#gethin durge

[ltleflrt]

I need to talk about Durge/Astarion, and my fucked up headcanons about them.

WARNING: FUCKED UP.

Ever since I learned that Durge was into necrophilia before his brain got wormed, I haven't been able to stop thinking about that in regards to Astarion. We know that Astarion hides the smell of his dead body under specially created perfumes. What if Durge can smell the death underneath all that? What if one of the things that attracts him to Astarion is the faint scent of death? What if one of the things he likes about having sex with Astarion is his cold body, because it feels like having sex with a corpse?

Anyway, my Durge Gethin said no to daddy Bhaal, but the fact that Astarion is undead is still absolutely a bonus to him.

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They're so pretty in the sunlight.

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I didn't put them in matching armor on purpose! I just haven't gotten around to playing with dyes yet.

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Gethin is regretting that he can't kill Cazador again.

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He's listening to Volo so politely, hands folded behind his back, paying full attention to the information he's getting about his bhaalspawn heritage.

And fucking DRENCHED in fresh blood.

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Sometimes my murder baby is very cute.

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Gethin, aka The Dark Urge.

He doesn't remember, but that dark eye is a replacement after he took a fireball to the face, and his original eye was melted. He wore an eye patch for a while, until he cut out the pretty eye from one of his victims and had it magically grafted in using healing magic.

After he rejects Bhaal, he feels really uncomfortable looking in mirrors, although he doesn't know why. There are no mirrors in the home he shares with Astarion. Neither of them like the reminder that there's something wrong with their reflection.

[ltleflrt]

Bathed in Starlight

Astarion X m!Durge Rated M

“You should have brought a torch,” Gethin scolds lightly as he comes to a stop next to Astarion’s discarded armor and clothing. It’s folded neatly, the armor stacked methodically. Astarion affects an air of carelessness, but he keeps his few belongings tidy and organized. Gethin suspects it’s his way of exerting a modicum of control over his life. “Or stayed closer to camp.” Astarion flashes a fanged smile at Gethin over his shoulder, seemingly unsurprised at his presence. “You know how much I enjoy a nip of danger, darling.” When Gethin’s lips tighten with disapproval, Astarion’s smile droops into a pout and he sighs dramatically. “There was nothing to worry about, was there? Here you are, with enough light for both of us.”

Read on AO3

[ltleflrt]

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