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tantalizingtopi · 6 months

Text

Foolish

Gortash x Durge (Draela)

Word Count: 783-ish

Disclaimer: Characters are belonging to Larian Studios and Baldur’s Gate 3

Pretadpole. Moonrise Towers, a meeting of the Dead Three’s Chosen. Mild tension as the plan continues.

Enjoy ~

“I still fail to see why you insist on animity, Draela,” Kethric begins, leaning over the table towards me. “It’s not doing you any favors.”

I laugh. “It’s easier for me to keep them in line if they don’t know what purpose I serve, if they remain at a distance and fearful.”

“And they should fear you,” Enver agrees readily.

Ketheric shakes his head. “But how do you expect them to continue to revere you as they should, without knowing how pivotal of a role you play?”

I lean back, steepling my fingers together and take a deep breath. I try to remember that we are only a couple of months from the beginning of the end. Yet I am so tired. I cast my eyes to Enver, watching as he works his fingers against his palm, clearly fighting the stiffness in them from all of his correspondence. He will have to take his leave soon to return to Baldur’s Gate and I am itching to join him, torn between feeling like I need to be here to keep the elder brain functioning properly as well as Kethric’s little minions in check and taking care of temple matters as well as causing further panic in the name of the Absolute. The Banite catches my eyes and smiles guiltily, stilling his hand.

“I prefer some intrigue and mystery, old man. Besides, I doubt your own followers would feel comfortable knowing they remain a heartbeat from death in my presence. I work best in the shadows, and that’s where I will remain.”

“For now, my dear. But you will need to embrace the light at least a little when the time comes for us to rule together,” The tyrant gently reminds me.

“I think we are both looking forward to you taking the centerstage with us as your counterparts, Gortash,” Kethric is quick to respond, and I nod. Kethric has always been a reluctant participant in our partnership, more so since Myrkul brought back his daughter who is disgusted by him. I try to find empathy for him but I simply don’t have it in me. Only an old fool would expect his daughter, whose faith is so strong in an opposing god, to be grateful to be by his side and join him. Especially after all these years she’s lost.

Gortash lets loose one of his famous political smiles, the smile that charms dozens and dozens of elites, and strikes fear in many more. I say very little else for the rest of the meeting as the two hash out intricate details over and over again. The same things we have discussed a hundred times over, with only the tiniest variants that change nothing.

I have been struggling to sleep lately, tucked up in small quarters. Kethric had offered to move Balthazar out of his hole for me, but contrary to popular belief, I prefer sleeping in clean quarters and without the stench of the undead flooding my nostrils. My father visits me while I sleep, visions of a future of rivers of blood and gore, carcasses of the dead piled like mountains on his altar, for him. He wishes for quicker progress, but we are stalled for the time while we track a new lead on something that may prove to be our undoing if we cannot locate it.

I watch my lover as he talks, gesticulating as he goes. I think about what those hands, those fingers, can do to me. What mine can do to him. Suddenly I find myself standing, my hand on his shoulder, freezing him mid-sentence. He looks up at me, concerned. I blink down at him, equally as surprised. I quickly catch myself and turn towards our third. “I think we are done for now, Kethric. That will be all.”

“But—“ Kethric begins, and my grip tightens on Gortash’s shoulder.

“You heard the lady, Kethric. We can continue in the morning. It’s late,” Gortash crosses himself, putting his hand on mine.

Kethric stands, fixing me with a glare. “Fine. But this—“ he gestures to the two of us, “needs to not interfere with our plans.”

“It’s just sex old man,” I retort to his back. “I have told you before I can assist in finding you a suitable replacement if you are interested.”

“I’m not.” He opens the door to leave, looking back at us once more, “you’re both being foolish.”

Kethric’s words echo in my head long after he is gone, long after Enver and I have exhausted ourselves with one another. I lay tucked into my lover’s side, listening to him sleep soundly, longing for that sleep myself, wondering just how foolish I truly am.

#fanfic #baldur's gate 3 #bg3 dark urge #bg3 #bg3 durge #dark urge #durgetash #gortash smut #gortash x durge #lord enver gortash #kethric thorm #bg3 ketheric #bg3 gortash #dark urge x gortash #Draela #bg3 fanfiction #a different type of dark urge

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indiacater · 5 years

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🔥🔥AUTUMN BLUES SUPPORT GROUP🔥🔥🤬😡👹🤯🖕😖😣😓👿

A weekly support group for the gluttons for punishment sub fandom of @drakewalkerwhipped ongoing soap opera that is Autumn Blues and special shout out to her little devil in disguise @nikkisha16. Here we can rant/rage/vent/and theorize over this weeks chapter and past chapters.

Dialogue: Who is worse? Drake or Liam? And what was up with Amber's attitude? Know she is behind the juicy T.E.A and gotten the biggest story of her career but this really can backfire on her due to libel.

Tagging: @bobasheebaby @nikkisha16 @carabeth @aworldoffandoms @choicessa @jens-diamondchoices @omgsomeoneschoicesblog @umccall71 @ehkw1989 @penguininapinktuxedo @regina-and-happiness @queenlorelaiwalker12 @lynne1993 @yukinagato2012 @saivilo @flglamourbabe @blackcoffee85

#trr king liam #drake walker #liam x mc #wtf #draela #drystal #whats done in the dark #destroy what destroys you #destroy juicy t.e.a #destroy drake #destroy crystal #destroy liam #drakewalkerwhipped fic #liam x jaela #drake x jaela #i love you but you make it hard

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tantalizingtopi · 5 months

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Perhaps, Part 2

The Dark Urge x Gortash

NSFW

Word Count: 3607

Part two of Perhaps.

Disclaimer: I do not own these characters, they are Larian Studios and Baldur’s Gate 3

I jolt awake with a gasp, adrenaline pulsing through my veins. “I said you weren’t going anywhere, love.”

Gortash grins, relaxing in the chair in front of me. Thanks to the scroll of revivify that he used, the sparkling dust of it now mixing in with body fluids on the floor, I’m feeling less variable. My friends, no my family, are still dead though, and my heart feels like it’s been cleaved in two. I see Astarion’s—yes definitely Astarion—form on the ground, his red eyes open but vacant, as I test my fingers, pressing each one to my thumb as I rove my eyes around the archduke’s office.

“Eyes on me, Draela, spare your softened heart the pain of it. I tried, didn’t I? They’re literally all over the floor though, poor little spawn.” Gortash’s own gaze flickers to Astarion. “You two bonded over that, I suppose. By freeing him from his master, it gave you the courage to face your own, didn’t it?”

“Fuck you,” I growl. Gortash flinches like I’d just slapped him.

“Okay, you’re right, that was a little harsh. I’m sorry sweetheart, I know they meant a lot to you. Their loss is regrettable. But we can’t have them messing up our grand plan, can we? Really, I’m giving myself too much credit, this was your brainchild afterall, I just helped make it a reality,” his dark eyes hold mine, and I can’t detect a hint of deceit. Did he truly wish they could be spared?

I try not to allow myself to hope, but it takes root anyway. Karlach, Astarion, and Shadowheart are gone now, but what of the others? Will Gortash just lock them away?

“Drae, while I can just take the two netherstones from you, I truly don’t want to do this alone. I mean, I can of course, but it was always supposed to be you and I ruling, and I still want you by my side, despite all your efforts to derail our destiny.” As he speaks, he stands and slowly walks around me.

“Me as the Archduke, and you as my duchess.” He places his hands on my shoulders, gently on the one that is clearly out of place, his breath curling against my ear. “I still want you, and I know you want me too.”

A shiver of excitement coarses through me, and I feel the same way I felt eating the dead spider. No, this is much more than that. His soft chuckle against my flesh, his finger trailing down my neck. Gods what is wrong with me? His teeth graze my ear and a soft moan falls out of my lips before I can stifle it.

His touch trails down my skin, following nearly the same path as my blade had all those months ago. His deft fingers slide inside my battered armor and brush against my nipples, already hardened and needy for his touch. My body betrays me, arcing towards his hands, begging for more. Pathetic that I am, I nearly whimper. His breath in my ear again, his voice a husky growl, “there’s my girl. I’ve missed this body.”

He ghosts his fingers over them again, and this time I can’t bite back the whine. He sucks in a breath, clearly enjoying himself. He strokes my breasts, getting nearer and nearer to their awaiting peaks, and I feel like I may explode. He finally relents and his skilled fingers work my nipples over as I cry out in pleasure. “That’s right, that’s my girl, you do remember.”

He drives me swiftly to the edge pinching and squeezing and touching my nipples in a way only he could. In a way only a familiar lover could. “Cry out my name, sweetheart, and cum for me.”

“En-ver!” I cry, my pussy throbbing as I orgasm, able to fight my dark urges but helpless to his commands. He promptly moves away from me, but not before slipping a hand down my trousers and a finger between my folds, just barely grazing my clit before pulling it out, causing me to gasp in pleasure. Sticky and glistening, he comes back around me before he puts his finger in his mouth and gives his own moan of pleasure.

“I tell you, Drae, there is nothing on this plane that tastes as good as you do,” Gortash says, winking at me as he flips his chair around to sit properly, his erection evident. “I would taste you morning noon and night if I could.”

I bite my lip, staring at the bulge in his pants. He notices and his grin widens. “Oh? Do you want this?”

He gestures, I nod. My hands twitch against the bindings that hold them.

“How do I trust you though? You’ve lied to me, tried to kill me—not for the first time but this time you were really serious—and now you want me to give something to you? You want me to fuck you, to make you see stars as you come apart around me, over and over again?”

This is lunacy. I am bruised, wounded, broken. I should be mourning the loss of three members of my found family. I should be trying to kill the man before me, but all I want right now is his length inside of me. I have gone completely mad.

And he has too, or he is incredibly foolish. Who the hells wants to have the person who has attempted and successfully destroyed his plans to be by their side? Worse, to be their lover? I drag my eyes along his form to meet his. “You’re foolish if you do, but that won’t stop you. It’s never stopped you before.”

“That’s true,” he says, adjusting himself. “I only seem to be reckless and foolish when it comes to you, though. You bring everything out in me, good and bad.”

He leans towards me again, pulling a small tube from his pocket. He begins to fiddle with it and I watch with interest as the artificer moves with technical precision. “You’ve taught me a lot over the last couple of years, did you know? Some valuable life lessons, especially when dealing with that bitch sister of yours. One of those being, always have a contingency plan so you can get the drop on your enemy. It’s why I was so surprised to see you— well, gone.”

“I don’t remember,” I say. He nods.

“In the interest of full transparency, this tube contains a concentrated dose of both antimagic as well as a paralyzing agent that allows you to move but unable to get away, as very much exertion will completely tire you out. You will be fully healed, but your strength completely sapped. Should you agree to it, I’ll inject you with it and we can safely engage in whatever we please.” He taps the tube and a needle slides out, ready to strike.

“And if I refuse?”

He grimaces. “Love is a terrible burden, Draela, one that I had hoped to never have to experience. But here I am. I can’t bring myself to kill you, I can’t let you go. I won’t let you kill yourself. I was lost without you, going through the motions because what else could I do? I hate everyone, hated Orin, all these stupid weak minded and weak willed people. It was the only emotion I had left. Anger and hatred, rule the world and make everyone suffer the way I suffered without you. Seeing you, knowing you were out there, knowing you would eventually come back to me, changed or not, no matter your goal, gave me purpose again. If you refuse, I will inject you anyway, and you will never be far from my presence. I don’t just want you, Drae, I know now that I need you. I am yours and you are mine.”

He leans back and lifts his shirt, showing me the mark I left on him so many moons ago. A part of me longs to trace my fingers over that mark, trace my tongue along its white lines. Reforge it if it fades. I feel fresh tears welling in my eyes and close them to keep them from falling. “What about them?”

Gortash is quiet, and I open my eyes again to find him looking thoughtfully at the bodies of my friends. “The only way to keep them alive is to give them the same fate. Otherwise they pose too much of a threat.”

“Is this injection reversible? Will you ever trust me enough to give me myself back?”

“Hypothetically, yes it is reversible. I haven’t tried to make a cure.” He shrugs. “I was too busy trying to perfect a way to keep you.”

“You promise you’ll figure out a way to reverse it?” His gaze holds mine, his expression earnest.

“My love, I want nothing more than to trust you. I want nothing more than to know you’re with me, fully and willingly.”

“I agree.” He nearly tips my chair over as he crashes his lips to mine, the words barely out of my mouth. I feel the sting as he plunges the needle into my neck, the effects of his concoction kicking in almost instantaneously as the light I had conjured in my palm fizzles out.

His knife makes quick work of my bindings and he is hauling me up to him, wrapping my legs around him and moving us to his desk. In one sweeping motion he clears off and roughly sets me down, his lips never leaving mine. My fingers fumbled at the lacings of his trousers but he rips them down, his shaft finally released. I stroke him and he groans, pulling away to tear off my own clothes.

He forces himself inside and I gasp, grabbing at his jacket and pulling him closer to me. I bite at his lower lip and he growls, pulling himself almost completely out before slamming into me again. He pushes me against the desk and bends over me, worshiping my skin with his mouth as I move to meet his hips with mine. My hands find purchase under his shirt and my nails dig lightly into his back and he groans in pleasure, his pace quickening.

I wrap my legs around him as the pressure builds, urging him on. He brings his face to mine, kissing along my jawline, then my lips. “Look at me.”

My eyes find his dark orbs as his fingers brush my hair away from my face. He nuzzles his nose to mine, parting his lips to say something but then thinking better of it, he buries his face in my neck biting me instead. I gasp in surprise and scrape my nails down his back before digging them into his ass.

“Fuck, Drae,” he groans. “Cum for me right… now.”

I cry out, my body instantly complying, clenching around him. He raises himself up and keeps going, throwing one of my legs over his shoulder. Every thrust is another crashing wave and when he drags his teeth against my calf, his name falls from my lips like a plea.

“That’s my good girl, say my name and cum for me again.” He roughly grabs my ass and sinks the metal of his gauntlet into my flesh.

“Enver! Oh gods, Enver!” I spasm around him and he hisses in pleasure, slowing as I struggle to catch my breath.

He pulls out and I hear my wetness drip onto the floor in the silence. I whine at the emptiness, at him not cumming himself. “Shh shh shh.”

He leans over to kiss me, his fingers already teasing my folds. “Don’t worry darling, I’m not through with you. Far from it.”

He buries his face between my legs, working me over with his tongue and his fingers, his nose rubbing up against my clit when his tongue plunges inside, and his fingers replacing his tongue when he rolls it against my clit instead. “Cum on my tongue, sweetheart, let me taste how much you want me.”

I come apart again, my fingers in his hair as I grind against his face. His own pleasurable groans escape his lips as he tastes me. He pulls away momentarily, probably to catch his own breath, once again working his fingers against me and I can’t take it anymore. “Please, Enver.”

His face registers surprise. “Please,” his voice is husky, filled with wanting, but the word sounds as if it’s foreign to him. “Please, what?”

His fingers rub against my g spot and I moan in delicious agony. “Please, Enver, I need you.”

I must imagine the heat creep on his cheeks as he barks “Turn around.”

He grabs me before I can begin to respond, his hands rough as he spins me around and presses me against the desk. My feet can barely keep me upright but it’s no matter for him. A sharp sting as he slaps my ass before rubbing the spot gently. A flash of a flash of a memory of me telling him that his softness in bed disgusted me early on in our relationship; in my old life. He pushes my legs further apart, while pulling my hips to him, grinding himself against me before slowly, agonizingly slowly, easing into me. I sigh, delighting in the satisfaction of being filled by him.

He begins slow, steadily increasing his speed. “You cum when I tell you, alright? You can take it, I know you can.”

As he thrusts hard and fast, his fingers twist in my hair, pulling my head back and to the side so he can see my face. I rock my hips to meet his and his hand resonates against my ass. He pushes me gently down against the desk, my head still turned so he can see me. He groans, closing his eyes for a moment. “Gods, you’re exquisite.”

I push back against him and he growls, moving even faster as his grip on my hips tightens. Just as it is reaching its crescendo, he curses and pulls out. I collapse against the desk, my legs weak. He helps me back onto the desk, turning me again and coaxing me even further onto it, his body following mine. I gaze up at him, taking in his features. The face of evil, the face of a man I once loved, the face of a stranger. His voice is low, “I need to see you.”

I nod, and he rocks himself into me again, lowering himself onto his forearms so he can be close. He kisses me, and my lips part to let his tongue in. His hand cups my breast, his fingers playing with me, teasing my flesh. I moan against his lips and his pace picks up. He pulls his mouth from me as the pressure builds and stares at me. I do my best to keep my eyes on his, but my vision is hazy with lust. His fingers dip down to stroke me. “Enver—“

“Now, cum now,” his groans and I call out his name again as I break into a million pieces with him. He calls out mine like a prayer on his lips.

“Mmmm,” I purr against his neck a few minutes later, pressing my lips to it. I feel deliciously, completely full. He rests above me, his frame against mine but still maintaining some resistance to crushing me against him and the desk. He twitches still inside of me, and I run my tongue against his collarbone. He twitches again and this time I playfully move in response, earning a growl from Gortash. He gently lifts himself off of me and slowly pulls out of me as he climbs off the desk. I watch as he looks at the mess he made with satisfaction. I struggle to stretch my legs out and together, my muscles aching from tension and release.

“Don’t move,” he says, wagging a finger at me before he disappears for a moment. I turn my head towards the bodies of my friends, knowing they’d be absolutely horrified if they had witnessed the scene that had played out mere feet from where they’d been slain. My stomach twists and nausea overwhelms me and I have to turn away, rolling over to my side to face away from them. Gortash returns with bowl and a towel.

“What are you—?” I begin as he shushes me again.

Gently, he eases me onto my back once more and parts my legs. I throw my arm over my eyes, suddenly self conscious with the way he is looking at my pussy. He runs a finger gently down my folds, making me gasp as I spasm. I listen as he wets the towel and wrings it out, carefully pressing it against me and cleaning me. The water is warm, and the gesture is so intimate, I want to recoil from him, lash out. Instead, I bite my lip and let him continue.

When he is done, he scoops me up into his arms and carries me to his private quarters. He sits me on the bed and rubs his hands together, a gesture I recall he would do when he was extremely nervous. “I had a few things made for you, and if you don’t like them, we can find something else. I want you to be comfortable and dressed in only the best.”

He opens the closet, and I take in the dozen or so pieces, each exuding status and wealth. A memory of pink satin, stained in blood, my fingers feeling the fabric between my fingers and vowing to dress more elegantly. I move to the clothes, admiring each in turn, noting the dark color scheme, with the exception of two, one predominantly teal. I take it down and Gortash offers to help me into it. I accept, first pulling on the matching undergarments, feeling his gaze on me. He helps me step into the dress and then makes quick work of the lacing, keeping the bodice form fitting and flattering without sacrificing breathing and mobility.

“Enver, I’m not going anywhere, you do know that?” I ask, watching him in the mirror as he finishes lacing.

His gaze meets mine in the mirror, hurt flashing across his features. “I just want to make sure you’re really you, is all. You’re so different from the Draela I fell in love with; yet so much of you is the same. Orin tried many times to trick me into believing she was you.”

I turn, one hand in the hair at the nape of his neck, the other against his cheek. He leans into my touch as I rub small circles into the base of his scalp. “I’m not the same, that’s true. Orin made sure of that when she made mincemeat of my brain. But I’d like to think that I’m someone a bit better, someone out from my father’s thumb.”

He takes me hand and presses a kiss to my palm. “So far, I like what I see.”

————

That evening, I lay in his bed, tucked into his side, plotting. I feel his chest rise and fall, tell that he is sleeping and sleeping soundly, probably the first truly sound sleep he’s had in awhile by how quickly he was able to relax. Whatever he injected me with, he trusts it will be enough to keep him safe. He isn’t the only one with ‘lotions and potions’ as that hag would say.

“Enver?” I rise onto my elbow, looking at him, and his arm around me tightens for a moment. This seems to stir him awake and he pulls me on top of him, his arms wrapped around me and pushes a kiss to the top of my head.

“So beautiful,” he murmurs into my hair.

“If you could have just one of your desires, what would it be?”

“You,” he says without hesitation. “Without you, I’m nothing.”

“You’re sweet,” I say, earning a chuckle from him.

“Or stupid,” he says as I lift my head to look at him. He opens his eyes and meets mine in the darkness. “What are you plotting, my virago?”

“Nothing.”

“Bullshit.” We assess one another for a moment, before he laughs again, shaking his head. “You know what? I don’t even care. End me if you must, just promise me that your face will be the last I see. Grant me that, at least. Let me die by your hands.”

“If it comes to that,” I press my lips to his, and he returns the kiss eagerly. “But you should know by now, there’s always another way.”

He holds me to him, languidly moving his mouth against mine. “A million ways to murder me, you mean? You’ve told me in great detail.”

I wait for the desire to come, to have to fight myself to stay present, but nothing comes. I grin against his lips. “I have no desire to describe your end to you.”

He pulls away. “Truly?”

“If I can reject and be rejected by my god, perhaps…”

“Hush,” he snaps, fear shining in his eyes. He further quiets me by crushing his lips to mine, roughly positioning my legs around him, his arousal pressing against me.

Later, spent from being lost in one another, I begin to drift off, nestled against him. He shifts me gently as he places a hand behind his head, pulling me closer to him with his other. He waits to see if I stir, and when I don’t, he lets out a slow breath. “Perhaps.”

#fanfic #baldur's gate 3 #bg3 #bg3 dark urge #bg3 durge #dark urge #durgetash #gortash smut #gortash x durge #lord enver gortash

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tantalizingtopi · 6 months

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Perhaps, Part 1 of 2

Durge (Draela) x Gortash

Word count: 1248

NSFW - cw: blood, gore, death. Mildly unwanted/unwarranted sexual advances

Disclaimer: I do not own the characters portrayed in this writing, they are property of Baldur’s Gate 3 and Larian Studios

Gortash has defeated the merry band of travelers, and all that remains is his former lover. Despite all the steps she has taken against him, he can’t help but hold out for hope.

“You’ve been quite the little hero, haven’t you?” The words reverberate in my broken mind as my eyes swim, trying to focus on who or what was speaking. The more I rouse, the more my body screams in agony.

“Wha-?” I manage, it comes out as barely a whisper. I recognize the twin peaks I stare at now, my own knees, covered in blood and bruises and one jutting off at a painfully odd angle. Fearful, I try to wiggle my toes. They move, barely, painfully, agonizingly.

Two fingers slide under my chin and jerk my head upwards. I wince in response, seeing the dark haired man. The painful touch is replaced with an odd, soft caress against my jawline before he removes his hand. “You look at me when I talk to you, Drae.”

I shake with the effort of leaning back, my spine and ribs protesting. I remember now; I remember him calling me Drae. Affectionately. A series of images come flooding to me quickly, a montage of still shots. He was the first person to really see me, more than just an expert assassin, a bhaalspawn.

I work my tongue in my mouth with effort, the nerves in my face crying out in pain every time my jaw moves, telling me it’s at the very least dislocated. I fix my old lover with a glare, and with effort, spit a glob of curdled blood at his feet, watching his face with satisfaction as it briefly flashes with disgust.

He laughs. Not his usual haughty laugh, a full body laugh, complete with watery eyes and several snorts, which makes him laugh even harder. I find myself chuckling despite myself, if only for the absolute absurdity of the scene, but a small part of me wonders if I’ve well and truly lost the little bit of sanity I manage to hold onto.

“I was worried,” Gortash catches his breath. “That my Drae was truly lost, but I see her now. Maybe it’s just a spark, a flicker of a ghost, but it’s enough for me.”

He pauses expectantly. I say nothing. Every shallow breath I take is a thousand tiny daggers into my lungs.

“When I saw you in that goblin camp, I didn’t dare believe it was true. Not at first. My eyes were betraying me, you chatted with that drow. Through the scrying eye, I couldn’t let myself have that hope. I’d seen your body, mangled nearly beyond recognition. What that bitch did to you, I—“ he bites his lip and I hear his fists clench and unclench, the metal moving against itself.

He shakes his head and draws a calming breath. I say nothing.

“No matter, she’s dead and you’re here now,” he tears his eyes away from me just long enough to find the only other unbroken chair in the room, dragging it in front of me and straddling the back of it.

My vision swims to another lifetime, one in which the same scene is in front of me, but Gortash—no Enver— is resting shirtless, a goblet of wine in his hand. I sway my hips seductively in front of him while he watches with that look of absolute devotion on his face. ‘Come on, I promise it won’t hurt too much. I’ll kiss it to make it all better,’ I plead with him. I drag the tip of my blade enticingly down my body and watch with excitement as his eyes follow the movement. He groans in agony, and pleasure washes over me. I know I’ve won before he even says the words, ‘I can’t believe I’m going to let you do this.’ I grin and press my lips to his eagerly, the idea of making his flesh as mine forevermore almost as thrilling as the promise of another night of ecstasy with my lover that is sure to follow.

Gortash’s touch snaps me out of the reverie, jerking my head away from his palm and snarling, the movement reverberating down my spine, pure agony. How could I have ever loved this man? The sheer amount of terror and pain he’s caused. What he did to Karlach alone is unforgivable. The hurt and disappointment on his face pulls at my heartstrings though.

“I know you’ve taken another lover,” Gortash says softly, keeping his arm close to me, out of bite range but the gesture of longing to touch me doesn’t go unnoticed. “I never thought of all people though that it would be that pompous asshole— the Blade of the Frontiers he calls himself, what a twat.”

He snorts. “I don’t blame you, he’s charming in his own way, I suppose. Still a twat, though, even if he has you on his arm. You deserve better, Draela. You deserve more than a whelpling servant of a lowly cambion. Didn’t even have the intelligence to make a pact with someone who holds real power, a real devil.” He snorts again.

I say nothing. I had begged Wyll to stay at camp, begged him to stay there and if we didn’t return, to leave. I hadn’t wanted to worry about him during the battle, I wanted him safe. Our last conversation had been an argument over him staying behind, and our last kiss had been me desperately trying to convey to him how much I love him, while he only felt hurt and betrayed by my insistence.

And now, I’d never see him again. If he is dead, I don’t wish to continue on. I didn’t want to continue on when my father killed me, but Withers brought me back to finish this. But I can’t. In the end, I couldn’t defeat Gortash, and I refuse to go on trying if Wyll is dead. So sweet, so romantic, so completely opposite the monster that I was. He loved me despite everything I had done, accepted me as I am, fought for me when I couldn’t fight myself anymore.

I feel the rivulet of water streak down my cheek, and Gortash sees it. “Fuck, you’re not, crying, are you?”

I say nothing, not even bothering to try and blink away the tears. My vision is beginning to go spotty, and I feel the darkness starting to come for me again. I silently beg for it to claim me forever. My eyes focus on a bloody boot, the pool of blood it rests on starting to harden. Maybe Astarion?

“Ah ah ah,” Gortash clucks, reaching out to force my attention back on him. “You’re not going to be joining them, sweetheart. Not yet, anyway.”

I’m too weak to pull away from him again, letting his thumb skate over my lips. He sighs, his expression softening once more. He groans, “The things these lips can do to me should be illegal.”

My mouth tingles where he just touched, and I let my tongue taste the blood mixed with the saltiness of his hand. He sucks in his lip as he watches, and some sick part of me is pleased to see the effect I have on him even now. A sicker part of me is excited by it. I close my eyes. Just for a moment.

His thumb grazes my cheek before his fingers push my bloody hair behind my half-pointed ears. He keeps two of his fingers at my jawline, using them to keep my head from lolling. I hear wood on wood as the chair scrapes back, feel his lips press to mine.

#baldur's gate 3 #fanfic #bg3 dark urge #bg3 durge #dark urge #durgetash #bg3 #gortash smut #lord enver gortash #gortash x durge #enver gortash #lord gortash #dark urge x gortash #bg3 gortash #the dark urge #wyll ravengard

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indiacater · 5 years

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🔥🔥AUTUMN BLUES SUPPORT GROUP🔥🔥😡🤬👹😓😭😢😣😖😏

The next chapter will be posted next week but this post is going to be Extra special because its an.....

ASK THE AUTHOR POST

So @drakewalkerwhipped will be answering your questions of all things AB, and other stories she has graced us with. So get your most thought provoking questions posted!

Tagging: @bobasheebaby @nikkisha16 @carabeth @aworldoffandoms @choicessa @jens-diamondchoices @omgsomeoneschoicesblog @flglamourbabe @saivilo @attuneless @yukinagato2012 @penguininapinktuxedo @umccall71 @ehkw1989 @blackcoffee85

#drake x mc #liam x mc #drakewalkerwhipped fic #draela #drystal #jiam #destroy juicy t.e.a #destroy drake #destroy crystal #destroy liam #destroy what destroys you #team jaela #team olivia #team lia #team jackson

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indiacater · 5 years

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🔥🔥AUTUMN BLUES SUPPORT GROUP🔥🔥🤬🤬😡😡🤬🤬😡😡🤬

A weekly support group for the story Autumn Blues written by sub fandom icon @drakewalkerwhipped. This a place to rant/rage/vent/and theorize over both current and past chapters.

Dialogue: The shit has hit the fan. Drake is now seeing the devastation of his actions in his family, his wife is angry and in pain, his kids are pissed and indifferent and he doesn't know what to do other than leave. Thoughts anyone? As usual discussions for current and past chapters.

#drakewalkerwhipped #drake x jaela #drake walker #drystal #draela #jiam #team jackson #team jaela #team lia #team Olivia #destroy crystal #destroy liam #destroy drake #destroy what destroys you #autumn blues

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indiacater · 5 years

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👿👿AUTUMN BLUES SUPPORT GROUP👿👿👹🤬😡😓🖕😢😖😭😣

The weekly post where we, gluttons for punishment meet to vent/rage/theorize of the ongoing saga written by the demon queen @drakewalkerwhipped with season three she is joined by her devil's advocate @nikkisha16. And yes it's too early to call for them to be burned at the stake.

Dialogue: Once again we all knew this would happen now its been confirmed. So what will Crystal do? Since she never had any sense to listen to her parents, and now we understand why. Will she tell Drake? How will he take the news? Is there hope for Drake and Jaela? What will Jaela do if Liam sees the picture she sent to Drake? Most importantly of all, who is Jaela?

Tagging: @bobasheebaby @nikkisha16 @flglamourbabe @saivilo @carabeth @aworldoffandoms @choicessa @jens-diamondchoices @omgsomeoneschoicesblog @drakewalkerwhipped @umccall71 @akrenich @blackcoffee85 @lynne1993 @yukinagato2012 @carabeth @ehkw1989 @penguininapinktuxedo @innerpostmentality

#drakewalkerwhipped fic #drake x mc #draela #trr drake #evil liam #team lia #team jaela #team Olivia #team Jackson #jiam #destroy juicy t.e.a #destroy drake #destroy crystal #destroy liam #destroy what destroys you #wtf is going on

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indiacater · 5 years

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🔥🔥AUTUMN BLUES SUPPORT GROUP🔥🔥👿😡🤬👹🖕😭😖😓😣

A weekly support group post for the ongoing soap opera written by @drakewalkerwhipped and @nikkisha16 as her little shoulder devil for season three. Here we can rant/rage/vent/and theorize over current, past and future chapters.

Dialogue: Well everyone is at a low point right now. Why would Drake get in an argument with Liam with the kids present? Jaela is so broken that she hasn't left her room, abusing her medication, and right now she has given up. So Amber realized that money was worth more than friendship especially when her friend is in a very vulnerable situation. Was it worth it?

Tagging: @bobasheebaby @nikkisha16 @carabeth @aworldoffandoms @choicessa @jens-diamondchoices @omgsomeoneschoicesblog @flglamourbabe @saivilo @yukinagato2012 @umccall71 @ehkw1989 @penguininapinktuxedo @regina-and-happiness @queenlorelaiwalker12 @lynne1993 @hopefulmoonobject @blackcoffee85

#drakewalkerwhipped fic #draela #drystal #jiam #destroy crystal #destroy liam #destroy drake #destroy juicy t.e.a #destroy what destroys you #team jaela #team lia #team olivia #chelsea we need to talk #team jackson #AB support group

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indiacater · 5 years

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🔥🔥AUTUMN BLUES SUPPORT GROUP🔥🔥👹🤬😡🤮🖕👿😢😭😖

A weekly support group for the Autumn Blues Subfandom created by @drakewalkerwhipped and her devil in sheep's clothing @nikkisha16. This is a place to come and rant/rage/vent/and theorize over current and past and future chapters.

Dialogue: How far can a woman be pushed before she begins fighting back? We have seen Jaela be pushed further to the point where she is abusing meds but she hasn't been pushed to her true breaking point. So what will it take?

Tagging: @bobasheebaby @nikkisha16 @carabeth @aworldoffandoms @choicessa @jens-diamondchoices @omgsomeoneschoicesblog @flglamourbabe @saivilo @yukinagato2012 @drakewalkerwhipped @umccall71 @ladynonsense @akrenich @blackcoffee85

#drakewalkerwhipped fic #drake x mc #trr drake #draela #jiam #justice for jackson #justice for lia #justice for jaela #shit just got real #Drake is a pussy #team jaela #team lia #team olivia #team jackson #destroy crystal #destroy liam #destroy drake #destroy juicy t.e.a #destroy what destroys you

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indiacater · 5 years

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Autumn Blues Support Group

A place to vent about @drakewalkerwhipped Autumn Blues and converse theories and ideas.

This weeks conversation dialogue: How are feeling about Drake's emotional state at the moment from getting those messages to leaving behind his little girlfriend, to the explosion of fighting with Liam and seeing Jaela.

Tagging: @ehkw1989 @penguininapinktuxedo @regina-and-happiness @queenlorelaiwalker12 @lynne1993 @yukinagato2012 @nikkisha16 @innerpostmentality @bobasheebaby @blackcoffee85 @umccall71 @ladynonsense @aworldoffandoms @boneandfur @akrenich

#drakewalkerwhipped #destroy drake #trr drake #destroy what destroys you #team jaela #team lia #team jackson #team Olivia #Jiam #Draela #drystal

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resetmypatientviolence · 5 years

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Nesting (Drake x MC)

Pairing/Characters: Drake x Jaela

Word Count: 2,400

Rating: PG

Warnings: Mild language

Description: Today’s the due date of the baby. But nothing’s happening. Jaela’s trying to relax while Drake can’t keep still-- much to Jaela’s annoyance.

Note: This is just fluffy because why not. This is in regards to their pregnancy with Lia, who (if you read the Fatherhood series), decided to take her sweet time to appear into the world. Masterlist is found in my bio.

She’s barely awake before Drake’s in her face, still a sleepy blur, before he’s asking her, “Is it time? Should we go to the hospital?”, hand on her stomach, peeking out from under her tank, as it does with most things now that weren’t a dress. She shakes her head, guiding his hand to where their child is currently—and happily—pushing against her with their foot.

“They’re pretty content where they’re at…” She yawns, rubbing her eyes—but she didn’t miss Drake’s pout, the disappointment clear on his face, dark circles under his eyes. He’s been getting such little sleep, looking over things he’s read a million times in the baby books when she wakes up to use the bathroom time and time again in the middle of the night.

“But… it’s their due date today…”

The sadness in his voice is unmistakable, but Jaela’s not surprised. He’s been more than ready for the last two weeks, barely leaving her side and checking in with her every time she made a face or muttered something about her body hurting. And it did.

“It’s just an estimation…” she reminds him, shifting under the covers, rolling on her back and starting to sit up—though Drake helps with that and adjusts the pillows for her. Jaela smiles and leans back, hands on her very round stomach. As much as she wants to meet this child, Jaela’s trying to be mindful that she’ll wait—they’ll come on their own time. No need to rush them. “The baby will come when they come, Walker.”

Drake sighs, then kisses her stomach before her, setting his hand over hers. “I’m just so impatient. I want to meet them. Hold them. Love them,” he says, nearly glowing himself. She could melt right there, the sincerity in his words and voice so clear, eyes full of love. Chance hops on the bed and trots over to Jaela, head resting on her lap, right by the bump. It’s a common occurrence, sometimes the baby offering a kick hard enough to surprise him. Together the chuckle, petting him. “See? Even he wants to meet them. He’s impatient too.”

“Nobody more than you,” Jaela says with a click of her tongue, nudging him. She glances down when she feels the baby shift. The doctors said they were in position—and it was just a matter of time. But… there’s no pain, no water breaking—nothing. Just a slowpoke child, and an antsy husband, and dog, apparently. And the staff. Everybody, really. All except her. “That said… I suppose I can try to speed things along….”

Drake grins. “We’ve still got a whole day and night to go. They’ve got plenty of time to be born on their due date. And…” The way his voice drops to the delicious husky timber that sends shivers every time, even if it’s the middle of the night and she wants sleep, lips against her ear in the lightest of touches— “I’ve got just the thing to start…”

Chance quickly vacates the bed when his hand slips under her waistband, lips finding hers, tongues meeting without a moment to waste.

Well, she might as well take advantage of the sex for now.

“Drake!” Jaela gulps down water, face warm from the eggs. The very spicy eggs. To too spocy eggs. “H-how much cayenne and hot sauce did you put in here—oh my god— I am not eating these—”

She was starving after the sex, and since Drake decided to take the past few days off of work to prepare for the baby, he’s been making her breakfast. And today it was a spicy nightmare—and she’s only just begun to enjoy eggs since the pregnancy. But not these. Drake chuckles, replacing her plate with another one, the scrambled eggs looking a far less dangerous shade of red. “They say spicy foods can help speed up labor, that’s all.”

Jaela glares at him, taking a bite of decidedly less spicy eggs. “Drake, this baby is going to come when they want to come. And burning off my tongue is certainly not going to help. Do that again and I’ll murder you.” He rolls his eyes at her playful threat and takes his seat at the table, watching her carefully, as if the baby’s going to be born the second he looks away.

“I’m just impatient, that’s all, Abdi. No more crazy spicy foods. But you can bet I’ll make anything that has a liberal amount of spice to it. I just can’t wait to see you hold her…”

“Or him,” Jaeal replies with a smirk. She truly doesn’t care what the baby is—she’s just happy to be a mom after almost a year of trying and failing. But he’s been insistent on their gender.

Drake’s eyes sparkle, smile wide as Jaela feeds Chance some toast. She’s soft to the puppy eyes now. Pregnancy did that to her—they’ll both be going on diets after this baby comes. “It’s a girl. I told you from when we first found out. I just know it.”

He’s never stopped going on about that—always believing that it’s been a girl. Hana and Max guess a boy; Liam agrees with Drake; and Liv says the best part about not knowing was having such a feeling of joy when you’re surprised, and so happy that the baby is there—and besides, why gender a fetus? But… Drake was convinced. “Well… if the baby is a girl… we’re going to have to figure out a name. We still haven’t agreed on a girl’s name.”

“We’ll figure it out when she’s here,” Drake shrugs, mouthful of toast. “I personally like Emily.” Jaela wrinkles her nose. Drake cocks an eyebrow. “What? It’s cute. It’s a good, classic—”

“It’s boring. We are not naming our daughter the most basic name in existence. She’s the daughter of Duke Drake Walker and Jaela Abdi-Walker of Valtoria. Let’s make it something special, something worthy.”

Drake laughs. “You have a point. Then, how about Madeli—”

She knows it’s a joke, that sparkle in his eyes there, but Jaela still tosses bits of eggs at him, smiling herself. If it’s a girl in there… she’s sure they’ll know the moment they see her. Why rush and assign a name that doesn’t fit?

Finally—she’s alone. Thank god. And she doesn’t even believe.

Drake’s been following her all morning—and frantically cleaning and organizing any room they’re in… even if he’s already cleaned it the day before. She’s been walking around to try and get this child to come out on time because if anything, aside from wanting to hold them and love them after the hell it took to get here, she wants Drake off her back, watching her like a hawk. At least when the baby is here, there’s a reason for him to follow her around. But this? She’s pregnant, not helpless.

She sighs, reaching the gym, phone connecting to the stereo. She convinced Drake that the bushes should be trimmed, so that got him away and she (barely) managed to change into tennis shoes, already wearing leggings and one of Drake’s old, too big shirts since they had no obligations. She worked until last week, until Liam nearly forced her to relax and made sure that all of her obligations were handled and covered. She could work today. But—

“Jaela!” gasps Drake, entering the room. Jaela groans, music just started, but keeps walking going to the exercise ball, sitting on it. She sure as hell didn’t want to use any of the machines. “I thought you—”

“I’m fine, Drake. I just came down her to do a little workout on the ball.” Does bouncing on it count? Although, it’s her due date and the baby has no signs of wanting to make their grand entrance, so Jaela assumes that she makes the rules now. In the mirror’s reflection, Drake looks at her, worried, while she looks like a ball herself bouncing on the ball, hands on the sides of her stomach, braids high on her head, some slipping out. She looks like a swollen mess and he simply looks like a worries mess.

She sighs as he comes behind her, hands on her shoulders, massaging them. Well, this part of him being around her isn’t bad. “That should help, right?”

“Mmhm.” It does feels good, even if she just wanted to listen to some music alone. “Maybe. It’s worth a shot and it won’t tire me out that much.” And I wanted to be left alone but… “And they’ll come when they come, Drake. Trust me—when I go into labor, you’ll be the first person to know. I promise.”

Worry melts from his face, looking at her tenderly in the mirror. “I know. And I’m sorry I’m… overbearing? I just… after everything we went through, I want them and you to be safe. So…” Damn the shoulder massages feel good. Jaela looks up at him, smiling.

“You’re already being a protective father.” Jaela touches his hand, still bouncing on the ball. It helps her back, too. Been a damn lifesaver this whole time. “You’ve been a father since we found out. Before, really. They’re going to be so lucky, you know. Nothing bad is ever gonna happen to them.”

Drake chuckles, thumb circling her neck just right. Maybe they can get back to the having sex part of trying to urge this child to Earth….“That’s right. I’ll make sure of it.”

It is annoying to have him follow her around but… Jaela sighs happily, meeting his eyes in the mirror. There’s worse things he could do than want to wait on her hand and foot, truly. She can handle him. It’s just out of love.

“Oh my god. Drake. What the fuck. Stop cleaning!”

Jaela watched him in a twenty-minute span clean the counters twice. Dusted all surfaces twice. Fluffed pillows twice. She just wanted to watch some trashy TV and read a book in peace with her feet up—not hear Drake mutter about dust and how the pillows look lopsided over and over. But that’s all he’s been doing all morning, following her around room by room (allowing for a two-minute gap before his arrival), watching her with worry.

It’s been a week since the due date… and the baby seems more determined than ever to stay in there. Aside from the one close call—but the cramps stopping and the baby was back to normal, stretching in there. Even if they’ve been a bit quiet since the early hours of the morning and Jaela’s been brushing off light pain as Braxton Hick’s, or signs of far too early labor. For too early to go to the hospital for and to have Drake whining to her about how they should go there. So, she’s quiet about it, just wanting to relax—and not telling him that she knows the baby will come soon. Even if soon meant three days from now.

She wants peace. And he is the opposite. He’s annoying, really.

Drake turns, shocked, jaw dropped. “Jaela, I’m just cleaning for—”

“You’ve been cleaning for weeks now, Drake,” Jaela says, stern, petting Chance, always by her side. Her brows are furrowed and she frowns, glaring at him, voice sharp. “You’re nesting worse than me and you’re not the one with a seven pound—but really feels like thirty pound—baby in you who is taking their sweet time to come out. I want some peace and quiet—as we’ll never get it again—but I can’t with you around here.”

Is she being harsh? She’s too annoyed at her husband, looking like a wounded puppy, to care.

Jaela starts to stand, and Drake rushes to help, but she waves him off, pulling herself up, wincing at the sharpness in her back. Hand on her lower back, one on her stomach, Jaela looks up to him, eyes narrowed. “Jae, I’m just trying to help—”

That’s an idea. “You know what would help me,” Jaela says, waddling—more or less—to the kitchen, where their keys are. Drake and Chance follow. “Is you going to work.” She tosses him the keys, triumphant in her idea.

Drake frowns himself, holding them up, inspecting them as if they’re a foreign object. Granted, they haven’t left the duchy in over a week. Walked every inch of it together for a date… most nights in a row. But still. They’ve been on lockdown, just waiting for baby Abdi-Walker to say hello. “How…? I don’t want to leave you alone, Jaela.”

Jaela groans. “Just for a few hours, okay? Go to the palace, have a whiskey, answer some emails, sign some papers and then come back to me? Let me just… be… in peace? Can you please do this for me?” she pleads, going to him, hands on his chest. Drake caresses her stomach, resignation across his face. He can’t resist her when she pleads, batting her lashes, asking for a favor. “Like I said, I promise you’ll be the first one to know if I’m in labor and… and I highly doubt in the three hours that you’re gone I’ll be having a baby. Just a little break? Talk to Liam? Do something productive that isn’t wiping the counters to an early death, please?”

And like magic—of course—Drake sighs in defeat and kisses her tenderly, rubbing her stomach. “Fine. A few hours. Then I’m here until I return to work after the baby’s born, understand? And Jaela—don’t be a martyr—if anything happens—” Their eyes lock, his tone serious. Jaela knows in those chestnut eyes she hopes their child will have that he means it. “You call me, okay? Call me and I’ll be here to help you and we’ll be off to the hospital to have a baby. Understand?”

“Mmhmm…” She smiles wide, kissing the tip of his nose. “I do. Now… get to work. I need to catch up with some Housewives…” She taps his ass when he turns, rolling his eyes, and she giggles, happy for the peace and quiet—and settling dust—to come.

Although, an hour later, when the pain is constant her water breaks the second she’s out of the shower, all she can mutter is, “Well, shit.”

Disclaimer: All characters and rights belong to Pixelberry Studios.

Permatag: @youwontlikewherewewillgo, @mfackenthal, @hhiggs, @jadedpixiescribbles, @ashtonmore, @enmchoices @the-everlasting-dream, @hopefulmoonobject, @krisnicjack, @museofbooks, @ladynonsense, @innerpostmentality, @thatcatlady0716, @lizeboredom, @choicessa, @boneandfur, @tmarie82, @speedyoperarascalparty, @thatspicegirlssong @zigthetwig, @craftytacotrashdream, @blackcoffee85, @akrenich, @trr-fangirl, @client-327, @abbiebishops, @thewolvesss

Drake: @fairydustandsarcasm

#trr #drake x mc #the royal romance #playchoices #drake walker #playchoices fanfic #choices fanfic #trr fanfic #trr fic #playchoices fic #choices fic #drake x jaela #HAPPY PEOPLE HAPPY #drakewalkerwhipped fic #long post #read more #draela #the royal heir #really

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