shipping picture promts

[sarabi]

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.

link 'em: <a href=IMAGEURL>TEXT</a> embed 'em: <img src=IMAGEURL> shrink 'em: <img src=IMAGEURL width=500> OR <img src=IMAGEURL height=INSERT>

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[illithidnapped]

Normally he’d opt to bask for a time, absorbing the ease and comfort that slithers in  after a nightly romp— but safety, if what Raine’s mentioned is true by way of those wards, is too necessary to pass up: every second spent out in the open is another second where Cazador might yet find them. His eyes and ears everywhere amongst even the most mortal and benign of creatures.

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.”

[catarmy]

And honestly, there is no entirely dire need to dress. Raine openly watches Astarion get up, shivering slightly at the loss of warmth against their fur. They watch him still, from the stretch of his body to as he starts to gather up trinkets to carry with them.

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.

[illithidnapped]

“Noted, my love.” Astarion puffs slyly, already having gone through the nominal trouble of tugging on his trousers for good measure (boots stuffed into his pack alongside everything else, pants slung low across his hips for laziness alone, shirt left open) when he pads over towards Raine’s side and sets a pale hand across their shoulder as requested.

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.

[catarmy]

Raine happily lets Astarion venture to and fro, taking the moment to place their belongings near the wall in the dining area. Idly, they purr, happy to be home and safe and further away from prying eyes and ears. The wards softly chime in their ears alone for the newcomer, but all it takes is a little shift in magic to have it recognize Astarion as a welcomed guest, and they quiet to that gentle hum again.

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."

[illithidnapped]

He doesn't shy from that touch as it settles; he knows Raine well enough by now that their presence doesn't serve as an intrusion, even in moments like this one—

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."

[catarmy]

Raine's expression sobers slightly, the truth of the moment settling in for them as well - after ages of not being able to see something, surely that does make the memory of that shape wane.

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."

[illithidnapped]

“Hm.” It’s a soft sigh, a patient sigh, exhaled as he fixates on the sight of his own stare and tries— within the span of their words— to divorce its crimson cast from the memory of its maker. The barest difference of degrees when his lips curl ever so slightly upwards.

“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.

[catarmy]

Avaricious, perhaps, but not to an unpleasant degree. Astarion has gone so long without seeing his own face until now; it only makes sense to offer a little more to help wick away anything negative lingering behind.

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.

[illithidnapped]

It's difficult. Facing the past he lost in the mirror. Reclamation— after all— means acknowledging that something had been lost to begin with, and without the memory of his eyecolor or what his own pallor might've been before the fall (without anything, in fact, of the life before his masters shadow) Astarion tightens his grip around Raine's fingers...

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."

[catarmy]

"Oh my~"

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.