#i love durgetash so much i can’t stop thinking about it

[cygnus7]

I like to think that pre-tadpole Durge and Gortash done really evil, yet really goofy shit. Like I mean Megamind level shenanigans. And Ketheric would be highly unimpresed and just have to endure (and most likely clean up after) whatever they were both doing

#this is canon because i said so #and i’m right #Durge and Gortash would be like perform megamind-like atrocities #and they’d giggle about it together afterwards #i love durgetash so much i can’t stop thinking about it #durgetash #enver gortash #lord enver gortash #gortash x durge #ketheric thorm #gortash #baldur's gate 3 #bg3

[transgortash]

i LOVE being enabled to write about gortash tiddies. thank you & amen. uncharacteristically for a durgetash drabble, there isn't anything major that needs a warning!

(tagging @volotramp <3)

Gortash has been getting ready for ‘only’ the past hour or so. There’s perfuming, teasing out his hair, swiping on his eyeshadow with a thumb, putting on his gauntlets and rings, and getting dressed. He’s just at that last step, starting to think his wonderful Dark Urge is really too preoccupied with sharpening his knives to notice the daily creation of an Archduke’s display. He’s looking in his full-length mirror as he fiddles with the ties on his shirt, adjusting so that they’ll look perfectly and unintentionally loose. That’s when his companion deigns to join him, easily more than a head taller than him, filling out the length of the mirror. His draconic form making his presence quite imposing - just how Gortash likes his partners.

His darling Bhaalspawn could’ve worshipped him in celestial and he would’ve still paid more attention to his actions. No time wasted on soft, introductory touches - hands on his waist, slides up to his chest.

Gortash says, “Pleasing to know my effort is appreciated,” even though he doesn’t need a pair of hands on his tits to know he looks good.

The Urge just huffs, snout near his shoulder, and squeezes. His talons dig a little into his skin, leaving potential pinprick holes through his shirt. Gortash makes a noise that’s supposed to be an accusatory hum, but it comes out a little too pleasured to be so playful. He intends to silently enjoy this passing groping, before Durge squeezes one of his tits, hard, and he thinks it won’t be passing so soon.

He also thinks, ah, fuck, that’s kind of hot.

“Do you intend to fondle me into being late for my duties?” he accuses, eyebrow arched, glaring most interestedly into the mirror.

The response is yes, but for the second time, Gortash is more focused on the ministrations of those scaled hands.

He continues until Gortash's nipples stiffen, just visible through his shirt. Durge lightly scores a talon over one, and Gortash hisses ever so softly. His eyes have been mostly on his own reflection, the growing blush across his neck and chest, but for a second, he looks into Durge's mirrored red eyes, and poses a challenge there.

He stops.

It's unexpected and a little embarrassing but Gortash sags against durge's broad chest - must've leaned back into him at some point. He's flushed and the expert arrangement of his shirt & coat are dishevelled. The mirror has never had a better sight to behold.

"You can go now." Durge says mildly, even though his big hands are on Gortash's hips, and he's not moving to step away.

"You are a beast of a manner most foul," Gortash says, as wry as he can when he's keenly aware of the solution to this.

Durge simply eyes him in the mirror.

“My dearest darling, would you do me the kindness of placing those mighty claws back upon my tits?” he relents, with a snide sort of coquettishness, “i just can’t do without them.”

There’s another huff from the other man that might be an approximation of a laugh, or just a sound of approval. His hands slide up Gortash's front again and add another few wrinkles to the fabric – but it's somewhat difficult to be irritated when those hands are back on his chest.

He starts practically playing with his tits, holding them and letting them drop to feel the weight, squeezing them roughly together, seemingly uncaring over how much his talons are digging into Gortash's skin. Not that Gortash cares either.

He sags a little further against durge, lets out a quiet noise; both things he'd pretend were entirely voluntary.

Hr's still watching his reflection in the mirror as he gets groped, with an intensity he could be called vainglorious for. And if his favourite little killer knows anything about him, he'll accuse him of just that.

#my writings #roachified wife #requests #nsft

[cygnus7]

I wake up

I think about durgetash

I go to sleep and repeat

#it is what it is #and i love it #I love durgetash so much I can’t stop thinking about it #it plagues my mind all day every day #baldur's gate 3 #bg3 #durgetash #gortash x durge #enver gortash