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bakerstreet2021-10-26 06:21 am
sarabi) wrote in bakerstreet2021-10-26 06:21 am
Entry tags:
shipping picture promts
shipping picture prompts
| o1. comment with your character and prefs in a top level. o2. reply to others, complete with pictures and gifs! o3. cook up something shippy from those inspirational ingredients. |
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no subject
It isn't Raine's fault for drawing the subject forward, just Astarion's need to know everything. To control everything. To be sure of his footing before he takes that first step.
"...all right." He breathes at last, settling down through his shoulders once more. "We'll leave just as soon as you've recovered, then."
Which, admittedly, given Astarion's fervor, might take a while.
"But what did you mean about being surprised to find I'd accept you like this?" Asked idly as he threads pale fingertips through thicker fur, winding it back and forth at leisure. "You're a lovely little thing, my dear. And oh so very well cultivated."
If you catch his entirely licentious meaning...
cw: prostitution mention
It's so nice to be touched, to be petted.
The question, however, makes their ears droop a little.
"I've found that the people I've been with have... seen me more as an animal than a willing partner, if I've dared show any of these... more cat-like traits. Particularly, the face and... the dick. Most want to see a partner that isn't too dissimilar, so.... It's easier to hide them. To-- pretend that I'm not as animal-like as I really am.
"And sometimes my looks are so elf-like that I've been unhappily surprised when the fur came out and my partner for the evening was a hunter. So it's just.. easier to hide.
"Even my late husband didn't.. accept that part of me."
Raine's mouth strains a little.
"So it surprised me, that out of hundreds of years of one-night stands and selling myself for a free meal and money, and a whopping two intimate relationships, that I've found the first person who thinks I'm lovely to look like this.
"I never thought it would happen, and.. I have no idea how to feel about it. Other than... happy? And kind of sad? I'm not sure."
no subject
It isn't like Astarion to share anything.
For Raine, he makes an exception.
"Anyway, it's not as if I could ever let the nobles Cazador had me hunting— I use the term loosely— catch on to what I was. They'd have had me killed at first realization, and not only would I then be in an irritating amount of danger, but in a best case scenario of escape, I'd still return to Cazador empty-handed. Without his dinner."
Which, naturally:
"A fate quite literally worse than death, I might add."
no subject
They don't need blood as much as Astarion does, but they won't question this gift, and they lick attentively to make sure they don't spill a single drop. As requested, they only take enough to feel more lively, to bring back a little of their warmth that had been leeched away. They then morph back their tongue to a more human texture as they lick at the wound while it seals, not wanting to delay Astarion's ability to heal, but unable to help but chase the last few droplets that escape, and also wanting to soothe any ache away. The warmth and pleasure that fills them is enough to make it easier to move. To think.
They know how it felt to be deprived of this sort of strong feeling, even though they did not find themself as a parched husk or something upon waking.
"Admittedly, I never walked in shoes like yours. I can only imagine the life and hells you have lived with Cazador." Raine gently squeezes his hand and nuzzles into his palm, sharing body heat, touch.
"Regardless, I believe you. I hear your pain and I will not forget it."
After a moment, they lean up to gently brush their nose against his. Their's is damp and a little chilly, but there's no denying the warmth in the rest of their body, nor the more attentive glint that's returned to their eyes.
"And we will both come out of this alive. So don't worry about me declaring some self-sacrificial shit like "I'll kill Cazador even if it kills me!" That's for trope and tripe-heavy novels. And while for decent reading when absolutely bored, I'm not about to inflict my worst-lived nightmare on someone else."
They flash their teeth at him, smiling in defiance of the very idea of being left behind, or leaving someone else behind.
"We've both endured too much for that, I think.
"Besides, I quite like you, and I wouldn't be able to do anything more together with you if I'm dead, so there's another pro for the "staying alive: pros and cons" board."
That, and he'd need to find someone else he trusts to protect him.
Raine's gaze softens again, tail curling affectionately, just a little bit tighter, against Astarion's skin.
"I'm glad you chose me."
no subject
"Do yourself a favor and don't imagine them." If freedom's within his grasp now, there's no point in it, after all. Looking back on old horrors— or letting Raine do the same.
"But I'm glad you're not suddenly possessed of stupidity and heroism in equal amounts, given the way infatuation has a habit of twisting common sense into its absolute antithesis."
Pros and cons being what they are, Astarion favors being alive. An extension granted to the only person he's come to know outside captivity.
Though his brow quirks there just slightly, painted with curiosity.
"...chose you?"
In needing a guard? In companionship? In the simplicity of sex? There's too much his mind tries to use to fill in the blanks, and what it leaves him with is nothing in turn.
I guess this icon will do hhh. I need to make more/draw more.
"Most people see a small, frail elf when they look at me. There were a few other people who would have taken up the challenge you offer, based on their weaponry and, frankly, smells.
"Instead, you looked at me."
Their ears fold slightly as they process the memories, and then tilt forward again.
"I've wondered why that is. Not after we started talking, but before. Yes, my looks lend to some element of surprise, but... What made you choose the whore on the street rather than a proper, clearly-armed adventurer? ...Was it because I called out to you the moment I saw you? Or maybe you wanted to see what was behind my cover? ...Or was it because I was the only decently-groomed one there?"
They'd nearly propositioned him, but that would have caused a conflict with another client - one that they'd happily dumped since money hadn't yet changed hands. The moment he'd opened his mouth they knew that he was another variant of vampire (and dear god is his voice lovely to hear.) Thrall or not. They'd wrapped him up in some of their magic since then, to keep his autonomy safe from Cazador's reaches. But the threat won't be over until that man is very, very dead. Well, dead-er.
Their gaze softens, regarding him tenderly.
"But, for whatever reason it was, I'm grateful. Glad. Even with all the trouble we run into together, I'm not taking any of this for granted. Ever. Maybe it's strange, but I haven't had this much fun since my long slumber. And I don't just mean the sex, but the sex is a lovely bonus."
no subject
“tried to, anyway.”
Maybe not at first. Not as long as he was passing for the common notion of a living, breathing, mortal elf, but eventually— either through combat or confrontation— something would have given way.
“I might not’ve known what you were exactly, but I knew what I was safer near.” Someone like him. Someone at the mercy of stiff odds and their own tenacity, and a keen understanding of risk inherent.
“So. Don’t go disparaging yourself, my beautiful little lap cat: your talents certainly...satisfy my requirements.”
Satisfy. Get it?
“No more eternal naps for you from here on out.”
no subject
“No more eternal naps for you from here on out.”
Would it be wrong that they hear, "You won't need to sleep off any grief because I'm not going to do anything to make you cry,"?
Raine's body shudders with an urge that it can't produce,purring crackling with stop-starting, and they reflexively cover their eyes with a hand, ears tightly pinned back. Their heart fills to the brim with the warmth of those implied and outright-spoken words.
"Now I can't shift back, ever. I'm going to cry the moment I do," they murmur, voice choked, strained, and perhaps very slightly dramatic. "You're way too sweet to me and I can't handle it. I can't--"
Their thoughts similarly stop, then start again, and Raine's breath shudders again while they try to calm down again.
"I may... joke about it often enough, but... I did only sleep that long out of grief, back then. I couldn't-- couldn't handle the loss of someone dear. The pain. And subconsciously, I let myself escape. No matter what it cost me. Time, self-viewed beauty, experiences, the other bonds of mortals I liked, income."
They drag their fingertips through their own fur, leaving only one eye to peer at Astarion, brow furrowed as best as it can in this shape. Trying to quickly exert some sense of levity, they force a smile, though it quickly becomes natural simply out of fondness alone. It's impossible to stay fully upset around him for long.
"You're lucky I like you. I'd be so, so terribly displeased otherwise with all these emotional upheavals you're prompting out of me."
For now, they've completely forgotten about the satisfy joke.
no subject
Content to bask in the mercy of whatever shelter they can claim, for as long as they can claim it.
He slips his hand atop the crest of their forehead, smoothing it down to fall along the underside of a long, flattened ear, as though petting an oversized kitten.
“Oh my dearest little thing,” he sighs, smile warm and fitted in place against the edges of his own expression.
“Rest assured, I meant every word I said— even with the newfound benefit of context.”
A beat, before:
“Well, so long as we remain out of Cazador’s reach, that is. Otherwise I can’t make promises regarding abstaining from misery, given that it’s what he deals in.”
no subject
"Oh, we will remain out of his reach as long as we need to. I'll only vouch for getting close once we can kill him, even if I have to call in every favor I have. And the spell I wove for you to keep your will as your own can only be undone by me, or if I die. The latter of which isn't happening. And the former, I never will without your... explicit order."
At the very least, it will leave him immune to Cazador's will once they run into him again.
For now, they rub their head against his hand with a sigh, tongue flicking out to wet their nose and lick up a faint remnant of their earlier activities.
"Mmm, I can't keep it a surprise anymore. In the light of such a heavy topic - because as wise as it is to talk about him, I just need some time to reset my head - when I warp us over, I implore you to admire yourself in the mirrors of my abode when you feel up for it. They work on, well, our kind. My mother was never really bothered by it, but I did get rather irritated at only seeing a hazy version of myself. So I enchanted them - and broke many, many mirrors in the process - over the years until the image was crystal clear.
"I have, after all, caught you trying to take glances at yourself. And I do believe I have some hand mirrors on hand as well with the same effect. If you like any of them, please take one to keep. Or two. I like a few of them so those might be off limits."
So, offering something for Astarion to feel excited about? Why not? Certainly, it's a better topic than Cazador and misery. They've just hit capacity at this point. Not that they won't listen if Astarion still needs to mention something.
"I also have one right. above. my. bed," they add, as if uttering some forbidden secret. "If you wish, you can join me in it when we rest."
no subject
But it's the latter that draws his attention all too quickly to be ignored.
How long he's wanted, more than anything else, to remember his own face.
A pity it'll still be altered so. That there's no undoing what's been done, and no retracing the years Cazador cruelly took— but if he cares to be so picky when faced with the opportunity to finally know himself once more, it certainly doesn't show. His tone soft. Careful, in fact, as he tentatively settles into something akin to hope.
"How long?" Astarion asks, sounding almost petulant for his own impatience. "Until you're ready to leave?"
no subject
"Whenever we're ready to get up, we'll go immediately. I only need a moment to write the spell on the floor."
Gently, they drag their fingertips through his hair, gaze slightly shuttered in happiness.
"I hope that you see yourself in the warm way I see you."
While they focus on Astarion, Raine manifests another shadowy feline, and it's easy enough to channel their magic to have the feline write the spell atop the floor. A vivid violet color emits with each touch of its paw, each foreign stroke of writing holding that glow within the two-person-wide circle it's housed in. The magic gently alights their air with a sensation almost like static - but, fortunately, without any hair-frizzing effect.
no subject
So there’s no initial attempt made to dress when he slowly, gingerly pulls away from his partner, stretching once risen and moving to his pack to start fitting scattered trinkets back into its lined interior.
“Like I said: I always knew you were the right choice, darling.” Shirt shrugged loose across his shoulders, smile easy when he adds.
“And as for the rest? We’ll both just have to see.”
no subject
Raine rises, themself, as Astarion starts putting his shirt on, going so far as to retrieve the catnip ball and stuff it into a skirt pocket. It's been just long enough of a time that it makes their body warm slightly, but short enough that the effect is distinctly dulled, body still lounging an afterglow-like state.
"Is that a challenge?" they idly ask with a soft laugh. making no effort to dress at all, and going so far as to shove every article of their stray clothing into their own pack. There's no real need to dress while they're covered in fur, after all. Getting dressed again is simply a matter of pulling their clothing back out of the, in short, pocket dimension that their shadow contains via magic.
Besides, with the ebbing afterglow of it all, there isn't really anything lewd at all to see when their fur isn't dotted with semen and slicked with their sweat and the still-lovely, gentle scent of lilac.
"I welcome it all the same."
Shouldering the pack, the spell itself is woven. Raine passes by Astarion in their approach towards it, brushing an affectionate kiss to his upper arm just to avoid stopping him from what he's doing. From there, Raine idly stands at one of its far ends, tail swaying idly, arched happily. The magic softly crackles like a fire at the contact, though there's no heat, and Raine idly stretches their back toes, claws lightly scratching against the floor.
"When you're ready, stand beside me, hold onto me for safety, and we'll be off. It's a spell that's influenced by thoughts and memories of places of those using it. Even you can manipulate where we go. But as the caster, I have greater control over it. And if you anchor yourself to me, then our location is set to where I guide us."
They smile at him sheepishly, one canine showing for it.
"But if you ever want to practice taking control of this spell, we can do that after we're safe. I can also teach this magic to you, if you want. Any of it, or all of it."
Once they're ready to leave, Raine takes them. The magic gently crackles, and there's a sensation of being pulled downward. Through the dark, and rippling flickers of color as if one just closed their eyes, but cannot directly see those floating phantoms.
Their feet sink into a plush rug when they arrive, the gentle scents of vanilla and, much more subtly, cornflower, in the air. The guard railing of a spiral staircase is beside them, an area closed off with what looks like black-dyed cotton curtains adhered to the ceiling. With a tiny spark of magic, several oil lamps light at once. The area they're in seems to be some sort of makeshift lounge, with pillows and blankets scattered about, with a trinkets and book shelf lining the wall. It's mostly filled with ten or so books on various topics, but also adorned with various loose jewels, trinkets, bits and bobs, a small black pearl, and even a pair of wedding bands held together on a single gold chain.
There are some windows that are shuttered completely closed, and even a doorway leading outside. It has an old feeling to it, but there's definitely magic at work keeping it both intact and guarded from the outside.
"Well, welcome to my home. Make yourself comfortable as you like. Bedroom and bathing area are behind the curtains. If you want your own space, there are a lot of rooms one floor down, so you can pick what you like if you want. Library's on the floors below. Every room has at least one mirror. Up here, there's three, plus hand mirrors."
They grin cheekily.
As it is, the whole place hums gently with constant magic, even closing the place off from all outside sounds. It's quiet, but not silent.
Raine's scent is everywhere - and at least somewhat more cloyingly so close to the curtained-off rooms. This entire space doesn't have a single hard wall beyond the limits of the building's exterior sides.
no subject
And then the world itself shifts.
Warps. Fades. Ebbs, gravity itself twisting until everything comes bursting back to vivid life— only changed.
Instead of rotted wood, the air is filled with the scent of parchment and magic, vanilla and cornflower, all overlaid with the now-familiar catch of Raine’s own distinctively pleasant smell.
He doesn’t last a second standing still.
Footsteps quick, he flits in awe from the railings to the shelves, stare darting rapidly from one fixed point to the next.
And when it ends, his meandering journey, Raine will find him stock still in front of a looking glass— slender fingers set and roaming just along the rise of his cheek.
Breathless, he barely blinks.
no subject
Raine catches up somewhat to Astarion, finding him looking at himself in the mirror - actually able to after so long. The werecat finds themself smiling for it, though staying out of the immediate range of the mirror's reflection so Astarion an admire himself alone.
There will be time for quips and commentary later. This is Astarion's moment to process himself, and Raine is not going to intrude so swiftly as to break the moment.
Out of habit, they shed most of their feline looks, reverting to humanoid shape, though the soft ears and tail remain manifested. There is vulnerability in this - it will be easier for Astarion to put together the various shifts in their body language with a more human face to go with it.
But... that's okay, too. There's the desire to be understood. To be known.
And Raine is all too aware of that "my love" comment. It's the first time a possessive term has been added to such language from him - and it's impossible for Raine to have not noticed; they do the same thing. How uncanny it is that they have such similar verbal quirks and yet are so different!
The lull gives them time to process this too. The implication of not only being wanted, but kept.
It leaves them slightly trembling. Are they deserving of that? From Astarion? Certainly, he knows what he wants and that's what Raine also adores about him. They know, however, that there are no guarantees unless they ask, and they are hesitant to ask here and now. Perhaps later, as the dust settles?
Raine observes the full room of the place that had also been their crypt for a time - the old bed thrown out for this new one, sheets and decor changed to start anew and give themself breathing room from the past. Sleeping the centuries away provided some respite; their sleeping mind processing the pain and working through it in ways their awake mind refused.
Astarion occupies the same space as someone else, but stands so differently and apart from that person that the thought is swift and fleeting; there's no comparison at all beyond the simplicity of the location. They look nothing alike from each other - Finley's darker and rugged, handsome features have no comparison to Astarion's vulpine and snake-sleek looks, like that of a snowy fox with such pale colors, accented by deeply red eyes that Raine has more than once felt it's possible to gleefully drown in.
Pushing from the wall, Raine starts to approach after what feels like several long moments, warm hand reaching out to skim against Astarion's clothed back in gentle greeting - and settling there if Astarion doesn't retreat from that touch.
"Beautiful," they murmur, looking at his face through his crystal clear reflection. So intent they are to look at him, they don't notice the open, wholehearted adoration on their own face.
"I'm so happy you're able to see yourself, for yourself, after so long."
no subject
Where what Astarion had expected only brings him immeasurable dissatisfaction.
He'd wanted— he doesn't know what he'd wanted. To look in the mirror and find something recognizable? Something beyond his own changed features, as though all the memories he'd lost might somehow be waiting for him? That isn't how it works, and he should've known that long before he held the glass up to peer so deeply into it.
But even so, this was a gift.
More than what he'd ever thought he'd know in the eternity left to him by Cazador. That long-cast shadow, eclipsing everything else.
"It's..." His start is slow, expression indecipherable as he tips his chin lower— then to one side— as though trying to process what's there before him.
In the end, he only offers the truth.
"Not what I expected."
no subject
It is, however, an absolutely intimate moment that Astarion is letting them see, and they can appreciate the trust that allows them to linger in such a moment as this. It may also be more than this - Raine isn't in Astarion's boots, after all.
...Maybe it's not entirely comparable, to briefly think of how Astarion so openly accepted their own... different looks, and how-- well, it's not acceptance on another he's looking for. But clearly they both had some sort of romanticized hope that he'd see himself and recognize something. Instead, he looks at himself, not as someone who preens and knows their own face, but that of seeing himself for the first time, in a way.
Raine takes a moment to respond, to try to think of better words. Smarter ones. Ones that don't instill a sense of baseless, sentimental hope, but something real that he can hold onto.
Their voice quiets, uncertain.
"For what it's worth, it's the charming face I saw and thought might be a good time. Lovely red eyes that I thought I might just tip and fall into, the cheek I couldn't resist touching when I flirted with you. The smile I was drawn to, and.. wanted to kiss."
Their cheeks burn a little, and they need a moment to look away, for just a few seconds, to not feel as if their own loud mouth is going to plunge them into some suddenly icy water. It doesn't feel like the wrong thing to say, exactly, but the worry is there. Like they're walking along a very narrow plank while uncertain if they're returning to their own ship or boarding a foe's.
Raine's voice is still softened, hesitant, not wanting to push or pull any particular reaction, but.. offering a vulnerability for a vulnerability. They're not sure how else to offer any sort of reassurance that they actually want to.
Because they're not sure how else to respond to this, and oh do they wish they knew.
"Curled, moonlit hair I wanted to rake my fingers through, to see if it was as soft as I imagined it to be. Elegant ears I wanted to tease and whisper filth into. However much or little you'd permit me.
"You've had me quite ensnared the moment we met. With those looks of yours. That I knew I couldn't -- no, I didn't desire to refuse you in the slightest.
"For what it's worth, you're dashingly handsome, and I don't get tired of looking at you."
no subject
“Go on.”
And one hand slips around to catch Raine’s roaming fingertips, pulling them higher until they rest just across his own shoulder, making it easy to tip his head down and kiss their clawed ends without having to pull his attention away. Absent fondness. Simple trade.
Affection for affection.
“Tell me what else you see.”
What else he says, avaricious thing that he is— as though he hasn’t already been fed.
no subject
Lord knows Raine would crave it, too.
"Goodness, 'what else'?" Their tone is mild, gaze crinkling in gentle mirth; approving. "I'm more pirate than poet, but I will try my best to continue to find the proper words form my perspective." Slightly buying time, really, to jog for anything they've overlooked about him.
"I see someone akin to a kindred soul. More than just a pretty face, or a smirk as thrilling, dangerous, and beautiful as an electric charge."
Their gaze softens.
"I see someone who made me fall for him so urgently that it leaves me breathless inside, just to look at him.
"And he has such lovely physical traits, that even he can see that. Strong shoulders..."
Their gaze glints teasingly, but warmly, as they move a bit, standing on shadows to bridge the height gap as they smooth their touch over his shoulder.
"A lovely neck and chest.... An adorable waist."
Their touch flutters down, sliding their touch along his side as they purr while speaking.
"The elegant line of your back, even when you're walking away from me..."
Their purring gets a little louder as they peer at him, affectionate, but also with unabashed want.
no subject
Drawing them closer, inch by inch. Away from the space at his back, and nearer to his side, affording them the chance to nestle in against the crook of his arm instead.
Touch is better. Distraction is better.
The sound of their voice is better.
"I never leave you for long, at least." He murmurs, satisfied by such pretty persuasion. By simple truths, and the voice behind them.
"Though I suppose now that we're inhabiting space inside your home, I'll be walking away from you even less often, in fact."
no subject
Tickled by the words, Raine smiles at him with a warmth in their gaze to match. They do, indeed, nestle in where they're welcomed, invited, and gently bunting into him as if they were in feline form, weaving against his ankles in happiness. Their ears are at rest, tail possessively curled high on the back of one of his thighs, but innocently enough away from his ass in a gesture of respect.
Astarion isn't the only avaricious one; Raine still wants even though their body has very little left to give in terms of carnal pleasures.
"You're going to spoil me."
It's not a chide by any measure.
"You are quick to return, before I can miss you too much. You're smart to leave when I'm asleep most of the time."
Their gaze is gentle and playful as they look at him.
"You're free to roam wherever you'd like here. My home is your home. For however you want it to be. Your personal signature has been registered in these wards. You can come and go as you please."
Their gaze softens.
"I should give you a tour of the town when you're ready, if you'd like. And the nearest tavern isn't far. However, after all of that affection between us, my dear, I think I want to lie down sooner than later. Preferably with you."
They'll need to hunt after. Fortunately, this part of the world has some nearby forests that are prime for that.... But right now, they just want to cuddle with their chosen person.