#enver x goneril

[yourworsttotebag]

Got to the coronation scene with my durge and I have a lot of Thoughts

[yourworsttotebag]

Gortash's face when he hears Durge is alive are you kidding me

[yourworsttotebag]

She already had her feet up on the windowsill before Enver could reach out to stop her.

When he tried to grab her arm, Goneril spun and seized his wrist in a crushing grip, still perfectly balanced on the small ledge.

“Alright,” Enver held up his other hand in surrender. “Alright now. Just - wait a moment, would you? You’ve only just come back, don’t leave yet.” He moved as if he might place his hand over hers before seeming to think better of it. “Please.”

Even that small amount of begging from him fell hot and thick onto her skin like dripping candle wax. Goneril released him and pressed her back against the side of the window, halfway between Enver and cool, open air. Tilting either way made her feel the same pull of gravity. 

"I'm sorry,” Goneril shook her head. “That woman you loved didn't come back here. She died. And if you don't stop what you're doing then you’ll die too.”

Enver’s eyes hardened as they swept over her. One shoulder shifted in an approximation of a shrug. "At least maybe I'll be with her then."

(from Equilibrium)

[yourworsttotebag]

Hey besties!! 🤗 I just found the "Prayer for Forgiveness" in my Dark Urge run and I am now in need of what I'm referring to as a "mega straight jacket." It should be completely inescapable, even with another person's help, for my own safety. Thanks in advance!! 💖

[yourworsttotebag]

Equilibrium

Pairing: The Dark Urge/Enver Gortash

Rating: Mature

Word Count: 2.3k

His eyes were almost sympathetic. “Not remembering who you were doesn’t erase it.”

Goneril tilted her head back with a sigh so he wouldn’t see her wince. She didn’t care much for the philosophy around her existence, the nature of her soul and perceptions. What did the weight of her thoughts matter? Or the measure of her being? As far as she was concerned, it was all just red.

----

After the archduke's coronation, Goneril seeks out the man who claims to know her.

[yourworsttotebag]

The woman who applied Goneril’s makeup was stern and silent.

She was the most composed hired hand Goneril had met so far, quietly dusting coral colored powder across her cheeks. She stiffened for a moment when Goneril made eye contact but she didn’t cringe away like some of the others. Her cheeks looked flushed with blood instead of powder.

“You’re finished, miss,” the woman said as she set down her brush. Goneril glanced at herself in the mirror and her eyes passed over the image like she was looking at an illusion. 

When the quiet maid left the room, she passed Enver walking in, already dressed in a fine suit in the style of the Baldur’s Gate nobility. Goneril would have sneered at it if she wasn’t also in costume.

Enver paused when he saw Goneril, his eyes hungry as they raked over her body.

“My beautiful Bhaalspawn.” He walked to stand behind her, their eyes meeting in the mirror. He grinned and Goneril looked away at herself instead. 

She looked elegant and dramatic, her dark hair and dark dress stark beside her pale skin. The dress held her in a way that made her breasts look full and her waist look thin. She struggled to recognize the reflection. Which figure was the fake? The one here or the one she had been before?

(from carnal)

[yourworsttotebag]

carnal

The Dark Urge/Enver Gortash ~1900 words mature

The beef seemed to melt as she chewed it, salt and fat heavy on her tongue. Goneril turned away while she ate so Enver could only see her profile. It was unseemly to be gratified by the flesh of this cow. A dull beast. One that couldn’t even defend against its own slaughter.

Monks live ascetic, disciplined lives. Enver Gortash does not.

[yourworsttotebag]

what rough beast

The Dark Urge/Enver Gortash ~1700 words mature

“I'm sure what's inside of you is all rather mundane,” Enver said. “You’re probably more familiar with it than I am. A mess of wet organs and blood.” “And in my head?” Goneril asked softly. He paused, considering. “Nothing mundane."

[yourworsttotebag]

below

The Dark Urge/Enver Gortash ~700 words explicit

Enver placed his hands on her waistband but she didn't move to help him undress her. She remained sitting still, her hands propped on the bed behind her. “Ask me first,” she said. Enver looked into her dark eyes but she didn’t blink. He laughed uncomfortably. “Pardon?” “Ask me to let you touch me,” Goneril said plainly.

[yourworsttotebag]

Goneril preferring to do everything with her bare hands since she's a monk but quietly replaces her only blade with the Stillmaker after Gortash gifts it to her