I would like to request the "Only-One-Bed" trope for Orym, Dariax, Ashton and Dorian. They seek refuge against a snw storm and there's only one bed left. Kisses and hugs? Cuddles and shy snuggles?
Merry Christmas! (Or Happy Holidays) :)
Oh yeah 🤣 I remember this one
Perfect for the holidays
Orym
He’s half excited, half nervous to be sharing a bed with you. It makes his heart race to be so close to you, but the halfling feels conflicted on whether he should truly confess or not. His thoughts keep him up at night, but in the middle of your sleep, Orym feels you unconsciously drape an arm over him. It’s the safest he’s felt in a while as his eyes close.
Dariax
He’s always imagined how it might go, and now that he’s faced with it, it’s a bit of a big deal. Dariax feels so intimate in this moment, curled up next to you, but he feels a bit at ease when you smile at him. Awkward smiled turn up giggles to jokes and before you know it, both of you drift off to sleep snuggling each other.
Dorian
It’s everything that comes out of songs and books he’s idealized. He hopes you can’t see the raspberry blush on his face but he’s not subtle. Eyes darting back and forth, Dorian freezes when you reach out to touch him. Soon, hand holding becomes spooning before he has you tucked into his side.
Ashton
No he’s not going to take up your space on the bed, despite your insistence. Only after an uncomfortable bout on the wood floor does Ashton comply and crawl into the bed. You’ve started to doze off but feel a dip when he lies down next to you. It’s brief touches, but he admires you in your sleep. Gentle snores and hands brushing away the strands of your hair as he moves closer to you.
Hello hello! First time request but been enjoying your fics for a while now 🥰 F
For the Winter list, may I request Orym or Dorian of Bells Hells with #3. Mistletoe? I’m thinking a meet cute at a winter party or tavern and a first kiss, all fluff 😊
Fluff and perhaps a little cheesy but perfectly Orym I hope. Enjoy! Ps I might do Dorian later because I already have this concept living in my head rent free now. 😘
Orym is someone who loves easily. His friends he regards his closest; his family and he’d go to any lengths for them. Trusting them, that’s another story of course. He’ll trust them with his life but he would not trust them with a barbed crown for example, or a glimpse into a treasury with an empty promise they won’t take anything. Orym supposes that’s what family is all about. He loves easily, but he does not fall in love as easy. Not after everything. He’s held that kind of love at bay, closed himself off for it, if not out of preservation of memory he holds so dear, then for self preservation. He simply considers himself unable to move on yet, even if he know that significant part of his life would have told him not to dwindle on that past. He deserves happiness. Orym is happy. He really is. Look at him now; surrounded by the people he cares about, having a good time, watching them sing and dance, and drink, laughing at the odd joke or stupidity going around. It’s perfect. But then he sees you, watches how you laugh as Fearne accidentally drops your coin pouch on the table and sheepishly goes ‘oops where did that come from’. He finds himself smiling the way he smiled at him and then his heart feels heavy, when it was so light in just that moment, like the weight of the world wasn’t on his shoulders and instead he was floating through the sky. But then the dark clouds in his skies clear. He looks up to see the sun, feels its rays warm his skin and he realises he’s not felt that in a long time. Like he only now realises he had forgotten how cold it truly got without that brightness. That voice that sounds so familiar, the one no matter what he will alway carry with him, tells him to bask in it, as if giving permission.
He looks to his side as you have a hand pressed to your chest as you try to even out your breathing and wipe away the tears streaming down your cheeks from laughter at the latest antics. Orym doesn’t even realise he missed whatever happened because the others seem to very much share your expression. He tugs on your sleeve, calling your attention to him and you instantly do, your eyes filled with warmth and kindness and comfort and all the things he’s been denying himself of because he felt like he shouldn’t be ready to allow that into his heart just yet. He’s seen it in your eyes from the very first meeting, he knows he shared that look to; like something that was simply meant to be from the moment he met you and he was stupid to deny it. You walked into his life for a reason, and he in yours. You both have your own stories; chapters past but maybe you can write some chapters together in the future?
“Yes, Orym?” You smile as he offers you the remainder of his drink, yours already empty. Gratefully you take it and thank him. You drink the contents and you sigh in relief. You needed that. Leave it to the halfling to always know exactly what you need when you need it and also be the one to offer it to you freely. Every time he does, you feel warm and fuzzy inside. Every time he offers you a smile, you find yourself smiling back. You come to his defence when someone brings his character in question. You listen to him, value his opinion and expertise and when it comes to an argument or vote you feel good sticking by his side when he is right, or reasonably explain when you’re not and why. He respects your opinion, recognises your skills and expertises and holds them in the highest regards. He’s confided in you in ways he has not with anyone else. He’s asked for comfort when he need it and felt safe doing so; always asked for your permission and took into consideration your wellbeing.
You also know Orym’s struggles. Even if you’ve never come close to feeling what he felt, what he’s gone through and still going through, you understand and you can offer compassion, not because of some lingering feelings but because you care about him first and foremost. Your first meeting, there was just something that had your heart leap, that made you feel things that left you longing for his affection. You found yourself always gravitating towards him to the point where you had to argue with your heart. In whatever romances you’d heard about, or read, the ones from the stories always signal that a story starting out like that the two souls are meant to be but that’s just fiction. Real life is far more complicated and you value the people before you would ever even consider the fantasy. Orym is Orym and he is your amazing friend. Your heart will be open to him of course and you think he knows it too, especially now with how he looks at you.
“I’m going to get some air.” He leans into you so you can better hear him over the noise of the others, of the busy tavern. It’s as much an invitation as it is a simple statement.
“I’ll come join you.” Orym smiles at you when you offer your hand and he hops from the chair, you following behind, fishing back the coin pouch Fearne yet again had set her sights upon. She pouts so you toss her some coins before you leave. Obviously you don’t know she managed to steal something else of your person while you got up.
And so you and Orym find ourselves pushing through the crowd to the exit until you breathe in the cold night’s air. You might be in Marquet but temperatures still drop significantly at night, especially in the winter. The cold air is a relief either way though it takes a second to adjust. You spot a bench in the square under a tree. He notices too and shares your thought. The two of you sit down there. You pull your cloak a little closer around yourself to keep the cool air at bay.
“So how much trouble do you reckon they’ll be in by the time we return?” You joke. Orym snorts a laugh and shakes his head.
“My money’s on a full blown bar fight.” He smiles and you reply in a chuckle. This is the easygoing nature he mentioned before. Life seems significantly easier when you’re around. He feels like he can breathe again when he’s with you. With the warmth your presence exerts for him, he doesn’t even feel the cutting cold on his bare arms. He didn’t realise he was shivering until you got up, took off your cloak and sat back down again to drape it across the both of you. Not when he felt his arm against yours did he realise he was freezing, and now he instantly warms up, pulling the end of the cloak you placed around him closer. In the palm of your hand you produce a small flame and hold it close between the two of you. The glow bounces off your features; relaxed and smiling.
“You’re a bit out of it, aren’t you?” It’s a simple question but the way you ask it, implies you don’t expect an answer or elaboration. You don’t demand anything. You’ll be grateful for anything he gives, equally as you’ll be grateful for his honestly in silence. That’s what makes you so wonderful.
“Just some thoughts refusing to settle.” He admits. You nod in acknowledgement and while you still smile your expression is more serious next.
“You know if you need anything, if there’s anything at all, you can come to me, right?” You feel his hand coming to cup under yours where you hold the flame. You dismiss it and allow his hand to slip into yours.
“Exactly part of what I’ve been trying to figure out.” Orym speaks absentmindedly and only realises how those words may have come across all too late.
“I’m sorry, I don’t mean to overstep-“ You begin but he faces you fully, calls for your attention, and when your head drops, he brings his fingers up to lift it enough for him to look you in the eye proper.
“No-no I’m sorry. That’s not what I meant. You’ve been nothing but kind and wonderful and understanding. I just- This is difficult to say.” He begins and you can tell the apology is genuine, that you worried for nothing. The worry drops from your features, but some desire for further comprehension lays buried within your eyes despite the front you put forward.
“It’s okay. You don’t have to explain.” You feel his hand squeeze yours as the one from your face drops, and you suddenly feel a cold spot left at the lack of warmth the touch provided.
“I think it’s time I do.” A pained courage. He takes a deep breath as if he prepares himself for a difficult move. Orym told you once, for people like him; it’s more mind than body holding them back from progress in things like training. He explained how it worked and what that looked like when you displayed a curiosity. That’s probably what you see now.
“Orym, we can talk about this in the morning if you need time to settle your thoughts yourself.” You offer an out, but he immediately shakes his head. He’s not backing down now. He’s going to rip this bandage clean off now he’s here. It’s alright.
“I thought I’d be replacing him if I allowed myself to develop that kind of relationship with you. I thought doing so, that wouldn’t be fair to you because you deserve so much. You deserve honesty and happiness and love. You deserve to be more than a replacement.” Orym watches as you take a breath and give him a pitied look but he continues. “But then I saw, you could never be a replacement. You’re unique and what I’ve felt for you is unique. You can’t refill a spot in my heart when you have more than earned your own. I was just too blind to see.” He studies you, watches as you take in every single word, consider them, process them. You don’t take long but suspension feels like an eternity. He’ll wait an eternity and a half for you if that’s what it takes.
“I-uh-I don’t really know what to say other than I love you too?” You smile sheepishly and he laughs. You join in and before you know it the two of you are cuddled up together thinking about how stupid you’ve been for letting this go on for so long. You suppose you really are a love story in the making dramatics and all. You just hope the drama ends here but you’ll take enough with it ending in the romantic department because given your chosen company there will always be drama and you wouldn’t have in any other way.
Together you sit wrapped in your cloak on that wooden bench as the stragglers on the streets pass by. They rush because of the cold. You see the people leaving the tavern shiver and curse as they leave the warm interior and the two of you snicker at their responses as yo just talk about nothing but closer this time and not just physically. Orym plays with your fingers, tracing along every knuckle and bone beneath your skin, along every muscle as you twitch or curl into the movement the he does. Gone are the worry and intrusive doubts and instead you bask in your internal sun glow, even in the dead of night, even when everyone else is freezing. You’re here and you’re okay with whatever comes on your path’s next. You’ve faced things together before. You’ll face them together hand in hand now too.
“There’s this tradition… With the Ashari. The druids say if you find yourself below a certain plant, it means good fortune is to be sealed with an expression of affection.” Orym says, his head against your shoulder, as you’ve curled your legs under you and lean your head against his.
“That sounds quite wonderful actually. What does it look like?” You ask as you smile at this strange tradition. Orym leans away from you but this time you don’t miss the lack of warmth for it’s still there. He lets go of your hands to call upon the faint magic within him until an oval leafed plant grows, with small round berries going from white to pink and eventually red. You stare with wonder, brushing your fingers along the leaves and berries. Orym hands it to you and hold it up to the moonlight to take a closer look. He studies you and cannot fight the smile on his face, not like he tries anyway. But then your eyes widen and you all but gasp as you quickly lower your hand.
“Oh! I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean to- I lifted it above- Are you cursed now? Am I cursed now? Are we cursed?” Orym chuckles as he clasps your hand holding the mistletoe and gives an assuring squeeze. You calm down but still seem somewhat tense.
“It’s just a superstition. You didn’t doom us all.” He tries to convince you with a smile but you’re not entirely convinced.
“You’re trying to tell me that bad luck is not a thing with this group we are with?” On second thought, maybe it is a good idea to indulge this superstition because you can use every single shred of good fortune on your side right about now.
“Maybe you’re right…” Orym frowns and then gently brings your hand clasped between his to him. He looks at you, as if getting permission and you just urge him on with an assured nod. He places a kiss on the back of it, swiftly. You wait, and wait and wait but nothing feels different or changed. It’s just normal…
“Did it work? Is that enough?” You suspiciously scan your surroundings.
“Well, usually it’s a kiss but-“ Orym starts but doesn’t finish his sentence. Especially after trying to decipher what he just said, or rather the meaning behind it because when he thinks of it, it goes beyond explaining some silly tradition. The thought of kissing you, under mistletoe, it runs warmth to his cheeks but also leaves him longing for that kind of affection, like he only now realises how much he’s missed, how long he’s refused to indulge himself into that luxury. What you said next he did not see coming and was not prepared for.
“Well then, kiss me.” Orym does a double take. “Only if you’re alright with it. I don’t want to take any chances this comes back to haunt us.” You pull free of his gentle grasp on your hand and hold the mistletoe over; an invitation.
“Are you sure?” He stands on the bench, slightly above your eye-level and takes the the branch from you. Orym’s heart is racing, beating miles a minute when he stares in your eyes, and searches any doubt, any real conviction you’re a little too into this superstition but you’re not. That’s but an after thought, especially now you’ve considered and analysed the situation.
Slowly his fingers lace with you, clasped between your palms ever so lightly, is the mistletoe. You lean in, and Orym does not step back, or stop you. He does not feel awkward about the closeness on a more romantic level as opposed to platonic. Instead he embraces the affection. Clasped hands still above your heads, just barely, he leans in too until your lips meet. It’s everything he could with for. Fireworks and all. It’s perfect, affectionate and just… everything. But it’s a simple kiss and while he could have stayed in that moment frozen eternally and be perfectly satisfied, time moves on. You pull back. He reaches up to cup your cheek with a smile.
“Think that’ll do?” You laugh, cheeks slightly flustered.
“Uhh maybe one more? For good measure.” He finds his humour and feels satisfaction spread through him when your smile grows and you steal a quick kiss.
“Cheeky.” His fingers brush over your cheekbone, feeling that warmth of your skin, seeing the glow in your eyes. “I like it.” This time you lean in once more for a longer kiss and Orym happily accepts. He can get used to it, and so could you. Let’s see where it leads. But you live in the here and now and this is perfect. Just perfect.
Pairing: Orym X M! Reader
Warnings/Disclaimers: Uses masc terms and descriptors, Reader is a paladin devoted to Sehanine, no reader race specified other than you being taller than Orym/a halfling but shorter than Fearne.
Rating: Sfw, little angsty
Multi part: maybe, idk yet
Premise: The group takes on an extra healer to help manage the party better.
Nestled in your rented shop you were busy tidying it before heading out for the evening. You had only been in this town for a few weeks, making your living before you headed off once again to who knows where. For a while you had been a traveling doctor of sorts, taking up residence in various towns for weeks to months at a time. Your skills were somewhat scarce in Jrusar, as well as most of the other places you traveled, so you were able to make plenty of coin this way. This had been your way of life in the years after you took your oaths, avoiding conflict in place of serving by providing aid instead. What made you so appealing to weary travelers or the cities' residents were your reasonable prices. Compared to most career healers you were practically giving away your services. Your potions were top notch and barely five gold, alchemy materials were gathered daily and sold for a fraction of the typical cost. Everything about your business was desirable to a wide variety of folk ranging from single mothers with sick children to thugs who didn’t want to deal with any questions. Of course you used your medical training more than your goddess given powers. You knew better than to flaunt a gift with magic to the broader public, especially healing or resurrection magic, so to most you were just a kind doctor selling their services and wares for far too cheap.
The city you were currently stationed in was just a small town on the path to the spires, resting on the edge of Jrusar. They didn’t have many clinics or physicians of their own so you fit in well and had been pulling in ample coin from travelers. Today had been a busy one as many passed through your business to stock up on goods or get advice as they went on their ways. Your healing items were dangerously low with not a single healing potion on your shelf and a scarce amount of bandages elsewhere. It was perfectly fine to be out of stock this late in the day and you were currently in the process of closing so it didn’t really matter, you’d be stocked back up by the next time you opened anyways. As you tucked away some scraps of herbs there was a rapid pounding coming from your front door. It wasn’t unusual for someone to get in a pinch and need your services but you were clearly closed. Before you could call out to whomever was awaiting your help you heard muffled voices laced with panic.
“Are you absolutely sure they’ll help?” A thick accent fluttered through your ears that you recognized as that of a farm girl.
“They have to,” the other voice was rough, grumbly, annoyed, desperate; all things you were used to hearing from customers.
“They aren’t even open Ashton, why are we here?!” The girl snapped at the other just as you pulled open the door. Six stood before you with a Seventh cradled in a genasi’s arms. The group was diverse but you’d seen crazier however the faun was a bit more unusual but still not too out there. A purple haired woman looked surprised as the genasi stepped past her, their face carrying a silent plea.
“I’m sorry I know you’re closed but you are the only person in town who can help,” you matched the second voice to him, it still carrying its roughness but also a tinge of sadness. “He’s in rough shape we just need him out of the woods and conscious.”
“I can do that,” not even taking a moment to think you responded, fully confident in your abilities. “Bring him over to the cot and give me any healing items you have then run me through what happened.” As he obeyed your orders you saw your patient. A halfling in homely armor that was tinged a deep red. He looked rough, his breathing shallow and body splattered with bruises and blood. You were taking vitals the moment he was placed down as well as locating the worse of his wounds. Nothing had been passed your way so you cast a quick look at the group, “You don’t have anything do you?”
“No,” The purple haired woman who you could now identify as the farm girl spoke up as the others shared looks of worry. “We used it all to get him here, I’m sorry.”
“That’s alright,” Compassion flooded the room as you spook, their frowns softening only slightly. “I have a stashed away first aid kit under the counter, can you grab it for me?” with a nod she sped off, grabbing said kit and running it to you side before taking her place sat there. “So, what happened?” Starting by removing his armor carefully, each motion done with care as to not agitate any wounds. You were focused as she started talking, nodding along to her story.
“We were just on our way back, we weren’t doing that great but we thought we could make it without things gettin’ bad again.” She was calmer than most in this situation yet you could tell her hands shook as she fiddled with them in her lap. “Something attacked us, I-i don’t know what it was but it came out of nowhere.” Voice wavering she blinked away tears as she looked away from her injured friend to the others. You had found the worst of the injuries, that being a large set of slashes on his torso. What you had wouldn’t be enough even if you worked carefully. If you had a potion you could at least get him to a workable point but with only a pitiful pile of gauze and some suture martials he was a goner. Cleaning the wound with an attentive eye you did your best to keep the group unaware to you dismay but someone shifting behind filled you with unease. “Orym took most of the hits for us, he kept us from getting hurt too bad.” Motioning to her own arm she showed a few scratches and some bruising, nothing a bit of rest wouldn’t fix, barely a fraction of the damage he had. “Before we knew it he was down and losing a lot of blood. We grabbed him and ran until we got here then we asked around to see if anyone could help and someone pointed us here so Ashton booked it over.” Losing her composure a few drops feel from her eyes onto her shorts. From the corner of your eye you saw the faun eyeing you closely, watching you as you aimlessly cleaned him up in hopes of figuring out a way to manage this without disappointing them.
“He is very very rough,” you spoke honestly, lifting your hands from him to look at them. “I don’t have a lot, there isn’t much I can do.”
“But you can do something right?” the faun spoke, her voice young but filled with hope. Her face scrunched up while her hands found themselves balled up on her chest, “yo-you have to, he’s our friend, our best friend, please.” A gnomish man gave her a pat on the leg as she tried to get the words out, choking on them as you looked at them solemnly.
“Please, we will pay or give you anything you want.” The genasi fidgeted as they spoke. “We don’t want to lose him just, fuck, please man.” His volume increased as he threw his arms down to his side, running hands across stone hair not long after. With a nod you breathed in, readying yourself. Using your magic wasn’t ideal. It was incredibly taxing on you and to make it worth it you’d have to push yourself further than you’d like. Saying a silent prayer to your god your hands found his chest, just above his fading heart beat. Casting cure wounds as strongly as you could you closed your eyes, silently focusing. Energy swelled in your body before leaving it, moving into his and leaving you drained. Come on, breath, please breath. You weren’t entirely sure if you were saying it to yourself or him, maybe both were true at this moment. A shaky breath lifted his chest followed by a gasp. Heartbeat stabilizing, he took more shaky breaths, his friends rushing to his side as you sat back and took one of your own. Your body ached and you felt more tired than you’d been in weeks but it was worth it. Smiles covered their faces as they hugged their friend, him passing his own back as he sat up. The faun hugged him tightly to which he winced at, patting her head as she released him. It was a sweet scene and reminded you as to why you did this. Even if it drained you of every drop of power you had you wanted to help, even if it just meant raising someone's odds and that seems to be what you had done.
“Thank you thank you thank you,” The faun crashed into you, her hair blinding you as it fell over your face. Despite seeming incredibly dainty she was a force of a woman, nearly taking your off your chair while she squeezed the life out of you.
“Easy on him Fearne,” your now fully coherent patient smiled as he watched her pout before letting you go, a hand petting your head as she stood back up. “Thank you friend.” His smile was warm and kind as he looked at you in appreciation. The others followed and gave their own thanks, some mumbled some loud, it was all the same to you.
“It’s fine, it’s what I do.” You shrugged before standing, stretching in hopes of working the soreness out of your body. Moving across the room to tuck away the barely used first aid kit you addressed the group, “So, you seven got a place to stay?” Sheepish looks passed across the group before the purple haired woman stood and spoke up.
“No, but we should be able to find something, you’ve already done so much for us,” Waving her hand dismissively she looked back at Orym. “We might need a few minutes to just collect ourselves then we will be out of your hair.”
“Its fine,” you lazily looked at her, sleep already creeping its way into you. “I’ve got some spare space and blankets, besides it’s probably best if you stick around until hero here makes it through the night.” Orym flushed at the nickname with some of the group sharing small laughs and poking fun at him. They reluctantly agreed after some nagging from Orym and Fearne then introduced themselves to you before getting set up for bed. Final thank yous were sent your way as you took your own place on a couch in your main shop area, sleeping on and off through the night while checking on Orym.
When morning came you gave the group some look overs while primarily focusing on Orym. Your magic had helped kick start his bodies healing process well enough that he just had some fresh scars covering his chest. To say the group was grateful was an understatement as they tried to shove various forms of payment at you. Each you turned down kindly, not wanting payment for saving someone’s life using your last ditch effort. It was then that their automaton spoke up.
“You said you travel a lot right?” He sounded similarly to Imogen but much more upbeat, his quirky little voice filling the shop as he wheeled in front of you. “Well why don’t you travel with us? You’re good with medicine and after the past couple days I think we could use a little more help, right guys?” Turning to his friends they looked between each other before nodding as if they were seeking validation before agreeing.
“I don’t know,” You had never traveled with a group before not for lack of trying. A lot of adventures needed a heal machine that could patch them up for fights which, while it fit what you enjoyed doing, was not exactly what you were looking for. You didn’t want to be used for just your skill or magic so people could save a quick buck. “Why would you need another healer? You said you can heal FCG and you said Fearne could as well.” Crossing your arms you looked at them with a raised brow, waiting to see how they responded.
“Well you are a lot moooore rational under stress,” Laudna played with her hair as she batted her eyes at you nervously. “And we would pay you of course, after all what kind of friends would we be if we didn’t split the cut?” She spoke as if it was common sense, everyone nodding in agreement.
“Friends?” You asked mostly out of confusion. The cut of profits did sound appealing and would probably be a lot more money than what you had been doing a lot faster however you were still cautious.
“I mean if we travel together we are friends or at least i'd like to be,” FCG wheeled between his friends as they gathered their things. “We could always not be friends but i don’t think that’d be very nice.”
With seven set of eyes placed on you expectantly you could only sigh, “Fine, let me get my things then we can go. It might take a second, i’ve got a lot to sort through.”
“We have a hole you can put it in!” Fearne said cheerfully as she reached into her cleavage.
“You have a what?” Your alarm was silenced as she pulled out a black piece of fabric before placing it on the ground. As a show Ashton stuck his hammer into the hole before pulling it out, showing it was indeed a sort of pocket dimension for storing things. Despite the strangeness of the situation you complied with your new team, hoping this would not be the start of many more questionable decisions.
Hey, I just wanted to let you know you're one of my absolute favorite writers and I hope your having a wonderful day/night, since you deserve only the best!
I was wondering if there was a way I could request with Orym and Laudna where their S/O has been really sneaky and avoiding them, but it isn't anything bad turns out they've been working really hard to make matching jewelry so them and their S/O can match.
Thank you so so much darling!! 💜 I know you're a big supporter of my blog and I very much appreciate you! I hope you have a great day/night as well xx
~ Poet
Matching Jewellery
Orym
He thinks it's nice that you have a craft and trade of your own that's different to Chetney's woodwork. He just wishes that, like the gnome, you wouldn't hide your latest creation from him whenever he tries to catch a glance.
When you finally deem your jewellery worthy of examination, you show him your green stone and ivy-themed ring, turning your hand in his so he can have a better look of it, waiting for his reaction.
It takes his breath away, truly. It's subtle, but anyone with eyes can clearly see the resemblance between the ring and his ashari armour.
He realises that it's a testament to your shared love, tying to together and to one another. Orym looks up at you like you hung the stars in the sky yourself, the tips of his ears a slight pink.
He says he's so lucky to have you, and his thumb brushes over the band on your finger when he tells you so. It's a promise that one day, maybe not tomorrow or the next, but one day he'll add another ring to adorn your hand and he will wear one to match.
Laudna
She's initially amused when you started skulking around her, distancing yourself and taking watches with other party members so you could tinker away without her knowing gaze.
Almost gets emotional when you reveal the matching elf-ear cuffs you've put so much time and effort and love into, hiding her choked sob with a smile.
She rests her cold palms on your jaw, angling your head this way and that so she can examine the craftsmanship in greater detail. The coiled and twisted metal wires are perfect, your own interpretation and take on the design of her own, but no one can doubt they act as a matching pair.
She doesn't let her past linger on her mind that much these days, a quality that drew you to her in the first place, but in moments like this the vulnerability and unfiltered emotion she has makes itself known.
The worst has already happened to Laudna, and since then she's met you she's had nothing but good in her life. You wear the ear cuffs as a symbol of pride, devotion to her even. She laughs, thrilled that you both are matching, squishes your cheeks together and kisses your nose.
"Ugh, I feel like you'd be so much better at this than me. I don't know what to do." You confess to the moon, laying on the roof of the house you share with Orym. You throw your arm over your eyes.
"Who you talking to?" Orym's voice calls from the ground. Slightly teasing.
Shit. You've never actually admitted to talking to Will when you were worried and you weren't sure how your boyfriend would take it.
The halfling climbed up the ladder you left out for yourself, though he could probably just hop up here like a frog. He was smiling, letting you know his teasing was gentle at least.
You take a deep breath.
"I know you'll be okay but I also know you're hurting right now. The anniversary is always hard on you and I never know how to help. So I came up to brainstorm. . . with Will." You confess honestly, gesturing at the moon with your chin.
"I'm sorr-" he starts, his forehead creased with his own worry now.
"Nope. You have nothing to apologize for. The only reason I didn't come directly to you was that I knew you'd get that 'I feel bad for making you worry' look. And Will doesn't give me that look." You say sternly.
He chuckles still somewhat sadly at that and comes to lay beside you. You reach for his hand and lace your fingers together.
"I don't think I ever expected you to talk to him like this." He says.
"If it bothers you I can stop." Your voice drops to a whisper.
"No, not at all. You just didn't know him, I never thought you'd want to. That you'd care."
"I know he loved you, and he made you happy, and I'm sure he'd want you to be happy now too. And I love you, and I want you to be happy. So since we have the same goals we're basically teammates. Or allies. Or weird friends. I don't know." You mumble, "I hope it doesn't feel like I'm overstepping."
You hear him sniffle and he rolls into your side, face in the crook of your neck.
"No. I just feel this grief because I've lost him and then so much guilt that I've moved on. And then I think about how if he never died I would never have met you and that makes me want to grieve too, which just makes the guilt worse." He confesses tears pooling on your shoulder. You hold him closer against you.
"I feel like he'd know what to say, or how to help. Like he'd be better at this than me. Is there anything I can do to help?" You ask a little desperate.
"I doubt he'd know what to say, it's not like I lost a husband before him. But this helps. Talking, knowing that you don't feel like you're in a competition. That you actually feel like you're on the same side as him." He smiles through his tears.
"Do you want to tell me more about him? Maybe it'll help me put a voice to him next time I come up to talk."
"I'd really like that." He says before telling you a story about his first love. There's a place in your heart that grows with each memory for the man who brought Orym so much joy and loved him so deeply.
You look up at the moons after Orym has fallen asleep in your arms. I hope you would have liked me. I hope I can make him happy, too.
First kiss scenarios for the Exandria Unlimited crew.
Anon: Could i please have some first kiss scenarios/headcanons with the EXU crew and the reader? Thank you!
Gender neutral reader, the reader is plus size/chubby/mid size but honestly anyone can read if they want.
Image not all related just they're all very pretty. I proof read it but I'm very tired so there could be some typos.
Dariax Zaveon:
The pub is lively with the dwarven version of ‘Come on Eileen’ and the sloosh of beer tankards clink together in drunken joy.
You sit, well slump, in a booth near the back of the pub as you small friend Dariax drunkenly sings along whilst standing on his seat.
In your tipsy slur you wonder if it would be rude to grab the dwarf down from his seat and snog his face off.
Actually, for most of the day you have been thinking about how the best way to kiss him being that you are way taller than him.
Would it be rude bending down to kiss him? Or do you get milk crates for him to stand on?
Regardless of how you just want to kiss and confess to him.
Despite your crush on the small man, you never think of it unless you want to become flustered and embarrassed but considering you’ve been drinking since the morning all logical thinking has been thrown out the window.
You and Dariax have been celebration since succeeding in your mission *cough*crime*cough* the night before.
The first sip of alcohol was to calm your nerves but the second was to dull the pain of a light stab in your arm and the rest have been to celebrate the hefty amount of gold in you deep pockets.
Unlike Dariax who drinks like baby on a bottle you steady yourself with a cup of water always next to you. An empty basket of bready lays on the table in front of you from you wolfing down the crusty bread.
Now full and slumped down, not caring your plush body is bunched up in a less that ‘pretty’ look you look up to the singing dwarf who has your heart.
“I want to kiss him.” You think as you look up at him, you chin pressed to your chest and your cup balancing on your stomach.
Dariax peers down at you, for once in your friendship him being taller than you. You may be scrunched up in a drunken mess but the is enamoured with your beauty and the stupid smile on your lips.
The dwarven man has liked likedyou for a while and even now, the two of you are blasted out of your minds, he still does. You’re a plus size person who looks so soft despite towering over him, of course the auburn beard man wants you for himself.
The half drunk man flops down next you, his tankard spilling a cocktail of spirits over the worn wooden floor of the pub. You sit up slightly so you no longer have a triple chin and an achy back, you hand catches the tankard on your tummy.
The two of you lean in about to talk.
“You’re a-“ you begin to speak but are cut off by Dariax grabbing your shirt and kissing you.
It sloppy and you faces bash together but you rake your hands into his beard, the tankards of alcohol discarded as the kiss deepens into to tongue filled kiss.
.
.
Dorian Storm:
Dorian cleans the blades from his musical instrument weapons in the dim light of the newly awaken sun.
He had just arisen with the sun and the peacefulness of the Inn’s garden is the perfect place to clean his weapons in.
He currently sits on an old stone bench in the pub garden, a tree as his back rest as he zones out into his work.
You had awoken just after him and now you chill lounging on a wooden pub chair along with your aged, knitted blanket that you snagged at a market all those years ago.
By now all that has been said between the two of you is a quiet ‘good morning’. Despite this the two of you happily sit in each other’s company.
You look over to Dorian, who is fully clothed unlike you in your sleepwear.
“Do the blades effect the sound?” you blurt out to the air genasi in pure interest.
“Pardon.” He looks up from his spot his ice like eyes staring at you in confusion as the quietness is broken.
“If the blades are a part of the instruments then there’s more to them?” you tiredness messes up your explanation so you try again, “Surely the weapons add more weight and mass to the instruments, so surly there’s a different sound to them?”
“Well-“ He’s a bit taken a back by you sudden interest of his weapons/instruments but then as his minds fades out of surprise he realises that something like this was coming.
For one thing he get’s along with you the most out of the group; out of everyone he made you his friend first. For a second thing he always sees you looking over his instruments (and unknown to Dorian you steal glances at him also).
He scoots over the end of the bench and beckons you over. You scoot the wooden pub garden chair closer to him so your legs are almost together.
Dorian begins a hyper-fixated explanation of his instruments and their workings. He points out the different components of his weapons/instruments whilst you just listen and slowly lean forward closer to him, taking in the details of the cool items.
He to leans closer into you as he explains, you knees know touching and his ombre hair dangling on your arm.
Your fingers skim over the delicate details of the lute, you focused on the woodgrain and his soft spoken words.
His words fade off though as the two of you look up from the lute, your faces too close.
He is higher up for the wooden chair you sit on; the chair is low and creaky almost like a deck chair so as you lean forward, he leans his face down your lips almost touching.
His blue nose bumps your before he leans his face sideways and the two of you fully kiss a short and sweet kiss.
You both pull back just a bit so your lips are apart by your noses are touching, a purple blush on his face and your face warm with delight.
.
.
Fearne Calloway:
The want to kiss Fearne is always there but the tangle of poison plants and the incapacitating nervousness stops you from it.
Little Mister currently runs back and forward on you shoulders weighting you down. You like the fire monkey friend but you are not used to him lingering on your shoulders.
“Mister.” You warn like a parent, “Pick a shoulder and stay there please.”
The monkey yells and decides to hug you head instead of choosing a shoulder to perch on.
“Ok…fine.” You mumble as the monkey holds his hands on your forehead.
As you struggle with the fire monkey Fearne looks over to you with loving eyes.
“Are you ok (y/n)?” she dreamily asks as she clip clops over to you, “Little Mister are you being nice?”
You turn and pause at the beauty of a woman that stands in front of you, Little Mister bops up and down, his hands grabbing at your head.
“He’s a bit grabby.” You smile, the breath leaving you lungs from looking at Fearne.
“Here-“ Fearne encourages you to hold out your arm. When you do her long finger wrap around your forearm creating a bridge for the monkey to walk across.
“-Come on Little Mister.” She coos.
Mister yells but clambers across you conjoined arms stopping in the middle were Fearne’s hands grip your arms. The black, white and orange monkey gives you a giant grin, licks of fire protruding from his dagger teeth.
He then tramples up onto Fearne’s shoulders but does not stay. He leaps off causing the woman lurch forward, her body pressed against yours her hand that once gripped your arm now in your hand.
“Your eyes are very pretty.” Is all she says, a soft smile on her lips and her fingers intertwining with yours.
Your noes sniffles and face flusters at being so close to the fauna woman.
Her other hand wonders up to cup the round of your face her thumb holding your chin as she leans into a kiss.
The kiss is soft.
It lingers and your noses touch.
It’s like a cool breeze on a hot day; barely there but a much wanted and needed thing. Even when her pink lips disconnect from yours, she still stays close.
.
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Opal:
Ted snorts as she slinks off into the kitchen leaving you and Opal be in the living room surrounded in pillows like you did when you were kids.
Opal hangs on you arms, her head on your shoulder, the feeling of her warm breath on your skin.
You know in just a moment she’ll ask to sit on you lap in a peaceful cuddle or just flop on top of you without any warning.
You’ve both done it since you were children, though Opal is almost always they one on top of you.
She was the overzealous girl who was taller than the rest and you were the much quieter chubby kid who helped her out with her multiplication homework.
She attached herself to you straight away and even now as adults she hasn’t let go despite the looming peril of her soon to be departure into the bigger world.
“I’m going to miss you and Ted.” She mopes as her long arms now sneaking around your plush middle, her nose nestling into your neck.
“You’ll have Ted in your head.” You say as you hold her.
“Yeah, well-“ she looks up at you, her normally sparkly face droopy and dull, “-I won’t have you.”
“Well, if I get good enough, I can be in your head too.” You joke despite the fact you could do that if you get good enough at magic.
See whilst Opal is going on her little adventure in the vast world you have gotten an apprenticeship with the local wizard; a jolly old woman a town over who mostly does healing and fortune telling now she’s not as mobile but she is rumoured to once be extremely powerful in her youth.
“I’d much rather have you physically with me.” She mutters into your neck as her leg is flung over your lap.
“Well, I’ll ask if there’s a teleportation spell she can teach me, huh?”
She mumbles a ‘yes’ before going full Koala bear on you and entangling her body with yours.
“Gosh, if you’re like this with me now then what are you going to be like when you go?”
“A mess.” You hear Ted yell making Opal huff and you let out a hearty laugh.
Opal somewhat untangles herself from you, leaning backwards to look at her sister in kitchen.
“I won’t be a mess I know exactly what I’m going to do!” she retorts.
“What cry?” Ted smirks knowing that she’s riling her twin sister up.
“No, ok maybe I’ll cry but I will do this!”
Whilst still situated in your lap, Opal twists around, grabs your face and lays on a bit over emotional kiss on your lips.
“About time.” Ted shouts as you melt into the kiss.
.
.
Orym of the Air Ashari:
Sitting in the forest Orym looks up to the sky, the winds blow the orange leaves off the sleepy trees.
The world around spirals into to the nook that you and him relax in.
You are lying down next to your halfling friend whilst the wind whistles and the leaves crunch as the Autumn slowly dies into winter.
Orym, being the one sitting up right, sways with the rhythm of the world around, his short brown hair tousling in the cool breeze.
Your eyes are closed, hands on your tummy, and your head slightly turned to the side. If you were to open your eyes you’d being looking up to Orym. But you don’t open your eyes. The air may be cold but the sky is clear and the sun shines down on your face and eyelids.
Orym looks down at your relaxed face the sun illuminating the rounds of your face.
“I can feel you staring.” You whisper as you creek a singular eye open, “Like what you see?”
He darts his eyes away; his hands begin to fiddle.
You open your eyes fully but you drape your hand over your forehead hoping to guard your irises from the sunbeams.
“We need to go back soon.” He murmurs as he braves looking back down at you.
“The Air Ashari can wait.” You hum back.
“People will talk if we take too long.” Orym thinks not brave enough to say it out loud, it is very obvious to all Air Ashari but you two that you love each other.
You are the person who makes the halfling feel shy, like he’s the only the person in the vast world but you two are hardly every alone despite being good friends. People are always around so when he can, he steals you away to the same small place in the forest.
Moments pass, you wiggle over still lying down, your body touching Orym’s.
“Hello.” You smile as your face snuggles into his leg, “It’s a bit cold.”
His face is dusted with pink as he looks down at you. He wants to say ‘I told you to take your cloak.’ or ‘We should go back then.’ but he just affectionately looks at you instead.
“What are you thinking of?” you ponder connecting your eyes with his. He doesn’t answer for he is too focused on mapping out each pattern in your eyes.
“…You know what I think of a lot?” you scarcely utter, “How you’re the bravest person I know.”
“What?” he rapidly blinks the focus disappearing.
You sit up a bit as he leans down more. You both seem to talk to one another through your eyes.
You both are brave so you both lean in for a sweet kiss which grows deeper as he lowers you down.
The two of you aren’t going back anytime soon.
.
.
.
At the time of writing this (not posting) only episode three is out so I can do a part two for other characters like Poska, Fy'ra Rai, maybe even Shaun... who knows ¯\_(ツ)_/¯
What do people think? It's my first scenario fic and the first time writing for EXU, so I'd love to here what every one thinks.
Kinda wanna try my hand at doing some cr2 (I'm only up to episode 55) and cr3 (all caught up) headcanons... if anyone has any requests feel free to send them my way 👉👈
If you can could you please write something with orym continuously finding himself in cute awkard situations with his crush? Some examples could include geting tied up together by some spell, only one bed, him having to borrow his crushed clothes etc.. feel free to use any of your own as well if you can think of any!!
Awww 🥰 sweet little Orym deserves some love too!
He’s still trying to process through his past with Will, and getting close to you always becomes a scene
Accidentally walked in on you? Chetney will never let him live it down
Spell incantation goes wrong? Good luck getting out of this bind for a while!
He can feel your heart beating, and his cheeks flush against you. Trying to burrow his head to hide his embarrassed expression, which you think is cute
If there happens to be “only one bed”, Orym tries to be the upstanding gentleman, but you insist it’s fine and the halfling curls up by your side.
Seeing you fall asleep is soothing to him, and he reaches out a protective hand to your side
When the party goes to see Keyleth, even she sees how much Orym has changed and how close he is to you
Pondering how close you two have gotten together, Orym starts to re-think things, hoping maybe there’s a chance with you
