#but the urge to piss

[omocatboy]

the urge to just piss myself right where i’m laying on the floor vs. not wanting to deal with the cleanup after

[oliverr-gardenn]

friendly reminder that being around bhaalspawn triggers fight or flight so everyone at camp probably felt like they were on the verge of an anxiety attack whenever durge was around and they had no idea why

[robo-beasty]

Two brooos, chillin in a saunaaaa~

Print!!/Shop

[temeyes]

10min valeria cuz i suddenly remembered her

[ravenpureforever]

I regret to inform you all that Deadpool & Wolverine is actually very good and just gay as everyone says

[aureliaen]

Not to be a durgetash stan on main, but I find it really funny the way Gortash, in his 3 minutes of screentime, shows more understanding of Durge and their urges, and more respect towards Durge's divine lineage than your companions, and LI especially, do the entire game.

[spiremassk]

idc if the horns n chin spike are messed up or anything im too tired to fix it. first time doing a turn around in like 8 million years and I was doing it in the the california summer without air conditioning. ill probs redo it later

[wild-magic-oops]

Galemancing!Durge accidentally thinking aloud "huh, I have a type" after meeting Gortash, right in earshot of Gale, and then having the mother of all struggles trying to explain without digging himself an even deeper hole

[daemon-in-my-head]

Durgetash asks - Death Cult Office Politics edition

Which minutia did Gortash really contemplate so fervently that he found no more time for Durge? Was it just a front for the spring wedding planning to resume? It was the spring wedding wasn't it?

Their favourite kinda kiss. Did it ever happen? Was it geniun? Was it just a habit? What was it like in general? Don't spare any details.

Has there ever been a point in time where Durge rejected Gort's advances to ponder the finer details of their holy omnicide plans?

What is Gortash's favourite office politic to ponder? Is it related to HR?

Of course kissing is out of question when ur pondering the minutia of death cult office politics, lest you need a pen and paper to quickly jot down the brilliant idea you just had. So what did the deranged tyrant and his fanatic serial killer do exactly when one of them was hunched over a piece of parchment?

When did Durge start calling Gortash babygurl? How advanced was their rs at that point already?

What does Gortash call Durge? Bebe, kitten, bae, cutie patootie, smth else entirely?

What's their relationships with their followers like? Lax, strict, idol and their stans or more scary boss u seek to avoid? What's the vibe in the office?

If they had phones, how would they save each other's number? (Let's just play pretend Gort wrote the same on the scrapbooks cover and the sending spell is sms or smth)

Do they schedule their meetings or are their spontaneous like that? Is Gort keeping a planner with all the dates marked in red when he can finally find some spare time to smooch the divine?

Ask prev when u reblog, be nice, this isn't strictly romantic, bla bla bla yk what I usually put here. Basically, have fun, go wild, save a fading fandom or smth is what I'd say usually but unfortunately Larian now I'm intrigued whatever those death cult office politics are.

[pretty4lifeee]

[thehistoriccemetery]

Minthara’s New Dialogue

I’m pissed about Minthara’s new dialogue when Durge chooses to deny Bhaal, and I’m making it everyone problem.

Anyway, here’s Wonderwall.

———————————————————

Minthara stood outside the door to Durge’s new room at the Elfsong Tavern. Up until that night, they’d been sharing the room that now belonged only to Minthara.

It was late, but she’d found herself completely unable to relax. She didn’t sleep, but even her attempts to trance were only filled with regret of what had happened the previous day. Durge, lying dead on an alter of Bhaal before her. The rage that clawed its way up her throat. The way that rage shot out of her when Durge’s body had come back to life.

Her words had been cruel; hypocritical, even. But even that did not explain the regret and remorse that plagued her now. She didn’t know why, but it possessed her entire being. She was able to think of nothing else but that moment, played over and over in her mind.

She had never been one to hand out apologies. Even when she knew she was in the wrong she never sought to “make it right”. Why should she care if someone was pissed with her? Everyone in her life had been disposable. Everyone except Durge.

That is why, she supposed, she had come in the dead of night to darken her former lover’s doorstep.

She lightly tapped the door with two knuckles before cracking it open to checking to see if Durge was still awake.

They were, as she suspected they would be. Sleep was a rarity for them even on the best of days. Minthara stepped into the room without awaiting further invitation.

“What do you want? Have you come to berate me further?” The words came like a spit of acid. “Perhaps you have come to cull the weakest soldier from your ranks. Well I think I’ve had quite enough of your commentary for one day. Leave me.”

Minthara stood, rigid and unmoving. She has expected nothing short of fury from Durge, and yet she was still taken off guard.

“I have come to offer an apology,” she swallowed. “My behavior today was unacceptable, regardless of the circumstances and for that I apologize.”

Durge laughed. “When Scratch gets into the camp supplies and eats all the salami, it is ‘unacceptable behavior.’ What you have done to today is nothing short of monstrous.”

Minthara shifted slightly. She didn’t have a response prepared.

Durge broke the silence. “I thought you, of all people would understand. A deserter of both the spider queen and the absolute who found her power in godlessness. A lost child of House Baenre, the most powerful house in the underdark. And yet you see fit to lecture me about inheritance and power that I failed to collect at the cost of my own freedom. I thought maybe after all the nights you spent with me, sobbing against my urge to spill your blood you might understand why I must be rid of him. But I see now you’d rather have me a powerful slave than as I am.”

The room was silent again. Durge did not look at her, settling instead for continuing to arrange the room that would now belong to them alone.

“You know, perhaps if it had just been an unjustified outburst, I could have forgiven you. I could have looked past the hypocrisy, the accusations that defying my father made weak and unworthy,” they spoke again. “Perhaps if you had only called me stupid and weak, we could be allies once more. But you couldn’t stop there, could you? You couldn’t just insult what you perceived to be a lack of power, you had to make me feel used. As if this entire relationship was purely a tactical ruse.”

Minthara’s mouth worked faster than her mind. Before she could even think it through she blurted, “even now you cannot deny what a powerful force we were together.”

The words made Tav snap their head around to look Minthara in the eyes. “Don’t you dare try and dismiss my feelings with talk of strategy. I will not deny I was that I was drawn to you for the same reason you were drawn to me: because I thought you a powerful ally. But I do not share my bed with people just because they are ‘powerful allies.’ I do not learn about their favorite dishes and go out of my way to gather rare ingredients. I do not black out my own windows just so our home can be an oasis of darkness in this all too bright world. I do not rub their back and whisper sweet words to them as I hold them through nightmares. And I sure as hell don’t risk my own life in 1 on 1 duels with my own sister just for the sliver of hope that they could walk through this world a little less scared!” Durge’s eyes brimmed with tears and their bottom lip quivered. “You were so much more than a ‘powerful ally’ to me, Minthara. I did not love you because you were a matron of house Baenre. I did not love you because you were on the council of the dead three. I did not love you for the power I sought to gain from you. I loved you because you were my Minthara. My love for you may not have been a force that would save the world, but it did not make it less real or important. Power is not the only thing worth having. I would have gladly died by your side if it meant I could do so knowing that you loved me as I have loved you. If death was the only place we could be together, my dedication to you would not have faltered.”

Minthara stood in shock. She couldn’t not bring herself to move for fear that she may collapse onto the floor in a pathetic pile of tears.

“You will go to bed alone tonight, the bed we once shared, and you will sleep by yourself. And when you long for the comforts of home, you will not wake to find arrangements of mushrooms at your bedside. When forgotten moments of the past creep into your mind, and you reach for someone to hold you, you will find nothing but empty air. You will be alone and you will find it is not my ‘power’ that you truly miss.”

[bizlybebo]

// blood !!! //

-

remembered women exist

[russeliarat]

Hello Magnus Archives fans, some Distortion designs for you

Without the heavy shadows version under cut

[animentality]

Gortash (flirting): soooo...what would you do to me if I was there?

Dark Urge without hesitation: I would snap your bones and pull out your heart and choke on your innards.

Gortash *twirling his hair and giggling: and then what?

Ketheric: get off the fucking conference line.

[fearandhatred]

C by fearandhatred (6k words, 1/1 chapters)

Crowley's time with Jesus dredges up an old wooden box of memories 3000 years past—a flood, a reckoning, and lives lost. And in the box are two other things, one of which is a braided lock of her own hair, straw-like from dried-up rainwater, and hacked off violently and unevenly at the edges.

*don cheadle voice* boom, you looking for this?

it is finally here... the mesopotamia–golgotha fic! this is intended as a sequel to my golgotha fic, via dolorosa. also if you see the very tiny stitches of colour on his clothes and on the C in this drawing... they're surprise tools that will help us later :)

please go check out the wonderful art my beloved @knifeforkspooncup made for me!! i have probably racked up five hours of screen time just looking at it if we're being honest here. thank you loml <3

also this idea came my way because of this post and the lovely (life ruining) additions by @idliketobeatree and @eybefioro. this fic is for u two <3 (i also eventually realised that my original post was factually incorrect but hey it birthed this fic so! happy accidents!)

[cherries-and-knives]

The average oldest daughter experience is relating to all the fictional people weighed down by responsibilities, the ones who love aggressively, who want to be great but don’t always know how, or the ones who are expected to be great and are just trying to survive under the weight. It’s finding yourself in the ones who have a hard time expressing emotions, but have little problem expressing anger. It’s being drawn to the protective characters, who love with shields and go down fighting for others, but have a hard time excepting love in return and often don’t expect it.