#soft durgetash

[not-creaits]

nap

[bhaaldursgays]

had a few thoughts about Gortash courting Clira but he's not courting her he's furthering their plans

he makes sure she always has a place to hide in his home and his workshops, just because it's convenient you understand. Sure, she says she'll do fine with a hammock in a corner and a waterbasin but he makes sure she has a soft bed, crisp linen and a bath with a heater.

And they should have dinner, once or twice a week. No alliance lasts when weakened, it's only good habit, no he doesn't do it with his other allies why do you ask?

And of course, inviting her as his plus one is just to make it easier for her to get used to the life they'll lead once they're rulers, it's called thinking ahead.

And of course, when he sees a piece of jewelry that will look good on her he makes a big deal about buying it at the jewelers, to fuel the gossip of course. Lord Enver Gortash? Buying romantic gifts? The various patriars vying for his attention will smell blood in the water and be ready to throw anything at his feet to become the new favourite, it's called manipulation my dearest bhaalspawn now sit still so I can put the damn necklace on you

[therookandthecrow]

I wanted to share some more soft/affectionate headcanons of my primary Dark Urge Rhyleth and Enver.

When Enver's joints are inflamed and when he is having pain flare ups in general, Rhyleth helps to tie up his shirt's ties for him. While even as a highly leveled Cleric, he can't take his pain away, he does his best to help Enver manage it.

A part of this reasoning is Enver's pride, his not wanting to accept his help with it as he's accepted his chronic pain as a part of who he is. The last thing that he wanted from anyone, let alone his partner-in-crime was pity.

It was one of the things that he missed while Rhyleth was missing and thought to be dead.

I like to headcanon that Rhyleth had gifted him the cain that he uses early in their relationship with one another, and that he even commissioned it to fit Enver's aesthetic. The one that he had before was the one that he'd been using since he lived in the House of Hope. He enver liked the look of the one that he had before, but he didn't see the practicality of replacing it when it worked fine. That was before his Banite aesthetics hoe™ era.

He never expected such a tender albeit practical gift from the infamous assassin, but secretly, Enver was touched that the Drow Bhaalspawn put so much thought into him, regardless of how messed up the dynamic of their relationship was at the time. He loved the danger and the intrigue of it all, but he savored those tender moments that were offered to him because he never got that at home or in the House of Hope.

With all of that said, post-game (but starting pre-epilogue party) he is a very attentive partner who makes sure that Enver is well taken care of. Enver finally gets over his pride in that respect and he allows Rhyleth to pamper him. The Archduke would only admit to himself that his heart would swell with joy when the Drow would draw a hot, fancy bath for him after a long day and an aching back and joints in general.

This is especially because he knows that the Drow's intentions are from love, something that he had a hard time accepting for a long while and that there was nothing transactional about it at the slightest. Rhyleth genuinely cares for Enver and his primary love-language is acts of service along with giving people practical gifts.

Practical is what Enver had tried to convince himself of, but as it turns out there was far more sentimentality left in his heart than he previously thought. The changes that Rhyleth had gone through at the temple where he'd rejected Bhaal were not just only welcome to Enver, but in fact they were just what he'd needed all along from a lover.

Enver's pregnancy post-game was tougher on him than either of them thought that it would be, and he hated to have to be reliant on Rhyleth for so much. There were many nights, especially in the third trimester that he had to take sleep potions along with another potion for his pain in order to sleep well at night.

The last month, especially, before their first son's birth, Enver was constantly miserable; so much that he was genuinely surprised that Rhyleth stayed with him. Rhyleth however, remained at his side as loyal as a soldier and more affectionate to him than anyone else had been.

[asteria49]

Chapter 1: A Sight for Sore Eyes Pairing: Named Dark Urge/Enver Gortash Notes: This is a soft Durgetash fic. There are some important CWs for this fic. Please read the tags.

Preview

“Esteemed friends and patriars of this fine city,” Gortash addressed the court for the first time as archduke, though his gaze never left Lithariya, “I do not take this appointment, nor your trust in me, lightly. The Steel Watch stands at the ready to defend this great city and her interests. Let any who wish to diminish us know the taste of iron and blood. And let all who would see us thrive know the bountiful fruits that come when you stand by my side.”  The crowd murmured their appeasement, heads nodding, delicate, ringed fingers clapping, but Gortash did not care about their reactions. He was watching her, gauging her reaction, modifying formulas and performing calculations based upon the angle of her lips, the creases in her forehead, and the arch of her brows.  “Meet me in my office after the ceremony,” he whispered as he passed her, his gilded hand brushing against hers.  Her stomach twisted into a knot as her fingers involuntarily craned to meet his, skimming along the harsh, cold metal until they found the familiar heat of his skin, desperate for even the most modest offering.  His eyes widened by just a fraction before his lips curled into a sensuous smile. “Alone,” he added. “We have much to discuss.”   Lithariya’s breath lodged in her throat. Her fingertips tingled with anticipation. Her body had betrayed her a hundred times over and she knew it would do so a thousand times more. She could not deny the connection she felt with him– a thread tugging at her ring finger and winding around their bodies, pulling them closer until they would, at last, be flush against one another. 

[valtianan]

"i think we deserve a soft epilogue."

queen bee honey flower (queenie) belongs to @mermianar

[doraingrid]

Cozy Saturday Some days I just don't have the energy to put a lot of effort into art so I'll trace a pose to draw comfort babes. Today is one of those days ✌️

[forgotten-realm5]

“For what it’s worth, I think I always liked you, too”

[fourraccoonsinacoat]

*At their weekly triforce of evil board meeting.*

Ketheric: Araj has some new elixirs she's experimenting with and is asking for a gnoll to test them on.

Durge: No.

Ketheric: What?

Durge: Let me elaborate; tell bitchtits to get fucked.

Gortash: *Snorts*

Ketheric: You have twelve of them! Surely you can spare one?

Durge: "Get fucked. Love, Durge." Write that down and send it to her.

Ketheric: Gods below! I'll go send one of the gnolls, myself!

Gortash: I wouldn't recommend doing that.

Ketheric: Why?

Durge: Because then I'd have twelve gnolls and a dead body.

Gortash: Technically, he's already-

Durge: NOBODY ASKED YOU, ENVER!

- - - -

BG3 Incorrect Quotes Masterlist.

[truly-sincerely]

Since everyone in the durgetash community is declaring their durgetash preferences, here's mine:

Neither soft, romantic durgetash nor toxic, disgusting durgetash are nuanced enough. I am here for the pathos of being simultaneously completely fucking broken and utterly devoted to another person.

What's it called when you're too depressed to put peanut butter on a spoon for yourself, but you'll cook a three course meal for your beloved because you heard their stomach growl?

Durgetash is gift of the magi but the gifts are making things worse and the cost is retraumatizing themselves over and over

For me, the only way this ends is with both of them dead or both of them alive because neither of them can go on without the other one.

Thank you for coming to my TEDtalk

[bastardwerewolf]

Worship

[flymmsy]

[eye-of-yelough]

the thing about saying i prefer toxic durgetash over healthy durgetash is that even that can get lost in translation because the word toxic has been watered down to a joke nowadays. i say i like toxic durgetash and someone will run over and agree like “me too i looove how toxic they are!! gort tries to manipulate my durge but they just laugh and stab him and then they kiss 🤪”

yeah thats fun but that’s just normal durgetash activities. that’s our definition of toxic, as normal people who weren’t raised in cults and literal hell.

i think i just want more people to embrace the potential for abuse with these two horrible horrible characters specifically. a more clear cut power imbalance. a durge who’s straight up terrified of gortash, or a durge who feels strangely comfortable and trusting toward him, which gortash uses to manipulate them into betraying/killing their companions and enforcing his will in the city.

and the vice versa, a durge who abuses gortash, is interesting too, but a lot harder while keeping gortash in character. maybe impossible. it just goes back to my inability to see gortash as someone who’s capable of genuine, selfless love, and a person has to be extraordinary to be seen as a equal (and even then, they’re not getting treated like one.) he’s a master manipulator! durge/tav has to have inhuman level of willpower/fortitude to survive any kind of relationship with this man unscathed. if they are stronger than him, he will find a way to weaken them, if they are smarter, (doubtful) he will find a way to break their brain.

and again, most durgetash shippers agree with this. they agree that gortash’s aim, at the beginning, was to subdue durge and mould them into his perfect sentient weapon. “but then after a while he realised he met his match/caught feelings” … with all due respect. i don’t think his brain works that way. this man is not capable of giving up. this is not a man who lets his emotions get in the way. this is not a man who lets anything get in the way.

[therookandthecrow]

Rhyleth worships every single inch of Enver Gortash- his crow's feet, his pock-marks, his chubby belly, his burly arms, his smile lines, his scars, his round, plump butt, his hairy chest and hairy butt. Especially after he rejects Bhaal he becomes a more gentle lover. There had always been thorns and claws attached to the way in which the Drow had touched him before.

I think that they had some gentle, soft moments before, but their dynamic is definitely healthier. Whatever it was that precisely happened at the temple after Rhyleth came back from the dead, Enver almost missed the old Rhyleth. Yet the newfound tenderness that his lover had offered to him was something that the tyrant had desperately missed. Maybe he'd grow to like the softer touch.

There had always been a highly sexual element to their relationship, and at first it was based around sex. The attraction had been immediate and brutally carnal. As a Banite, Enver had been used to a touch of pain from a partner. There was something utterly enthralling about the Drow assassin born from the essence of Bhaal himself.

He'd always admired the cruelty of his mind and how he turned it into an art. Unlike Orin, Rhyleth's artful cruelty always had a purpose to it. He didn't even mind it when the Drow held a blade to his throat as he thrust into him on top of a blood-stained altar. Enver hungered for the feeling of the other man's teeth bearing into his flesh.

But, a gentler Rhyleth? He could get used to that. The part of him that he'd suppressed and set aside after being denied love in his childhood, he could see himself accepting tenderness and affection.

[asteria49]

Chapter 3: Nevermore Pairing: Named Dark Urge/Enver Gortash Notes: This chapter has important CWs; please read tags and ch summaries

Preview

Gortash scowled as he gritted his teeth. That familiar, all-consuming rage ignited in his chest, heating the simmering pit of tar in his heart to a rolling boil. He was always at the mercy of someone with more power than he.  Not for long, he promised himself. Soon Faerûn would be at his and Lithariya’s mercy and he was not feeling particularly magnanimous.  Gortash rolled up his sleeves then set himself to soaking the cloths in the icy water.  He fantasized what he might do once he and Lithariya had garnered enough power to challenge the Dead Three. He imagined what he might say to Bane when, at last, the Lord of Tyranny was brought to his knees. He imagined what Lithariya might say to Bhaal when she finally severed the strings that bound her to him. He imagined their gods groveling at their feet, begging for leniency, weaving a flimsy tapestry of manipulation in a last effort to retain control. He imagined those machinations falling upon unsympathetic ears. And he imagined what he and Lithariya might finally do, what they might accomplish, hand-in-hand, as equals, as gods.    It was these tyrannical thoughts that comforted him as he tended to Lithariya, wringing the excess water from the chilled cloths before gently laying them across her forehead, her neck, her chest.  Another hour had passed before Lithariya’s head lolled to the side and her eyelashes fluttered.  Gortash perked up from his slouch at her side. “Lithariya?” Her name still felt like a prayer on his tongue, like reciting his own private supplication as part of a forbidden religion.

[julls]

plans are being made (he's asking her what haircare she's using)

[doraingrid]

Tender 🩷💜

.

The whole thing might be too much for tumblr, so you can once again find it on the blue bird site (@ doraingrid_) mwa