what I said a week ago: I am working on the third (and final) part of A House, A Home (tumblr version: Parts One and Two). There will be angst, there will be smut, there will be attempts to piece together fragmented memories of angst and smut. I took a break from it this past week, but I'm excited to dive back in.
So here's a snippet:
The memory surfaced unexpectedly. She was laughing in a sunlit room. This room, and this bed, with the sheets rumpled and well-used. Enver was stretched out across them, naked. Beautiful. He was lounging on pillows, ever the spoiled lord, but his arms stretched above his head, bound by a length of black silk that was tied somewhere near the headboard. His jaw was clenched, but he looked at her with a haze of lust and longing in his eyes. She had a dagger in her hand, one of his many gifts, too delicate to be much use in most of her work. But it was perfect for today. She slowly licked the blade and tasted the salt and iron of his blood while he watched every movement of her mouth. “Darling Enver,” she mocked. “Is this worth it, to be able to call me yours? Do you have the pet Bhaalspawn you’ve always desired?”
I honestly don't know when people last posted, so I am going to re-tag @verbenaa, @khywren, and @xxnashiraxx as well as @preciouslittlebhaalbae and @flamemittens! Share your WIPs with the world (if you'd like)!
*chefs kiss* Your work is phenomenal as always 🫂
I may do a wip tomorrow... it's hella sad... does anyone want to cry with me????? 🥹💔
Sunday Snippet
Hello friends! Thank you to the lovely @verbenaa, @khywren, and @xxnashiraxx for tagging me over the last week in WIP posts. I threw all my energy in to Gortash Week, but now that I've finished those pieces, I'm going to try to catch up on tag games and asks! (There, uh, will still be lots of Gortash, though.)
To repeat what I said a week ago: I am working on the third (and final) part of A House, A Home (tumblr version: Parts One and Two). There will be angst, there will be smut, there will be attempts to piece together fragmented memories of angst and smut. I took a break from it this past week, but I'm excited to dive back in.
So here's a snippet:
The memory surfaced unexpectedly. She was laughing in a sunlit room. This room, and this bed, with the sheets rumpled and well-used. Enver was stretched out across them, naked. Beautiful. He was lounging on pillows, ever the spoiled lord, but his arms stretched above his head, bound by a length of black silk that was tied somewhere near the headboard. His jaw was clenched, but he looked at her with a haze of lust and longing in his eyes. She had a dagger in her hand, one of his many gifts, too delicate to be much use in most of her work. But it was perfect for today. She slowly licked the blade and tasted the salt and iron of his blood while he watched every movement of her mouth. “Darling Enver,” she mocked. “Is this worth it, to be able to call me yours? Do you have the pet Bhaalspawn you’ve always desired?”
I honestly don't know when people last posted, so I am going to re-tag @verbenaa, @khywren, and @xxnashiraxx as well as @preciouslittlebhaalbae and @flamemittens! Share your WIPs with the world (if you'd like)!
wip wednesday
haven't done one of these in a while but I am finally able to share some new stuff
tagging @elinorbard (thank your for encouraging me to post today), @flamemittens, @femmeharel, @lamortwrites, and @rowanisawriter if you would like to share anything :) it isn’t wednesday anymore for some of you (it barely is for me) but consider it a WIP whenever
cw for dark urge typical content, though not too graphic in this section
She lingers there and feels the steady drumming of his heart. Isoldt could open her mouth, she could bare her teeth, and bite down, and tear. Through the breastplate and the membrane, through the skin and fat and muscle, she could carve clean to the heart of him. She could see for herself how black and shrunken it must be, how shaped by monstrous barbarity. It would be almost as if she held her own heart in her mouth, as if she finally managed to cough it up. How it would pitter in her hands like a little bird. Or something slier. Enver suddenly straightens, regaining his well-rehearsed composure. “You killed one of my men,” he says, his voice slightly stiff. Isoldt frowns as she recognizes the tenor. Here he is, again, unsettled. It is the first time she has heard the lilt of fear since the early days of their now-fraying partnership. “I did,” she mumbles against him. And did not. “We had an agreement,” he continues. She can feel his gaze burning into her, burrowing through the top of her skull. “An agreement that worked, mind you. Which you have now broken.” Isoldt pulls away enough to glare up at him. “And what would you do about it?” “Do not patronize me.” “Never, never,” she replies, both facetious and venomous in one turn. “I ask sincerely. What will you do? Maim me like one of your experiments? Kill me?” His eyes search for something. “Would you kill me, Enver?” She presses the issue yet again, failing to bite back a smile. He could not manage it, of course, but the thought is enticing enough. An inefficient kill. The antithesis of his grand machinations. “I would not give you such satisfaction.”
WIP Wednesday
Thank you thank you to @khywren, @xxnashiraxx, @inkymoonbunny, @verbenaa, and @aliasknives for tagging me for WIP Wednesday! I am so appreciative of your tags, and I can't believe I have my act together enough to post on Wednesday for once!
Look, I'm going to be honest: it was hard to pick a section to post because most of my WIP right now is smut. A lot of smut. I am vowing to finish A House, A Home this weekend!! I WILL finish the smut, and I'll throw in more emotional damage as a bonus.
Sooo here's a snippet plucked from the smut:
Enver sighed, and his hands stirred. His right hand remained atop her head but shifted so his thumb idly rubbed against her horn while the metal claws on his other fingers could scrape ever-so-lightly against her scalp. His left hand brushed her cheek and then stroked her neck. Ta’av glanced up at him as she moved back and forth. Her tyrant practically itched to seize control by tightening his grip on her horns, her hair, or her throat. But he restrained himself, barely. She might have teased him, in any other circumstances; instead, she took it as a challenge.
Tagging @defira85, @bhaalbabebardlock, @ladyduellist, and @bakuliwrites if you have anything you'd like to share!
A House, A Home (The Dark Urge x Enver Gortash)
Part 3 (of 3) is now up on AO3! (Rating: Explicit. Word count: 8.9k)
series: sex and violence, one is just the other
The memory surfaced unexpectedly. She was laughing in a sunlit room. This room, and this bed, with the sheets rumpled and well-used. Enver was stretched out across them, naked. Beautiful. He was lounging on pillows, ever the spoiled lord, but his arms stretched above his head, bound by a length of black silk that was tied somewhere near the headboard. His jaw was clenched, but he looked at her with a haze of lust and longing in his eyes. Her pale hand held a dagger, one of his many gifts, too delicate to be much use in most of her work. But it was perfect for today. She slowly licked the blade and tasted the salt and iron of his blood while he watched every movement of her mouth. “Darling Enver,” she mocked. “Is this worth it, to be able to call me yours? Do you have the pet Bhaalspawn you’ve always desired?”
WIP Wednesday!
Thank you to the lovely writers who tagged me last week for WIP Wednesday/Snippet Sunday: @verbenaa, @khywren, and @xxnashiraxx!
Last week I was finishing up the angst, but now I'm shifting my focus back to my Durgetash political AU, Deadly Ambition. Chapter 4, let's go!
I have good news and bad news, and both are that the worst (fictional) people you know in (fictional) American politics are hooking up.
“You’re starting to bore me, Enver,” she said, and his eyes slid back to her face. She moved to sit in the middle of the king-sized bed, stretching her legs out in front of her and tossing her dark hair over her shoulder. “If you take much longer, I might have to call one of my – what did you call them? Lovesick puppies?” He narrowed his eyes and pulled his tie off his neck with a snap before picking up where she left off unbuttoning his shirt. “Most of them are back in D.C., of course, but that’s nothing that a few text messages couldn’t fix,” she continued. “Or maybe Minthara’s free. What do you think?” “How funny you are,” he said darkly, pulling his shirt off of his arms and dropping it on the floor. His undershirt soon joined it. “Or maybe not.” Her eyes swept up and down his chest and stomach as he reached for his belt. He studied her while he shed his socks, shoes, and pants. “How long did it take you to get everyone on this campaign wrapped around your finger, hmm?” She smiled slowly. “We launched the campaign over a year ago.” Enver slid onto the bed and she eyed him with interest. He moved forward until he loomed over her and caged her in with his arms. “For you, Enver, it’s taken… what, four weeks?” She grinned up at him and then placed on hand on the back of his head to pull him towards her.
Forgive me if you've already been tagged or posted, but I'm tagging @verbenaa, @flamemittens, @aliasknives, and @defira85!!
I am absolutely delighted to share this wonderful art I commissioned from Walker (also on twitter)! Walker made the process incredibly easy, gave me lots of progress updates, and completed it so quickly.
Look at my semi-feral Durge and her twisted tyrant! LOOK AT THEM. I'm obsessed.
You can read about Ta'av and Gortash in their series on AO3. 🥰
A House, A Home (f!Dark Urge x Gortash)
After returning from the House of Hope, Ta'av, the Dark Urge, seeks out Enver Gortash to tell him what she learned and lets him draw her back into the mystery of their shared past. (Rating: Explicit. Chapters: 3/3; Total word count: 21k.)
series: Part 5 of sex and violence, one is just the other | art by Walker
She wondered how many times she had walked there, wherever it was. A house, most likely, and she had thought an important Lord would reside in the Upper City, but her instincts steered her away from those gates. When she entered the Bloomridge neighborhood, she felt the same kind of familiarity that she experienced throughout the city: she knew all of Baldur’s Gate, but only in the way one knows something in a dream. She felt in her heart that the city was home, even while the specifics of streets and buildings and parks always looked different than she expected. But when she finally stood in front of the townhouse, its address matching the note in her hand, she felt it with complete clarity. Home.
Sunday Snippet!
Thank you to the lovely people who have tagged me in snippets/WIPs lately: @verbenaa, @xxnashiraxx, and @ladyduellist. Apologies if anyone else has tagged me and I missed it! I just got back from vacation and may have missed a bunch of things.
So... Bhaal-induced sex pollen/breeding kink, anyone? This concept sunk its claws into me, even though this was not at all what I planned to write next. So here's some Ta'av/Enver (AO3 series here), pre-tadpole (!), circa 1490 DR, Bhaal-induced sex pollen/breeding kink.
She focused on him and inhaled deeply, straightening her spine. His own gaze darkened as he looked at her. She was his ally, his partner, his lover. His fellow Chosen, his Bhaalspawn. His. Still, Enver watched warily as she moved towards him. He took one look at her eyes and clicked his tongue in a scolding manner. Her golden irises were nearly eclipsed by the dark expanse of her pupils. "Ta'av, darling," he began with an edge to his voice, "what could possibly be so urgent as to interrupt my work? If you need to kill, the entire city is at your feet." “I don’t need to kill.” The tiefling stepped up to him, her attention falling to his lips, then his neck, then his chest, and she seized the lapel of his shirt. Finally, her eyes swept upwards to meet his. “I need you.” “As delighted as I am to hear it, I am busy,” he said flatly. He folded the edges of her cloak back and over her shoulders, intent on preventing his clothes from getting wet. She wore a dark purple robe over her typical black leather armor, and he frowned momentarily; she rarely wore her clergy robes outside of the temple. “Now, be a dear, and go kill something,” he added. "No,” Ta’av said vehemently. "I need you, now." She pressed herself against him and rolled her hips into his for emphasis. One of her hands flattened against his chest, and her touch was hot against his skin. Her other hand drifted down to tug impatiently at the top of his trousers. Enver raised his eyebrows, regarding her coolly even as heat rushed to his groin. The way she licked her lips and bucked against him made the prospect tempting. Still, the essential tasks and moving pieces of their great plan were ever multiplying. He needed to maintain an iron grip on each and every variable. No variable was as unpredictable or vexing as the enchanting creature currently writhing against him. "You'll have to wait your turn, my dear. I'm afraid your desires cannot take precedence today." He felt her nimble fingers beginning to undo the laces of his trousers, and he caught her wrist. With a sardonic smile, he maneuvered her hand to rest against the apex of her legs, his larger hand pressing hers into her leather leggings. "I have the utmost faith in your ability to entertain yourself." Ta’av was shaking her head before he finished speaking. "No. No. That's not enough; it has to be you," she insisted. She managed to slip her hand out of his grasp, and Enver inhaled sharply as she grinded down against his hand.
Throwing it back to @verbenaa, @xxnashiraxx, and @ladyduellist because it's been a while since I was tagged, and also @defira85, @bakuliwrites, and @aliasknives if you want to play! xoxo
A Little Prayer (f!Dark Urge/Enver Gortash)
Enver Gortash's work is interrupted when Ta'av, the Dark Urge, seeks out his help with a new kind of uncontrollable urge. (Rating: Explicit. Word count: 5.8k)
series: sex and violence, one is just the other
“You'll have to wait your turn, my dear. I'm afraid your desires cannot take precedence today.” He felt her nimble fingers beginning to undo the laces of his trousers, and he caught her wrist. With a sardonic smile, he maneuvered her hand to rest against the apex of her legs, his larger hand pressing hers into her leather leggings. “I have the utmost faith in your ability to entertain yourself.” Ta’av was shaking her head before he finished speaking. “No. No. That's not enough; it has to be you,” she insisted. She managed to slip her hand out of his grasp, and Enver inhaled sharply as she grinded down against his hand. She looked at him with an expression of pure want and frustration that made his pulse quicken.
Deadly Ambition (a Dark Urge x Enver Gortash AU)
U.S. Congressman Enver Gortash eagerly accepts the opportunity Governor Richard Bhaal’s presidential campaign as his vice presidential running-mate. In the process, he discovers the true mastermind behind the Bhaal campaign: Bhaal's daughter, Elegy, who is as ruthless as she is charming. Together, Enver and Elegy forge a partnership and plot their path to power. They will do anything it takes to win the election… but will their web of deals and deception fall apart when they find themselves relentlessly drawn to each other?
Chapter 5: National Conventions (Rating: Explicit; Word count: 6k)
While Astarion looked back at the TV, Elegy gained a faraway look in her eye. It was an expression that Enver recognized by now: she was piecing together a plan, most likely something that was wonderfully vicious. “Plotting something?” he murmured. She blinked and refocused on him. “Maybe. For whenever these damn conventions are over.” On the screen, the Stelmane and Ravengard families continued to smile and wave as confetti and balloons rained down on them.
Drowning Lessons by MCR is such a Durgetash song to me. Like yaaas. Kill 1000 people to prove your love.
Larian said give something to the duregtashers, as a treat. Can someone tell me what this looks like in the game?
Even more worms in my brain
Okay so I'm writing my pre-game durgetash fic and I think I'm going to title it To The End. That song really encompasses the vibes they have going on in my head. Mania, my Dark Urge, and Gortash were married either for political reputation or for mutual obsession. I remember in the "Forgive me Father" letter Mania says that Gortash will be the last one she kills at the end of the world. And I do believe in the temple of Bhaal there is a letter that says the bhaalists treat marriage like a suicide pact. That's crazy.
Also in my head-canon shortly after this peak in their relationship and shortly before Orin's assassination attempt Mania goes crazy, AKA her own mind already trying to break from the urges. She makes the Oath of Vengeance/Redemption. It's literally "say goodbye to the life you made" and "walk away from the choice you made". She doesn't fight back Orin to her whole strength but her last thoughts are still heart broken.
Yeah yeah, all the events of the game happen. But eventually, Mania does end up "allying" with Gortash. She's in a close relationship with Astarion at this point but that doesn't stop her body and mind from having intoxicating reactions to "my favorite assassin" and "my nearest and dearest" and other nobles at Wyrm's Rock confirming the nature of their relationship.
If the earlier paragraph didn't make it clear Mania obviously resisted Bhaal and her urges. Her convictions to end the absolute are higher than ever. But she holds onto Gortash still the very end. She walks down the morphic pool in silence while Gortash speaks praises of their combined power and the companions waiting on her signal. At the very first brain quake, knowing this is the end. She smites him. It's over in 3 turns (haha I was playing on explorer mode).
"If you marry me Would you bury me? Would you carry me to the end?"
Besides the brain itself, he was her last kill as it was always intended to be.
So there's To The End, which was what the whole post was about. I didn't want to go line for line in explaining, this was more interesting, it but I could've. I made a non-serious post that Drowning Lessons reminded me of them too. But I think there's a lot of My Chemical Romance songs that I relate to this relationship. Probably because I've been listening to them since I was a kid. Its gonna take me forever to write this fic because I keep thinking of stuff lol.
You said it perfectly and beautifully
you want to fuck him i want to consume him i want to live inside his skin like a beast in the walls of his house i want to be his birth and his death and his beginning and his end and his undoing and his armageddon and his divine creator i want to eat him whole i want him to love me love me love me love me as the worshippers love the temple and as the temple loves the lamb and as the lamb loves the knife i want to be his vampire i want to be his life i want him to tear me apart i want to create worlds out of him and destroy them and destroy him and have him wake up in the morning next to me i want to call him pretty i want to brush his hair i want to crack him up i want to choke him i want to make him bleed i want to kiss the blood from his skin i want him buried deep inside the wound of my desire i want him to be my best friend i want him to loathe me i want to fight him to the death i want to be his favourite girl his favourite villain i want to be his worst fear i want my fingers in his mouth i want my mouth on his jugular i want to be the only thing inbetween him and death eternal i want my teeth in him i want i want i want i want
Little ship chart I did for my durgetash. Credits for the templete are at the bottom. All I do is think about them so it was fun to write it all down. I had fun doing the drawings.
"omg my favourite assassin i've missed yo--"
Make sure your babygurl get enough kisses before he got busy contemplating the minutia of death cult office politics.
