#˚₊𓆩༺🕷༻𓆪₊�� script — thread.

[demonwebs]

↳ @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]

❝ ... 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]

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]

↳ @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 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.

[demonwebs]

↳ @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]

❝ all this plotting ... betrayal ... death , ❞ though the words should should weight heavy , and their meaning is not completely lost on the drow , he sounds about as excited as a kitten , eager to pounce on something . ❝ ... makes you rather homesick , doesn't it ? ❞

@spiderwarden liked for a starter .

[demonwebs]

folded arms , defensive posture ; but isn't that how he greets most people ? with defensiveness ? with suspicion ? with a cuttting tongue ? some might say he's come a long way , as there's no blade pointed to their throat . ❝ you're agitating shadow . ❞ the drow informs dryly , brushing his thumb against he fuzzy heel of the massive spider on his left , whose restless eyes seemed to never stop moving .

he draws his knee closer to himself , but his posture seems to remain , for the most part , relaxed , even if a bit wary . ❝ ... can't you control that --- thing ? ❞

@fortune-feather liked for a starter .

[demonwebs]

good , good - at least she's a good one , capable of acknowledging her faults . he rubs his tongue against the roof of his mouth . ew ... hair .

❝ ... aren't you ? ❞ he blinks , unwitting , flashing those red eyes at her like he was asking the more obvious thing in the world . ❝ you're sweet ... and you're pink ... why wouldn't you taste like cotton candy ? ❞ a cruel joke , if anyone asks him . or perhaps a survival tactic - so she wouldn't be eaten by hungry drow with a sweet tooth , lost in the wild .

pat , pat . she'll still get that - for her efforts . ❝ ... please do . i'd very much like to eat you . ❞

    It  isn't  her  fault.    Yet,  Babette  feels  like  she  should  be  hold  accountable  for  it.  A  troubled  look  to  the  left,  then  the  right.  Head  bows  in  the  slightest  as  the  hexblood  watches  him  inspect  her  lavender  locks.  A  little  soggy.  (  Ew  ) 

She  is  so  so  so  sorry  .  .  .

    ❝  I  didn't  know  I  was  supposed  to  taste  like  cotton  candy.  I  .  .  .  will  work  on  it  in  the  future.  Apologies. ❞     She  will  shampoo  her  hair  with  concentrated  caramel  next  time.

[demonwebs]

❝ i wasn't playing . i was ... testing his stamina . ❞ for once , the drow seems slightly caught off guard ; his eyes avoid contact , and the keen eye might even spot be a slight , blueish tinge to his cheeks and the pointed tips of his ears as he fidgets , and abruptly tosses the ball into the woods . ❝ ... you know . in case we need his help . in combat . ❞

@infernaliscor liked for a starter .

[demonwebs]

within the vast , evergreen depths of the forest , a cascade of water floods along trees and branches billow in the wind , drowning out the sounds of his heavy footsteps crunching against the soil . the drow pauses , tired , wounded --- but not helpless . no ; the blood on his clothes is not his own . it's not even from a singular creature . but he is tired . and perhaps it is this weariness that clouds his judgement , however momentarily , as crouches down by the river , leaning into his pale reflection , eager to wash his face , neglecting to notice the scurrying group of foxes that vanish into the dense vegetation .

sly creatures . he has a begrunging respect for them , not that he'd ever care to admit out loud .

❝ mm ... ? ❞ his ears perk up as a voice in the back of his mind ripples ; a warning , telling him to be wary . he pulls back , fingers trained to reach for his dagger as his red eyes glance over the bump shoulder inquisitively , water dripping from his palms , and his face .

he's not alone ... he feels it . but what is here with him ?

@vulpesse liked for a starter .

[demonwebs]

❝ ... come on , teach me . ❞ the red jewels of his eyes shimmer predatorily as attempts to persuade his companion , peering over a long veil of brown lashes over the bump of her shoulder . ❝ we're a team , aren't we ? ... the better i am , the better we are . ❞

@dragondiscipled liked for a starter .

[demonwebs]

❝ ah ... good ... i think you should ... come . ❞ the word wraps and twist around his lacy tongue , stripping it of its innocent connotations to dress in a far more lascivious undertone . desire scales up his throat , hunger frothing under his tongue ; he likes the sound of that , the vibrant , obscene images it conjures : that lovely , innocent face contorted into a thousand , different , lewd expressions , begging , crying , pleading . he wonders if his tears taste like honey , if his skin will unspool like milk under the lapping of his tongue . claws digging into flesh , bone straining against skin , teeth tearing into these layers of tame docility until his mouth pools with blood . will he taste like a burst of sunlight glittering down the well of his throat ? bodies writhing creamily on pale sheets .

these vivid reveries had him clutching a little harder to his lamb , a look of hunger about him , a twinkle of watery malice rippling in the vibrant depth of his eyes , those violent hues bearing into his own with only ill - intent . he pushes his thumb against his bottom lip , cushions it there . he's so nervous , he's so cute - if that red on his cheeks continues to tempt his senses so carelessly , his eyes might willingly mistake them for a ripe , juicy apple , and then - oh , then he doesn't know if he'll be able to resist the overpowering urge to sink his teeth into them . what then ? he'll just have to kiss them better with those sweet , saccharine kisses finnic loves so much , over and over until he's forgiven ... and he would forgive him , wouldn't he ?

oh . curious and curiouser . ❝ ... not many , then ? ❞ something about the honeyed lilt , the drawl in the way he says that tells you he quite enjoyed learning that information . call it possessiveness if you will - he won't deny it , it makes this all the more - special , doesn't it ? ❝ ... and you've never ... wanted to ... ? ❞ he pries , fully aware he's prying , with the unwavering confidence of someone who's seldom used to being rejected - he lets his greedy little fingers trail down his neck and the buttons of his shirt , toying with the first , threatening to undo it . ❝ when you're all timid like that ... you make me want to hold you hostage , little lamb ... ❞ now , if he'd ever be willing to release him on good behavior - that remains to be seen .

❝ ... yes ? ❞ he echoes the agreement back to the boy in a ripple of sweet , contained excitement , his own mouth threatening to curve into something eager . he's trying to flee - but he won't let him . the drow lays his head down upon his thighs , chasing after his fugitive gaze , dragging his spindly fingers down the length of his chest , feeling out his form , languidly caressing his thigh , his knee , demanding attention . ❝ you're the cutest human thing i've ever seen . ❞ alone . now , why would he want that , if he could spend the night with him instead ? he watches him get all flushed , and coy , and he nips at his knees , clawing at the fabric . that can't help - but it's the best he can do not to grab him and bite him all over right there . ❝ ... i'll come find you ... tonight ... make room for me , okay ? ❞

nic’s  breath  hitched  at  the  look  in  vhaal’s  eyes—dark,  intense,  with  a  glint  that  bordered  on  predatory—and  as  vhaal  leaned  closer,  that  sharp,  wolfish  grin  tugging  at  his  mouth,  nic  felt  every  last  bit  of  composure  slip  through  his  fingers.  the  heat  in  his  cheeks  was  unbearable  now.  his  heart  pounded  so  loudly  in  his  ears  he  was  sure  vhaal  must  hear  it,  too.  the  forest  around  them  faded  into  the  background;  nothing  existed  but  this  moment,  this  gaze.

when  vhaal’s  clawed  hand  reached  for  his  face,  nic’s  skin  prickled,  bracing  for  the  scratch  of  talons  that  never  came.  instead,  vhaal’s  touch  was  surprisingly  gentle,  the  tip  of  his  claw  grazing  his  cheek  with  the  lightness  of  snowfall.  nic  fought  not  to  flinch;  there  was  something  intoxicating  in  the  contrast  of  danger  and  tenderness,  like  stepping  to  the  edge  of  a  blade  but  not  yet  falling. 

he  dared  to  look  up,  catching  vhaal’s  gaze—intense,  wolfish,  yet  laced  with  a  tenderness  he  almost  didn’t  trust  himself  to  believe.  “i—I’m  not  exactly  the  ‘running’  type,”  he  mumbled,  his  voice  barely  steady.  “more  the  ‘stumbling  blindly  toward  trouble’  kind,  if  i’m  honest.”  he  chuckled  awkwardly,  hoping  to  downplay  his  own  fascination,  but  his  tone  betrayed  him,  too  full  of  nervous  excitement.

his  heart  leaped  as  he  blurted  out,  “ yes!  i’d—I’d  love  to  come  to  you.”  his  own  eagerness  startled  him,  too  raw  and  obvious,  and  he  immediately  felt  the  heat  deepen  in  his  face,  turning  his  cheeks  crimson.  he  quickly  dropped  his  gaze,  his  excitement  dimming  into  an  embarrassed  smile  as  he  cleared  his  throat,  trying  to  compose  himself,  though  he  knew  he  was  failing.

vhaal’s  compliment  echoed  in  his  mind,  each  syllable  stirring  something  new  and  wild  within  him.  he’d  never  been  called  pretty  before—smart,�� yes,  but  pretty?  the  word  clung  to  him,  and  he  found  himself  savoring  it,  his  chest  tight  with  a  strange,  giddy  warmth.

and  then  vhaal’s  words  hung  in  the  air— surely,  you've  seen  plenty  of  shirtless...—and  nic  froze,  choking  on  any  semblance  of  a  cool  response.  he  hadn’t  seen  plenty  of  shirtless  anythings,  really.  he’d  been  too  preoccupied  with  books  and  rivalry  with  his  sister  to  worry  about  romance or anything that would sate his primal needs.  he  cleared  his  throat,  mortified,  and  managed  a  nervous  laugh.  “i…  well,  i  guess  i’ve  spent  more  time  with  books  than,  uh…  people,”  he  mumbled,  fidgeting,  gaze  fixed  on  the  ground.

still,  he  couldn’t  ignore  the  way  vhaal’s  presence  drew  him  in,  his  pulse  quickening  with  every  shared  glance.  nic’s  eyes  flickered  up  again,  risking  a  glimpse  of  vhaal’s  intense  stare.  there  was  a  rawness  to  it  that  made  him  feel  both  daring  and  vulnerable,  an  instinctive  urge  to  close  the  gap  between  them.  even  flustered,  he  looked  back  down,  swallowing  hard.

“yes…”  he  ventured,  voice  barely  more  than  a  whisper,  “maybe  i  could…  read  to  you  tonight.”  his  cheeks  flared  as  he  said  it,  feeling  ridiculous—offering  to  read  to  vhaal  seemed  laughable,  but  he  clung  to  the  idea,  desperate  for  any  excuse  to  hold  onto  the  drow’s  gaze. “ as thank you ... for helping me and all but , it's cool if you want to be left alone . no pressure . ” cue an awkward laugh .

his  heart  beat  wildly  as  he  waited  for  vhaal's  response,  his  entire  world  shrinking.  he  wondered  if  he’d  just  bared  too  much  of  himself that would freak vhaal out or see him as a joke.

[demonwebs]

↳ @ferinehuntress : for karlach because mwah <3

thack ! the pages of his book flip closed on cue as noise fills the camp once more , and the drow readjusts his lean frame , previously draped over its seat , languidly , now outstretching like a cat as he wills himself to get up , unhurridly , and go for a greeting , make nice . he adjusts his face to , boyish , gleeful , devoid of malice .

❝ karlach ! ❞ the cheery lilt leaps from his tongue easily . she's usually the easiest to talk to . you might not assume that from a first glance , but it's true . she makes room for everyone , that one . well , almost everyone . ❝ productive day , heh ? ❞ he spares a glance at the backpack , but doesn't pry too much . ❝ anything tasty ? ❞ implied : can i have it ?

she's not ... her usual cheerful self today . in fact - she looks ... about as serious as he's ever seen her . ❝ ... what ? ❞ that's concerning . he vaguely remembers getting that look from one of his teachers before ... well , he didn't remember much afterwards , only darkness and a pounding headache as he came to . ❝ what's your face making that face ? ❞ he arches a single brow , leaning closer as he attempts to decipher it . ❝ ... whatever it is , it isn't my fault , you know ? ❞

[demonwebs]

❝ must your face always make that face ? ❞ the younger drow drawls in a melancholic fashion , dragging his tongue across honeyed notes in a way that feels almost theatrical . yes , yes -- he's aware his companion is not fond of his choice of armor , still . they're stuck together , aren't they ? ❝ ... don't look so upset , it works wonders , trust me . it does a wonderful job at distracting the enemies , ❞ cue the little pointed smirk , veiled with implications . ❝ ... now , is this long face only about me , or is there something else on your mind , mm ? you can share . ❞

@starlyht liked for a starter .

[demonwebs]

❝ i'm just saying ... poison is so - impersonal , ❞ vhaalkrin drawls casually , his pale wrist flickering as he ponders over the idea briefly . ❝ now , a poisoned dagger -- maybe . shi'ndra ... back me up . ❞

@menzoberras liked for a starter .