Doric x gn!Reader - helping when her arm is strained from an injury
Simon's healing spell had been lacking. Healing wasn't his strongest suit, and his strongest suit was questionable at best. Time would be the best nurse.
Regardless, Doric was impatient. She despised her own crippling weakness, and tried to ignore its existence. Unfortunately, her injury was very real, insistent, and certainly not ignoring her.
Her most pressing issue as of now, Doric was annoyed she hadn't been able to wash her hair, something she took great care to maintain. An incapacitated arm would not stop her -- other simple tasks may have been difficult, but she had triumphed over those as well.
Slipping out of your shared room in the tavern, Doric set out to find the washroom, intent on addressing her needs herself despite the party's offers.
Your dreams had been restless, your sleep light. Having awoken to creaking bed springs, in the semi-darkness you watched Doric's silhouette creep into the hallway, the door's latch falling softly.
After a beat, you rose from your own bed. You couldn't help but feel protective when Doric was this vulnerable. It didn't help that recently she'd made a habit of only hurting herself further in her insistence to act unhindered.
Feeling your way along the wall as your eyes adjusted to the low light of the hallway, you followed Doric's track. She was easy enough to locate, a significant indicator of her presence that of candelight spilling from beneath a closed door.
Armour discarded for the sake of comfortable rest, Doric's tunic was folded by the side of the sink, leaving the druid in only her bindings. It must've hurt to wriggle out of her tunic, if her quiet attempts to shed her armour earlier that night were any indication.
Copper hair darkened and slick, rivulets of water weaved between the map of freckles across her pale shoulders. Her horns gleamed in the glow of a single candle's flickering flame, and the dark pupils of her eyes were blown wide; cobalt almost sapphire.
Leaning on the door frame, you regarded her. She didn't seem bothered to be shirtless in front of you, so you didn't make a thing of it.
"You're being foolish."
Doric rolled her eyes and scoffed. "It's a simple task."
You hummed. "Maybe so, but it's one you can't do yourself right now." Taking a step closer, you eased the door closed behind you. "You're halfway there already, so just let me help."
"If I'm halfway there then let me finish." Doric retorted, dismissing you by facing the basin.
Alas, the next stretch of her task was easily the most difficult. Doric eyed the soap bar, then turned back to you.
"You'll tell no one about this."
"Fine by me," you said, cracking a smile.
Sitting on a three-legged stool, Doric leaned back over the basin, bracing her arms on either side of the table. This was your wordless permission to begin. Every muscle in Doric's body was tense, and she glared fixedly at the splintered ceiling as you walked over.
Lathering soap onto your hands first, you started at her temples; massaging in little circles with your fingertips. This carried you down to the nape of her neck, and thus to the ends of her hair, which led you back up to her roots. Doric's eyes fluttered.
Working around her horns was simple enough, though the thought crossed your mind to ask if they needed maintenance as well; oil, or whatever else? Ultimately, you decided not to overstep your welcome and leave her care to herself. There would be another time.
In no time at all -- or a good hour later, neither of you knew -- all that remained was to wash out the soap with clean water. Shielding her eyes with one hand, you worked through Doric's hair until confident it was free of suds. Then, allowing the druid to lift her head at long last, you dragged another stool over, having aquired a towel.
Despite not being of the finest quality, the towel did its job well enough. Minutes ticked by as you made every laborious effort, Doric growing fonder of your care with every second. At the cost of your time, a simple task had been made simple again.
Carefully dried now, Doric's hair was crazily soft. Doric seemed content with your attention now, as she had no complaints when you picked up the horsehair brush leaning against the basin, a low steady purr rumbling in her throat instead.
Carding your fingers through her hair a final time, a grand opportunity had been presented to you. Sparing a few extra seconds, your fingers worked nimbly to weave a small braid just behind her ear. Unnoticed by the extremely relaxed tiefling, you tied it off with a strand of your own hair, enjoying how your shade complemented hers.
Delusions kept private, you shook Doric awake -- the late hour and calming ministrations had allowed her to drift into a much-needed rest. Her jaw cracked with a yawn as you helped her get her tunic over her shoulders. Asleep on her feet, you guided her back down the hallway by the light of the candle.
"Thanks," Doric spared a moment to murmur before dropping onto her bed, injured arm out at an angle.
"My pleasure," you whispered back amidst her gentle snores.
Blowing out the candle, you climbed into your own covers, wide awake, heart hammering. You brought your hands up to your burning cheeks, closing your eyes tightly.
• Doric falling asleep on your shoulder as you write a song for her.
• Doric is shy about singing, but you often ask her to sing with you and she eventually caves. It turns out Doric has the most beautiful voice you have ever heard.
• Catching Doric's eye as you sing for a tavern, your focus completely on her instead of your audience.
• Doric being charmed by your confidence, but still rejecting you at first. You must prove to her your intentions are heartfelt because of your profession's reputation.
• Teaching Doric how to play your favoured instrument.
• Song duelling Edgin, only to have Doric proclaim you the ultimate bard. Is she insulting Edgin or complimenting you?
• Singing Doric a lullaby when she struggles to sleep after a nightmare.
• Doric protecting you in her owlbear form when you fail to charm someone.
y'all have no idea how loud i'm screaming (internally) having found out the author of doric's prequel book has confirmed she's ace and demiro 🥺🥺🤧
as an aroace person myself, to be able to watch a video in which a direct source says those terms so confidently, makes this fact about doric's character so blatantly undeniable... it means a lot
aight... i'm gonna take requests for dndhat now! i need some inspo 😩 and i'm ready to get back in the game >:]
i make a point of all my x reader writings being as accessible as possible for any reader unless i single out a specific trait, so every one will be gender-neutral!reader
i'll write for:
Doric
Simon Aumar
Edgin Darvis
Holga Kilgore
i won't write:
anything NSFW
don't be shy to ask me if i'll write something you're unsure about; i don't bite and chances are i might say yes!
today i offer a lil writing warm-up. tomorrow? who knows
doric x gn!reader - she catches you with her tail
You hear a cry of your name, but there's simply not enough time to adjust your trajectory. Bringing your arms up to protect your head, you can only brace yourself.
Flaming hair flashes in your periphery. A scaled tail hooks around your waist, yanks you back in the other direction. For a precious few beats, you're suspended above death.
Then, you're held tight to Doric's body, danger averted. The beam of magic wooshes past and fizzles out.
Doric's cheeks promptly burn. She pushes you from herself, her step backward unsteady. Her tail takes its sweet time to unlatch from your waist, though eventually it does.
"Careful," she says in a low voice.
She casts you one more glance before returning to the fight, leaving you to follow.
