#˚₊𓆩༺🕷༻𓆪₊�� script — thread.

[demonwebs]

oh , he would , wouldn't he ? he can see it clearer now , from up close — the untamed savagery trapped behind his perilous gaze , swirling , warring with a need for calculation ; he recognizes the reflection as he would his own , and it brings a pang of longing with it , a spark of excitement to illuminate this dreary night , chasing off the vultures of boredom .

the drow strikes with a suddenness that bellies his large , bulky build , choking a sharp exhale in the constricted length of his throat . was he really that fast , or was his own mind just ... distracted ? he supposes it could be both , his thinly veiled interest certainly played a part in this willingness to submit himself to the role of prey — and it made itself known in the way his pulse quickened , throat arching into the bruising grip as his heart thrums beneath his fingertips , feeling the wind kiss the naked expanse of his back , flutter the long curtain of his hair as his willowy body is forcibly bent towards the maw of darkness below .

jeweled eyes glitter with lurid satisfaction as he feels the grip around his pale throat tighten like a vise , a languid stretch threatening a smile . ❝ oh . ❞ it sounds soft and erotic , a surge of warmth licking at his skin as the aching discomfort blooms red against the pale canvas of his skin . he hums , vocals strained , slow-blinking lashes flirting with danger . ❝ ... is this the part where you kill me ? ❞ he asks in a cloying-sweet lilt , a mimicry of docility from a practiced tongue , sharp in all the ways that still matter as his spindly hand drapes itself over his feebly. ❝ don't i get a kiss first ? ❞

his world was red, as red as his image reflected in those wide, blinking eyes before him. as if a realisation has been had, and he had suffered the misfortunate of glimpsing into xvilnar's mind, to witness what carnage was there, wrought by his hands. it was never needless, each death had a purpose, was never acted carelessly and rarely in haste. he was meticulous, in times spent planning rather than acting. the latter would come in due time.

to quite literally shove this one off this mortal coil was acting in haste, carelessness, and yet he found temptations grip to be unyielding. he wasn't the first follower of the spider queen to be sent after him, if his assumption was correct. none ever returned to her venomous embrace once they found him.

“   wouldn't i? ” his fingers pluck at the fallen silken strap, dragging it slowly back up the others' arm in an abnormally gentle caress and returning it to his shoulder. his hand lingers by the sharp collarbone, before swiftly wrapping around the drows' slender throat. xvilnar leans in impossibly close, and as he does so, tilts the young drow backwards by the grip on his neck alone. it's precarious, one slip up and he'll fall to his death. the thought aroused him, ignited the senses, exhilaration at its peak.

“   you, who watched me for the better part of an hour, presume to know what i would and wouldn't do? ” he hisses, fingers squeezing.

[demonwebs]

🥺🥺 but i'm sorryyyy @deathratled

there's a pillowy pout on his ruddy lips , and he's whining as if he'd been the one wronged , wounded . poor , sad little drow . ❝ aaahh ... forgive me already , ❞ he purrs , pushing the tip of his nose against his nape before flicking that wet tongue against it the skin , again , and again . ❝ i said i was sorry ... ❞ which he might as well be . he has the self-control of a twelve year old child on a sugar high . it hardly means he won't do it again .

[demonwebs-a]

cont. @deathratled

sing-songy and cloying-sweet , he hums into the shell of his ear : ❝ one of these days you're gonna run out of spells , sharran ... ❞ he's unrelenting , and nothing about his posture signals he's anywhere near close to stop chewing on this particular bone now that he knows he can . ❝ go on , go on , pray then ... ❞ snowy lashes weigh down his sluggish lids , flashing bedroom eyes at the sharran as he cushions his chin atop his shoulder , waiting . ❝ i'll be quiet as a mouse , promise . ❞

[demonwebs]

pull.  for your muse to pull my muse close to them.

‘ via the system of touch ’ / accepting .

❝ hey - ! ❞ displeasure clicks against the roof of his mouth , wanting to snarl , to bare his pointy teeth in a shallow hiss that will accomplish nothing as those large encompass his waist with far too much ease ; a faint , protestant squeak leaves his pale throat , strained , begrudging , like a toy squeezed too tight , handled too roughly by the reckless hands of a child who knows no better - even if it ought to by now .

vexation unspools on his honed tongue as those spindly fingers recoil then stretch to smack that large hand holding him hostage , inconsequentially . ❝ stop doing that . ❞ he scolds ; albeit , admittedly , he makes no real effort to pry himself out of his grasp while doing so . there's ... worse things than being smothered into the warm confines of his chest , or ensnared by his unyielding , muscular arms ... he supposes . ❝ you have plenty of space over there by the ... ❞ he glances over , clearing his throat . ❝ ... dirt . ❞ so he's a little spacious . what ? he needed more padding ... his body had less ... you know - less . a sigh . ❝ ... fine ... i'll allow it . ❞ he drapes his arms over the drow's , then , tugging him impossibly closer . ❝ ... be a good blanket then ... keep me warm . ❞

[demonwebs-a]

cont. @murderreign

why , look who's all demanding tonight . not that he minds - his greedy little god looks all cute when he's all eager and demanding . ❝ - wear it ? why ... of course i'm wearing it , ❞ was that ever even a question ? the drow pushes out his bottom lip into something of a childish pout , digging into the high collar of his shirt to dig out the hidden necklace , letting the red stone dangle from his forefinger as the light bounces off its cut edges . ❝ you don't really think i'm ever taking this off , do you ? ❞ he pauses , an authoritarian finger pointed serkan's way . ❝ and don't you ever try to cut out that pretty heart from your chest , ever again , you hear me ? ... i like it just the way it is . ❞

[demonwebs-a]

↳ @faeswoon

❝ ... i'm just saying , it's not the worst deal , ❞ vhaalkrin's voice is velvety smooth and persuasive as he gestures , flicking the nail he'd been admiring . it would certainly amuse him to see what unfolds next . ❝ aren't you even a little tempted ? ❞

[demonwebs-a]

cont . @tidesfate

folded arms , a beat of silence drops , and doesn't he look so perpetually unamused ? ❝ really ? ❞ very mature . the inside of his tongue pokes against his cheek , head lolling . disbelief , to see something so utterly logical succumb to what can only be described as a temper tantrum . ❝ you're gonna hiss at me for showing concern ? mr . ' i still must manage this vessel ' ? fine - perish then . ❞ he obviously doesn't mean it , otherwise this conversation would not be happening right now . ❝ ... you know - i haven't seen you sleep a wink since i've been here , ❞ what is it with it and sleep , anyways ? ❝ do you know that your right eye has started to blink slower than your left ? ❞

[demonwebs-a]

all this silence leaves him feeling rather uneasy ; defensive , almost , in the way a drop of tension spreads through his white paper skin , wrapping around the jaggedness of his bones , making them jut against the flesh like buttons in a worn-out shirt , waiting to pop under the rough maneuvering of rough hands . ❝ well ... i am mortal . don't let my irresistible charm and good looks fool you . ❞ his voice is like a silky sheet gliding between fingers , the palpable smoothness of his lilt contrasting against mora's .

he pushes his lips out into something of a begrudging pout , an underlying playfulness to the honed edge of his gaze . ❝ and you should stop digging around in here before you catch something , ❞ it's jest - mostly jest . the curve of his smile sharpens itself with mischief . ❝ gods aren't immune to all this disease , you know ? ... i know quite a few who would be happy to whisk me away if i let them , ❞ oh , his pride and vanity might be outmatched , even amidst his kin - but he wasn't lying , of course . mora wasn't the first godly thing to venture on his path , try and persuade him to stray ... it'd been the only which succeeded , however . ❝ anyways - it doesn't matter . i like you . ❞ he punctuates , leaving little room for anything else , deciding it was best not to dwell on the intricacies of that sentiment ; he would continue on as he has , sitting and pondering could only leave him feeling nauseated . ❝ now ... i need to do something violent , i think . ❞

THERE IS NO RESPONSE GIFTED, BY WORD OR BY MEANS OF MIND. Trust-- - it had no purpose for such a blind action. Prince of Knowledge, to know was all it did and all it was. But when had not answer, IT WOULD GAIN SUCH // NOT STUMBLE THROUGH THE DARKNESS. It fingers through the emotions and thoughts muddying up the mind, tossing aside what it did not need-- - it knew of doubt, of uncertainty, of fascination and devotion. Its prying strays temporarily over that of GRATITUDE, then that of something FRAGILE, BUT VIVID.

IT TURNS OVER THIS FRAGMENT, EXAMINING IT IN ITS UNFAMILIARITY. There was aspects it understood, it had FOUND BEFORE within the minds of others collected by the Tyrant of Memories-- - the enwrapping of self within it produced a fog that even the Knower could not pry. Reminiscent of hunger; but Hermaeus Mora had felt the others hunger, ENJOYED IT. Indulged it... this was stomachs gnaw temporarily satisfied. In that there was something synonymous; almost. Almost that. It is only when a word is presented from the drows own mind to associate it does the Tide King retracts from the thought. Even the HELPLESSNESS encountered does not elate the God, for it is bound to it for reasons beyond what should be. “&– -How very.... mortal.” A simple sentiment is all the Abyssal Cephaliarch offers out in a gravely tone. SO VERY, VERY MORTAL. But a mind wanders... it had seen the vulnerability of such ties before. It had used them // ALBEIT IN THIS FASHION, IT WAS A FIRST. Perhaps more potent it could be; in a rare moment, it can only speculate.

[demonwebs-a]

❝ ... well ? are you just going to stand there eyeing me suspiciously all night ? come now , ❞ the drow leans closer , if only a touch , batting those cinnamon lashes at her coquettishly at her as his honed gaze twinkles with a treacherous kind of docility . it seems as though he wants adulation . ❝ ... don't i deserve a pat on the head at least ? ❞

@caniteblood liked for a starter .

[demonwebs-a]

cont . @tidesfate

snowy locks drape down the length of his back as the drow tilts his head in an attempt to make out the shape of what used to be flesh , organ , now mangled - he sees it , if only because he was explicitly told so : a stomach . ❝ huh . ❞ cannibalism is not necessarily an uncommon sight in the underdark , nor is it particularly discouraged - weeds out the weak , so she preaches . gruesome but - effective . he can't stop staring . he'd killed plenty of haszakkin during his explorations , but he'd never stopped to watch them eat . perhaps he should've . it's tempting to touch his tentacles when they coil like that ... no - that's probably a bad idea . ❝ i get all that , except ... why the stomach ? ❞ as long as it isn't his , he supposes he should be elated , truly ... but curiosity nips at his tongue . ❝ isn't it all ... mushy ? ❞ what does a raw stomach taste like ? somehow , brains looked far more appetizing .

[demonwebs-a]

there is a twitch of irritation on the drow's face --- irritation , only not quite . the fickle emotion is a guise for something else , something a bit more tender he refuses to acknowledge .

❝ ... oh , will you stop making that face ? ❞ it's making him want to empathize . how inconvenient . he blames his pretty face , and the fact he looks like a sad puppy . ❝ nobody else saw anything . let's just ... just not tell anyone . ❞

@musezieren liked for a starter .

[demonwebs]

the blacks of his pupils shrink into thin slits , shaking within red sea of trepidation as he witnesses in perpetual awe , in frozen terror , life seep back into the ulitharid shape ; there should be relief there , but whatever sliver of momentary respite comes is promptly smothered in its cradle , the unbridled violence of its possession leaves no room for anything other than numbing despair as the unraveling of horrors ensue , the distinct sounds of bones splintering and organs pulsing ringing inside his ear , or so it feels like , blackness oozes from its sockets , dripping into the white of his hair like oil on snow , and vhaal'krin watches with a gaping mouth , with unblinking eyes , until he too caves to the discomfort prickling at his mind - dizzying discomfort to him , which for much of the colony , it seems , was agony beyond what their minds could endure .

no clever words flow from his tongue as his jaw unlatches , only a soft , keening whine which propels his body forward , a harsh pounding thudding in the back of his scalp , like a giant pacing rhythms in the corridors of his mind . was it's pain such that it demanded to be felt ? to be exorcised ? he feels himself slouch against the knower's bruised shell , skin adhering to its mucilaginous sap as the drow curls into it with with a weak , low rumbling sound , as if hoping to be engulfed , burrowing until the ache subsides or ceases , he decides . ❝ please stop ... whatever it is you're doing . ❞ the sound of his own voice feels distant , like an echo of itself perpetuated in his own eardrums .

ESCAPING NOT WITHOUT PURPOSE, NOT PURELY REACTIONARY. Awaiting for that tug, that draw to the rest of self without the boundary of a vessel-- - something that was always there until it hadn't been, but the Knower had taken Hope as strange bedfellow that it would feel SOMETHING in the vacancy between. AND YET.... NOTHING CHANGED. NOTHING DID NOT CHANGE.

RETURN NOT A GENTLE ACTION, NOT THAT OF A SLOW AWAKENING. Violent, previously broken down body seeming to FIGHT THE PARASITIC GOD WITHIN. Cracking could be heard, the few still present bones that had managed to remain in internal soup fracturing. Voidial drips falling from the wide eyes-- - overflowing, too much overtaking the body. And eyes themselves // MORE THAN HAD BEEN PRIOR, BUT NON-SYMMETRICAL ON FACE // flickered about seemingly randomly-- - searching, still seemingly searching for something beyond the view of what was visually there. COMPLETELY, DECISIVELY BLIND TO WORLD AROUND. More than that, uncaring.

BUT THE WORLD AROUND WAS NOT FREE OF THE OLD ONES PRESENCE. Above, away from sight and sound of this hallowed cavity, brains within its internal connection began to hemorrhage. Illithids unable to handle the assault of a afflicted mind // COLLAPSING, SOME WITH NOT ENOUGH TIME TO MAKE A NOISE. The lucky that remained standing were few-- - and even that which was not strung to its central cluster were not free. Mind waves like whips unforgiving, even to he who still clung to its side.

“&– - M'ge…..” Less a spoken word even in native tongue, more an expulsion of noise without semblance. DENIAL // REJECTION DRIPPING FROM MAW AND MIND. Refusal to accept that it was all gone-- - could not be. Something else was blocking it, still. Even now. IT COULDN'T BE GONE. THIS COULDN'T BE ALL THAT WAS LEFT.

[demonwebs-a]

cont. @tidesfate

childish glee downpours like summer rain , light and infectious in the way it tugs at the rosy corners of his mouth . ❝ you'd rather i'd impulsively shoved my pretty face between your teeth , do you ? ❞ perpetually amused by its antics , he doesn't even seem too fazed as a sleek tentacle coils , wrapping tight and possessively around the ghastly appendage , maneuvering at whim towards the toothed abyss of its maw . ❝ ah ... and you're going to infuse me with this precious knowledge , are you ? ❞ heat licks at his skin as something dark drips down , sticky and warm , contrasting against the pale marble of his flesh . the gossamer veil of his lashes droops sluggishly as any shred of hesitation promptly dissolves into sparks of excitement and morbid curiosity . ❝ how do you fathom i'd taste ? ❞ he wonders , a contemplative hum on his mellow tongue as his spindly fingers stretch , eager to reach past its narrow constraints , graze against all of its jagged edges . ❝ you think you'd enjoy it ? ❞

[demonwebs-a]

↳ @rhapsodyandwoe liked for a starter .

would you believe him if he told you becoming advisor to an important nobleman wasn't actually the difficult part of his job ? no . that was easy . he spent most of his life studying magic , practicing it , and his appearance couldn't have hurt . falling into the role of advisor of duke looks-terrible-in-green suited just fine , like a glove , really . nobody ever even so much as glanced his way with suspicion . but attending these events ? agonizing . everyone wants his attention . all the time . rivvil are so needy . they grab his arm , they touch his back ; he's thoroughly considered gutting the next person who touches his hair .

his fingertips itch to grab the dagger safely tucked away in his scabbard . sigh . alas ... it'd make too much of a fuss . ❝ i'll be right back , will you be fine on your own ? ❞ vhaal'krin forces his mouth into a practiced smile . ❝ i'll try not to kill anyone . ❞ he mumbles , and when asked 'what was that?' promptly reassures : ❝ i said i have to go find someone . ❞ he did not . he just needs some seclusion . it's getting hard to breathe .

wisps of white sway down the small of his back , disappearing into the fabric of his gown as he struts off to the balcony . at least it's not sunny . the moon is pretty ... he supposes . not that he'd ever admit it out loud . ah . more surface plants ... were these edible ? they're so bright and lively . and red . same shade as his eyes . vhaal'krin leans over the stone railing , analyzing the rose from up close before giving into the urge to touch it , only for it to accidentally prick his finger . ❝ stupid plant ... ❞ he grumbles , frowning while he sucks on the puncture wound . it's official : he hates it here . ❝ are these things always so dangerous ? ❞

[demonwebs-a]

↳ @faerunscursed : sorry about this wyll

❝ you have better not come here to scold me , little hero , ❞ the poised draw is quick to warn , his legs crossed over each other , perched high atop a pile of rocks , ankle swinging idly . watching . always watching . he had just about enough of that until the next new moon . ❝ i am not above kissing you to shut you up . ❞ and that is a threat .

with the gait of a feline , vhaal'krin hops from above , landing on his feet without rising dust . a perfect landing , right in front of the blade . he dusts off his armor , looking borderline amused . ❝ i am technically your elder , you know ? ❞ now , if wyll had said that , he'd be deeply offended . but since he's the one saying , it's allowed . ❝ so , young man ... i say your pretty face should stop doing that thing where it's ... um , you know . frowning . ❞ upset . that's the word he's looking for . ❝ i've decided i like you ... we should go out . have some fun . ❞ a flame flickers in the red of his eyes as the word fun touches his tongue .

[demonwebs-a]

a night breeze blowing from beds of roses below , and the flimsy layers of fabric draped around his lean silhouette fluttering , like a pale moth caught by the playful wind who wishes to make its presence known ; the murmurs of the party grow distant like a heartbeat as they grow closer , the night is quiet and unflinching without the ballroom music to fill the space . the drow indulges in the nightly perfume that wafts their way through the vegetation , the headstones , and bushes and trees , there is a melancholy wrapped within their sweetness that feels particularly familiar amidst the unfamiliar . death he is used to , she is everywhere - the one constant wherever he goes . he likes it , he thinks . it makes him quite a bit nostalgic .

his gaze briefly escapes his company , fleeing to the stars , their light bouncing off his red hues like it's the first time he's looking at them . ❝ it's pretty here . ❞ a softer sentiment on his tongue than he's used to , tastes almost morose with the bitter aftertaste of wine clinging to his throat , or perhaps it is the lingering knowledge that this , like every other beautiful thing , is fleeting . ❝ not a lot of stars where i come from ... ❞ or any , really . he couldn't say he cared for most of the surface's 'wonders' , but the moon ... the stars ... he wouldn't deny how even he wished to be lost up there , sometimes .

his attention is swept back into focus with a gentle swipe of the elf's thumb - his eyes swivel , matching the red of his mouth which now stains his thumb . he swipes his tongue against his bottom lip , tilting his head with simmering inquisitiveness as he leans forward , watching how tenderly the moonlight kisses the elf's cheek , almost like he belongs to the night . ❝ how do it look , then ? ❞ the drow quips , smiling sheepishly , sanctified against the moon . ❝ living up to your expectations yet ? ❞ that seems to be his inescapable fate , it seems . ❝ because i can try harder - ❞ he adds playfully , leaning impossibly close before pulling away with a giggle , holding firmly to his vampire's hand as he climbs onto the ledge for better framing . ❝ how do i look now ? ❞ he asks again , bringing his shoulder to his chin as he poses against the illuminated sky . ❝ ... like someone you'd ask to dance or ... should i keep trying ? ❞

“ no? i'd never hope to break you, darling. but i'd be lying if i said i wasn't tempted to undo those threads of yours, piece by piece, ” as astarion watches and waits with an open hand, he feels the intimation of guilt begin to seep in. it's an unavoidable feeling each time, although, one he had become better at concealing as victim after victim was plucked from whatever net he had ensnared them in and handed over to his master for feeding. his fingers begin to curl inward, because this was different. this elf wasn't supposed to be the one misguided and led to the slaughter. astarion had played along, pursued out of his own interest and it had been so ... easy, assuming that same identity, like recounting the back of his hand. however, the compelled sense of servitude remained, gnawing at the back of his mind as if being puppeteered on strings by an invisible hand. as if cazador was standing right behind him, breathing down his neck, and astarion could conveniently place the blame anywhere and everywhere but on himself. the worst part was that he couldn't.

the moment the guilt grips at him full force, as his expression begins to crumble, his offer is taken― as lips press and tease at his knuckles, sealing the deal with a kiss. the slightest tremor by his mouth is masked by a smile. a century ago he might have anticipated a night of fun and nothing more, that he could enjoy his time with his one-time, night-time lover and let it be a memory to keep for him and only him for however long he had left under cazador's thrall. however, his master would never let that be his alone. “ can you? i suppose there's only one way to find out, ” the others' impatience is infectious, and astarion tugs, his turn to land a kiss on the others' knuckles, before leading him down the curved corridor; windows decorated with translucent curtains to tease the starry night, antiques and gothic paintings sat in between.

the balcony he leads him to overlooks the gardens and graveyard beyond, far enough from the party that it's become a distant murmur and allowing for their own private pocket of the estate, away from prying eyes. “ it's a beautiful night. i wanted to see you out here under the stars, ” he urges his company closer with a gentle tug of his hand, he, who's silver hair rivals the glow of the moon. despite all the turmoil, astarion revels in this scene; to be in the company of a beautiful elf under the stars, to indulge in whatever they wish― to be swept up in pretend. his hand raises to brush a thumb against the others' lips, wiping away the blood red stain of wine that had lingered from before. “ do you get to see them often? ” he purposefully stalls, eyes flitting up in a gesture to the stars above, his now wine-stained thumb held in front of him.